Hagged

You'd finally found it; a dilapidated, unassuming hut buried in the depths of the most tangled, unkempt stretch of woods you'd ever seen. It was almost indistinguishable from the bramble and sticks around it. Somehow, it had been harder to find than any other "lair" you'd ever sought. Even that minotaur's labyrinth hadn't taken you this long to navigate. At least a lowly hag witch would be an easier hunt than a dragon or a minotaur or a basilisk - though the pay was surprisingly fantastic. Hag witches were physically weak, slow moving, and possessed no cursed scales, human-sized claws, or spear-point horns. It was only the spells you had to worry about, and the Monster Hunter's Lodge had granted you a full set of magic-repelling armor. As you'd been taught, hag witches were mostly a threat to remote villages, where they fed upon the youth of the local populace via magical trickery, deception, and temptation. You, a seasoned hunter, would overpower such a threat easily.

You could hear motion from inside the hut from your hiding spot in the bramble outside. Clanking and shuffling, the sound of a fire being started, some watery splashes. Firelight began to pour out of the windows. While it was still just early evening, this section of the woods was unnaturally dark. The firelight would be to your advantage. You adjusted the straps of your armor, careful not to disturb the twigs around you, and slid a bolt into your hand-crossbow.

When you looked up again, you saw something moving in the yawning doorway. A small, skinny cat, black as night, with moon-yellow eyes. Staring right at you.

You held back a curse word and jumped into action. No point waiting now that you'd been spotted by that creature. No chance it wasn't the hag-witch's familiar. The moment you broke through the twigs before you, the cat hissed and screamed. You heard a surprised cry from within the hut, then the door to the hut slammed shut. This time you cursed aloud.

The door looked flimsy enough, but you weren't going to risk dislocating your shoulder. Instead, you turned course and leapt towards a small window a few feet up to the left of the door, tucking as you dove through. You made a hard landing on the top of a wide oak table, sliding across face-first and sending all manner of plants and bottles flying through the hovel. As you reached the end of the table surface, you could feel it flipping, so you rolled to the side, fell to the floor, and quickly righted yourself. The room was extremely dark, the firelight seemed weaker than it should be, the shadows longer. The walls of the hovel were lined with shelves, loaded with bottles, strange trinkets, and piles of ingredients. Small, dried critters hung on ropes from the ceilings near the walls. Near the fireplace was an overstuffed armchair with a colorful, fluffy blanket folded neatly on the back of it (surely stolen from the nearby village.) You were surprised by the smell of the hut; you had expected musty rot and foulness. Instead the whole place smelled sweetly floral. Hints of rose, honey, and lilac. As you scanned the room, you finally spotted the witch.

She was standing across the room, mouth agape and stunned at your blistering entry. She was completely naked, clearly caught by surprise; her dark green and wrinkled form utterly repellent to you. You didn't hesitate for a moment and loosed the bolt from your hand-crossbow in her direction. Only too late did you realize you had fired at a reflection in a great mirror. The bolt clattered against the surface of the mirror, glancing off into the dark. Somehow, the mirror was wholly unharmed.

You swore under your breath and turned to see that the witch was actually standing just to your left in the shadows. In her left hand she held a gnarled twig wand, which she raised above her head. Before she could point it at you, you dropped your crossbow and slid your small buckler on to your arm.

You raised your shield just as she lowered her wand. From the tip of the wand erupted a whistling missile of sparkling light, blasting towards you before you could so much as blink. It struck your shield with incredible force, kicking you backwards. It ricocheted off your buckler, then off the wall, ceiling, mirror, and finally crashed into the surface of the toppled table next to you, burning a hole the size of your head. You mentally noted the need to thank the Guild's blacksmith for saving your life after this hunt.

The witch shrieked in frustration, took a few steps back, made towards the far side of the room. You rolled to your feet quickly, scooping up your crossbow and beginning to reload it in a single movement. The witch saw you and flicked her wand at you again, this time, you couldn't get your shield up quick enough. You blocked the bolt instinctually...with your crossbow. The beautifully made weapon exploded into singed splinters of wood and chunks of metal. A sharp piece of the limb glanced across your cheek, drawing blood. You cried out in anger, rushing toward the witch and drawing the shortsword at your side.

The witch turned her back on you and ran as fast as she could away from you. You were much faster. The gap between you was closing and your weapon was ready. She looked over her shoulder and you caught a look of pure terror in her eyes. Even better, she didn't realize how close she was to her own mirror! She was barreling straight towards it without even looking!

You surged forward, ready to strike and finish this hunt once and for all. You were just inches away from reaching her back and she was going to slam into the mirror on the wall. But she didn't. When the witch's body reached the mirror, she passed into it effortlessly, disappearing and leaving only your furious reflection staring back at you. Now you were barreling toward the mirror with nothing to stop you! You tried to catch yourself, tipping your body back, but it was too late. You were going to hit the mirror.

"Stop!" a creaky, aged voice shouted out from all around you.

Every muscle in your body seized upon hearing the word, freezing you in your vulnerable, failed retreat. Your arms were out to your sides, left slightly raised, right lowered and behind, gripping your sword. Your legs were in a wide stance with your right foot turned out to slow and stabilize you. Your gaze was locked forward, looking at your own reflection which bore an unmoving expression of shock and confusion.

"Drop your weapon, intruder!" the voice croaked out again.

Before you could even think of resisting, your right hand opened and the sword clattered to the floor.

"Good!"

Something like smoke swirled in the reflection behind you and from it emerged a sickly green foot mottled with dark green spots and long, sharp toenails. It was followed by a slightly hairy calf, then a jiggling green thigh. A swollen, sagging belly over a tangled triangle of wiry black hair. Heavy, sagging green breasts shifting pendulously. Soon enough, the whole witch had stepped out of the smoke. You wanted to shudder, but your body would not move at all.

"A hunter of the Lodge come to do me in with a crossbow, eh? Ha!" the witch cackled uproriously, her whole wrinkly body quivering with the laughter, "Arrogant. Foolish."

The witch turned her twisted face towards you, looking you in your immobile eyes before walking closer. Her nose was long and crooked. Deep wrinkles perched at the corners of her lips and eyes. Her lips were oily-black around her over-wide mouth full of sharp, bestial teeth. She reached a gnarled finger out toward your breastplate and tapped it with her nail. A spark popped and fizzled where the contact was made.

"Anti-magic armor, pah! So typical. Too bad you can't armor your eyes, ears, and nose!" said the witch, laughing at you again, "you barreled in so confident that you could kill a poor! old! ugly! WEAK! woman like me, eh? I had eyes on you the moment you entered the woods, I was watching you work yourself up in the bush out there before you terrified my cat! I prepared a special perfume in advance, just for you. Do you like it?"

Suddenly, the scent of flowers and honey intensified. For just a moment, it was suffocating, you felt yourself on the verge of passing out, and then it receeded back to the subtle scent before.

"That perfume gave me full control of your body, with just my words. I could have stopped you the moment you rolled in, but...eh! I was curious to see what you were capable of. And the mirror...well the mirror is going to be the best part!" the hag-witch said, stepping into your field of view.

She reached up towards a shelf, slowly, almost dramatically. With her in front of you and her reflection in the mirror, you could see more of her than you'd ever wanted. Light-green stretchmarks snaked across her heavy stomach and breasts, which swung slightly as she reached upward. A forest of jet-black hair became visible beneath her arms. She placed the wand onto the shelf and picked up a bottle that was next to it. More deftly than you thought possible, she uncorked the bottle and poured it over her hands.

"Enjoying the view?" she cackled madly, "you'd better! you're going to be seeing a LOT more of it!"

She stepped back out of your field of view, though you could still see her in the mirror. She was inspecting your armor and your body, and after a few moments of investigation, she reached towards the straps of your breastplate. You wanted to recoil, but your body would not obey you. In seconds, your breastplate clattered to the floor. She took off your cuisses next, then your gloves.

"Anti-magic armor is so easy to circumvent with easily made potions, and it's totally useless when its removed. Oh, and look the stuff underneath is mundane mail and clothing! Hah!"

The witch muttered a string of words you didn't understand, and then there was a flash of light and a burst of heat. When the flash cleared from your eyes, you realized you were now as naked as the witch, still holding the very same pose as before. Your remaining armor and clothes had crumbled to pieces on the floor.

"I can sense your hatred and resentment right now. So palpable. Your disgust at me, too! Reading your soul is easier than a children's book. You hunters are all the same. Greedy, arrogant, violent, small-minded. What problem does your Lodge even have with an old woman like me, eh? Speak."

Suddenly, you felt your lips loosen. The rest of your face and body remained stiff, but your tongue and lips...you could speak.

"To hell with you!"

"Bah! No manners at all. Tell me, why do you want to kill me? What did I do to you?"

"You are a parasite! A twisted, ugly being of hell that feeds off the living to your own ends!"

The witch smiled and nodded.

"Oh, do I? I HELP the local town. They know me. Fear me sometimes, seek me frequently. I heal their sores and boils. Advise them on the seasons. Purge their funguses and maladies. Even ensure they can please their unhappy wives!" the witch laughed uproariously, "They give me just a drop of their youth in exchange. Fair is fair!"

"Fair!? You rob them of their lives and call that fair? You're a monster!"

"Wild words from a professional murderer!" the witch said, placing her fingers on your temple, "Oh...oh yes I see. Such an upstanding subject! Feasting on animals day in and day out and as if that weren't enough, piercing the hearts of venerable old dragons and grieving minotaurs alike. Yet this poor old woman is the monster. Bah! Couldn't imagine a more deserving subject of my mirror. Back to silence now, upstart!"

You tried to shout out at the monstrous hag, but your tongue and lips had left your control once more.

"It's time for us to begin!" the witch said, "watch closely, take in what you see!"

You had no choice but to stare into the mirror. You saw your own body before you. You were proud of it. Your dark brown skin was clear and healthy, not an ashy spot or blemish in sight. Your stomach was flat with slightly defined abs. Your breasts were round and perky, bigger than most at your level of fitness, but not so bulky as to get in the way of your hunter's calling. Your nipples were small and dark, with compact, attractive areolas. Your upper arms, thighs, calves were all toned - the product of constant training and pursuit of prey. Your forearms were strong and capable. Between your legs was your cleanly-shaven cunt, dark and smooth in the dancing firelight. Your face, the most familiar part of you, round and well-defined. A small nose and piercing eyes. Your brow and cheekbones gave you a fierce look, though all of this was twisted by your frozen expression of shock. Your lips, pink and hydrated, open slightly in a gasp of surprise.

Your observation of your body was interrupted by the feeling of a touch. The witch had laid her hand on you. It felt cold and clammy, it made you want to shiver.

"Where to start...where start..." the witch said, absently, "how...about...here!"

The witches nail poked just below your belly button. It felt sharp and hot. You winced internally.

"Yes...Yes, perfect!"

The hag-witch drew her finger across your belly, the burning and sharpness following it. As her finger moved, the skin and flesh beneath it wavered and changed in a wave-like, "v" pattern. Your skin wrinkled and swelled, changed in color. You could do nothing but watch in horror as your toned belly surged outward grotesquely. As her finger made full circle around your belly, it collapsed under its own burgeoning weight. Fold after fold of flesh poured forward until your belly was nothing but a great sagging, oily-green wrinkled paunch. It was as if your belly had aged forty years in a moment; forty years of feasting and starving, over and over, stretching and loosening the skin around your fat. But it wasn't stopping. Your belly button puckered with wrinkles, as more stomach poured forward, folding upon itself with layers of wrinkly flab.

You wanted to cry out as you saw a cleft form at the bottom of your new, sagging green gut as each side of your stomach hung lower. Despite being completely frozen in place, the weight of your new stomach groaned against the rest of your body. When it finally stopped, your aging belly was bigger even than the witch's, though identical in color. Cackling, the witch poked a few spots on your belly, making circles of darker-green discoloration appear.

The witch wasn't finished. She smoothly moved her hands up to your breasts, groping them, kneading them, cackling as she twisted at your nipples. Revulsion filled you as you felt unbidden arousal at her touch. Her touch was the first you'd felt in ages, and your body was responding in kind. As her hands squeezed your breasts, you saw the flesh balloon out between her fingers, rapidly warping to match the color of your belly. When she pulled her hands away, the flesh of your breasts followed much further than your breasts should have allowed. Her hands finally came free and your breasts plunged downwards, swollen with weight pulling on the now stretch-marked and sagging flesh of your chest. They drooped and heaved to either side of your swollen and wrinkly belly, no longer pointing forward but pointing down at the floor. You could feel them pulling, so heavy, on your chest. Your breasts had gone from perky wonders to cock-eyed sagging milkers.

The witch kept working on them, pulling them a little further down, filling them up a little more. Next, she took her fingers and stretched out your areolas into massive, dark green pancakes. As she finished stretching them, she massaged them, sending unwanted pleasure through you and causing them to form wrinkles and bumps. When she removed her fingers, your areolas were utterly ridden with oversized bumps, wholly unrecognizable from their starting state. Finally, she twisted your nipples and pulled so hard you wanted to cry out. The flesh obeyed her and elongated unnaturally. They were longer than any you'd ever seen, like the nipples of a woman who had nursed a dozen or more times.

Still utterly frozen in place, your mind screamed out for freedom, but none came. Your body simply did not obey you. You were trapped there, staring at your twisted form in the mirror.

"Oh, don't tell me your spirit is broken already, we've just barely started!" the witch said, "You're going to wish you'd never even dreamed of 'hunting monsters' by the time I'm done with you!"

The witch slowed, caressed your green and sagging belly, much more gently this time than before.

"I remember when I had to grapple with all this. I didn't have a choice in this body. And now, neither do you!"

The hag-witch ran her nail along your side and up to your armpit. It tickled dreadfully, but you couldn't move. You always kept your body shaved, even when traveling on the road, but you could see that even the slightest touch from her finger was undoing all your effort. The darkest black hair sprouted from your pit, first in the normal spots, then from new follicles entirely. With one hand, the witch massaged your arm, softening the muscular flesh into sagging green flab. With the other, she kept circling your armpit, coaxing out even more hair. In moments the once-toned flesh of your triceps sagged down into what could only be described as a true forest of armpit hair. You could feel your body temperature rising as the hair insulated your pit. You were starting to sweat.

The witch worked her hands across your elbows, forearms, and, finally, your hands. Your fingers elongated under her touch, and the flesh sagged until your hands looked as gnarled and aged as the witch herself. Your nails extended out almost claw-like at the tips of your now-elderly hands. As she turned your hands to that sickly green, warts and bumps formed all across your fingers.

The witch repeated the process on your other arm. Like a recurring nightmare you watched your arm age and sag and elongate until both fit your twisted torso.

Next, the witch moved to your legs. This time, she started with your feet. You had always been mocked for having dainty feet for a hunter, but that would never be your problem again. The witch's touch first made your nails black as night, long like claws. Then, she pulled on each toe, stretching them out unnaturally long and filling them with the same bumps that distorted your fingers. When she worked your feet, they grew in size just as the skin withered and aged. Your feet went from unusually small to unusually large. In the mirror, they gave you a clumsy appearance.

The witch ran her hands across both your calves at the same time, slow enough that you could watch them deflate and lose their tone completely. As she worked, the hair on your legs grew more and more coarse, dark black against the spreading green of your new skin. Worse even than the hair was the way she made your veins bulge and show through the skin of your calves. Against the new green tone of your calves, the blue, snaking veins were impossible to ignore.

Your thighs were next. The witch kneaded them, erasing all the visible musculature and replacing it with ripples of jiggling, loose fat. If it wasn't for your wide stance, the fat of your new thighs would have slammed into one another. As it was, the surging bulk simply hung inward. The smooth, even tone of your skin was replaced with marbling cellulite as the mass of your new body settled in. More even than your immensely heavy breasts and gut, you could feel the weight of your thighs. They were truly enormous. You would never have a thigh gap again.

"Oh! Almost forgot..." the witch said, returning her hands to the back of your knees.

She pinched sharply on the inside of the back of each of your knees. You couldn't see it very well from your position, but you could feel it. Chubby fat pads forming and hanging down behind your knees, reminding you of the weight of your thighs above.

You recoiled internally, knowing what was next. The witch's hands had come so close as she worked your thighs. Your...

"No," the witch said, responding to your thoughts, "not your little cunt yet."

Instead, the witch stood up from her crouching position. Her face drew close to yours. Her nose, long and pointy, nearly poked your cheek, but you felt her hands on your neck. Up and down her hands worked. In the mirror, all you could see was your skin turning green. But you could feel something changing on the inside.

"Go ahead and talk, 'hunter'!"

Your lips and tongue loosened again. After so much imposed silence you couldn't help but speak.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" you said, in a voice you did not recognize.

Your voice was deeper, huskier. It warbled unevenly with a gravelly inconsistency. You gasped. The witch had stolen your voice and given you the voice of...of some old woman! Yet, looking in the mirror at your body, a part of you told you that was more appropriate anyway.

"My god..." you croaked.

The witch laughed, "You tried to kill me! You really have nothing interesting to say. I've never met a hunter as dense as you. Back to silence again, for now."

The witch splayed her fingers across your face. Fingers on your temples, cheeks, jaw, and chin.

"This is going to be so special!" she said.

As she spoke, you saw your face warp, spreading out from each of her fingers in a smooth, almost hypnotic wave. Your pink lips turned dark black. Your teeth sharpened and yellowed. Your chin doubled up on itself as aged jowls formed beneath your jaw. Your mouth widened dramatically. At the corners of your mouth and eyes, piles of wrinkles formed. Then, your brow and nose started to change. Your brow jutted forward, deepening your eye-sockets and giving you a hard upper face. Deep wrinkles formed on your newly-heavy forehead.

Next, your little nose swelled and jutted forward. It grew up between your eyes and out so long that you could see the tip of it in your vision. Like a sharp branch or beak, your nose now completely distorted what you once recognized as your face.

Finally, the inside of your mouth started to feel...wrong. Like something was blocking your airway. You could still breathe, of course, but, something had changed within. A mere moment later, your tongue flopped out from between your blackened lips. It had nearly doubled in width and easily tripled in length. It almost looked like a thick, pink tentacle now lived in your mouth. You couldn't move it at all, it just hung there out of your lips grotesquely.

"Look at that beautiful nose! Oh! and that tongue! Deary, you're going to be the envy of all the other hags! That's what you are now, of course. A disgusting hag-witch, just like me, and all my sisters and friends. And *most* of my lovers too, ha! Ha ha!"

The witch started to step away, but then quickly turned.

"Oh, speaking of love...let's take care of all your pretty lovey bits."

Fear completely overwhelmed your mind. You could barely take in your new form, but the idea of losing your most precious, protected part to this horrible dark magic was almost too much to bear.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!" the witch said, responding to your thoughts, "You're still going to have lots of fun, so long as you can get over your terrible attitude!"

The witch made a vulgar gesture towards her own hairy snatch, placing her gnarled hand over it in a "V." Then, after letting loose a terrible laugh, she crouched down again and put her fingers right on the lips of your pussy. The cold feeling made you recoil, but the touch...the touch somehow aroused you. Rage and hatred roiled through you in defiance. None of it mattered, though, because you couldn't move anyway.

"Let's move you a little closer, hm? Oh, and look down!" the witch said, pushing on your backside.

Effortlessly, she moved your body within inches of the mirror, at which point your eyes obeyed her words and darted down so you could see the reflection of your privates in clear view.

You felt a sharp sting as the magic flowed from her fingers. Waves of heat and pinpricks spreading up from your subdued outer lips. She spread your lips with her fingers and the moment she did, something flopped out from between your outer lips. You knew immediately that she had changed your inner lips. Gone were the small, smooth shapely things you'd known your whole life. In their place were dark green flaps of deeply wrinkled skin. When she stopped spreading you, the inner lips still hung out a full inch and a half outside. A wrinkled bloom of overflowing, sensitive flesh. She took her fingers off your outer lips entirely so you could see them wrinkle, too. In mere moments, you watched your pussy warp into a true loose hag cunt.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Surely it had to be done, and yet, the heat and the pinpricks were still going. It was then that you saw your outer lips pushed aside by a swollen, knobbly green *thing*. Your clit. A dark, almost purple green, it was unrecognizable to you. Monstrous. Your wrinkled inner lips had formed a folded hood for your new engorged clit, which jutted clean out of your green outer lips. The clit of a twisted hag.

The hag's breath dancing across your exposed clit was arousing you. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to strike out violently. You wanted her to wrap her blackened lips around your nasty hag cunt. NO!

The witch cackled once more, "I'm not so desperate to fuck someone who was just trying to kill me. No, you'll have to take care of yourself! But not before I'm done with you!"

The witch suddenly turned you around, away from the mirror. Then, she pushed your torso down, bending you forward, and pulled your head down so you were looking between your legs into the mirror.

"Get used to the view, this is your cunt and ass now, deary!"

With that, the witch spanked your ass extremely hard. Her strength truly shocked you for how frail and old she looked. Her hand left a green hand-print in the skin of your ass-cheek, which began to spread outward. You could look nowhere else except directly at your spread cheeks and wholly exposed loose witch pussy. Your dangling, wrinkled inner lips were drooling lubrication, against all your will, as the last unchanged part of your body disappeared before your eyes. Your ass-cheeks swelled up so much you were afraid you'd tip over and then, like a sigh, sagged down onto your huge thighs. At every crease of your body, your fat and wrinkles bunched up. Between your pussy and your thighs, your cheeks and your thighs were *delightfully* (no! disgustingly!) piled folds and wrinkles. Soft, green, and bumpy.

As you watched the wave of change reach towards your asshole, unbidden thoughts came to your mind. How nice it must feel to rub your lumpy clit against another hag-witch's soft and bumpy flesh...

You were startled from the thought by a painful pinch on your asshole.

"Oh deary, something you should know about being one of us. We look like humans, but our anatomy is very different. Our assholes are *made* for pleasure."

The flesh of your asshole darkened before your eyes, then puckered intensely. It began to swell, growing wider, longer, and more puckered by the second.

"We have many times more nerves there. Its bigger, softer. and all of us have a spot, deep inside, that feels like nothing else. It's just positively made for *taking.* If you didn't like anal before, you won't be able to resist it now!"

Thoughts flooded your mind of fingers, rods, cocks, even hands pushing into your soft, quivering, green hole.

"We don't have to eat, you see. But we need other things. Like orgasms. We need to cum. Multiple times a day like humans eat multiple times a day. You truly wont be able to resist it. Oh, and we need to borrow youth, or we'll turn to dust. So you'd best adjust quickly."

The witch stood up next to you and sighed.

"You're free to move, I suppose."

The sensation of regaining control of your body came crashing down on you and you lost your balance. The hag-witch caught you by the arm before you fell to the ground.

"Oh goodness, don't break your hip on your first night!"

You righted yourself and ripped your arm from her hand. You hobbled over in front of the mirror, unable to fully accept that the body you now inhabited was the very one moving in the mirror.

You were green and aged, hunched over with massive sagging swingers and a wrinkled gut. Enormous thighs and oversized hands and feet. Your face bore almost no semblance of your own. Except for your eyes and your hair, those were still the same, somehow. When you opened your mouth, your massive tongue flopped out from between your jet-black lips. The sight filled your mind with images of depraved perversion...like shoving your fat tongue up your former captor's holes...

The hag witch laughed softly next to you.

"Told you!" she said, "Anyway, your hunting days are well and truly over. Since you've crashed and ruined my home, I'm giving it to you to fix up. I'll miss the chair and all the supplies I've built up, but I have another hut on the other side of the globe to go to. There's a bookshelf in the corner full of basic potion recipes, you'll need those if you don't want to be hunted by people like yourself all the time. As for everything else, well...just follow your instinct, ha!"

The old witch turned and stepped toward the mirror on the wall.

"No, wait!" you rasped out at the old green witch.

She looked back at you.

"No, I won't. I was merciful enough on you. Unlike your kind, we witches don't kill everything that scares us just because it scares us. You're going to have to learn that now. On your own!"

She smiled a crooked smile, and stepped into the mirror, disappearing completely.

Bewildered, aching, and scared, you looked around the room you'd trashed. The witch was right, there was no going back. You would *have* to hide here, at least until you figured out how to undo this curse.

"There is no undoing it!" the witch's voice rang out from all around you, "This is what you *are* now. Look within, you'll understand. I'm done helping you now!"

Was she right about that too? Were you truly a *hag-witch*? Your mind screamed back at you with a resounding yes. An affirmation so strong that it made your cunt quiver. You felt a heavy heat in your guts. You looked in the mirror again at your twisted, grotesque, *arousing* form. Your gnarled, oversized hand crept towards your hairy crotch almost involuntarily. You caught yourself, snapped your hand away, and shook your head to clear your thoughts.

Tidying the hut would certainly keep your mind occupied while you worked through this. You walked slowly over to the upturned table, struggling to adjust to your new body. Everything was so much heavier. Everything moved, swinging or jiggling, whenever you stepped or reached. You weren't used to *feeling* your own body this much. Or being so turned on by it.

Every step, your fat thighs squished against each other, making your oversized cunt-lips rub into one another. The bumps and wrinkles, they...

You shook your head again and put the table upright after a little struggle. Your strength wasn't gone, but all your leverage was different. You were actually surprised by how strong you felt. You didn't *feel* old at all, even if you looked old and saggy. Maybe hag-witches (like yourself) just looked that way but weren't actually *old*. Why did they (you) have to "borrow" youth then?

Your stomach groaned at the thought. Loudly. An ache spread across it, making you clutch at it. It was the first time you felt your sagging paunch with your own hands. It felt...soft, pliable, comforting even in a strange way. A part of you was still disgusted but...another groan from your oversized stomach. A thought, a desire, came unbidden in your mind. You remembered a woman you knew from the guild, she was 30, the prime of her life and the top of her career. A skilled hunter, stunningly beautiful. Then, you imagined her naked. You imagined her naked and sprawled beneath you, hypnotized as you crouched over her. You imagined plunging your tongue deep into her cunt and putting your lips to her cunt lips. You imagined thrusting your tongue deep within her, working her clit with your lips, and then, letting her energies pass into you through your tongue and your lips.

You saw her pubic hair fade in color, from yellow-blonde to faded brown. You saw her skin loosen ever so slightly. You saw her breasts sag, just a little, and her lips lose their plumpness. You were borrowing her youth, and your aches were stopping. You could stop, you were satiated...but what if you took more...

You let the fantasy unfold, followed your instinct to its unfettered end. You took more of her energy, more of her youth. She cried out even through the hypnotic spell you had put her under. Her belly loosened and softened, her tits sagged to the side, her hair turned gray and wrinkles formed all across her body. Her skin formed spots. You felt glorious fullness, unlike any feast you had ever tasted. You sucked it in as you pleasured her body and when you finally pulled your lips away and your tongue out, the 30 year old hunter you knew was gone. Her new body couldn't be less than 60. Her face wore a dulled expression of pleasure, with a hint of fear. She was beautiful, but undeniably dramatically aged.

Your body hadn't changed a bit, except that you were no longer hungry.

Shaking yourself from your fantasy, you felt excitement for the first time since this dreadful hunt began. You'd figured something out. You weren't going to die. Surely this deserved some kind of celebration. But, how to celebrate? You had no "food." You looked at the large, overstuffed chair over by the fire and noticed something you hadn't seen before. A small table beside it with a number of glass shapes neatly organized on the surface. You felt yourself getting wet again.

Without even thinking, you rushed over to the chair and sat down. It was perfectly sized for your new body. Supported all your weight. It naturally invited spreading your legs...

Your breath was short and your heart was pounding. Desire unlike any you had ever felt formed a burning pit in your loins. This was your house, after all, and no one was here to see you. You had every right to make the most of the night, right?

You snatched up a phallic glass from the side table and stared at it in your long, green hands. Before your better judgement could stop you, you spread your fat, sprawling thighs, savored their weight as they hung down over the edge of the chair, and lowered the glass to your pussy. Before you could thrust it in, though, something, some *instinct* told you to go lower. So you did. You lowered the phallic rod down to the opening of your dark-green wrinkled asshole. You slowly touched the cold glass to the soft puckered folds. You couldn't help but moan raspily from just the touch.

You leaned back in the chair and spread your legs further, as you did your pussy's wetness dribbled out from your layered green folds down onto the tip of the glass cock, inviting you to push it in. Breathing heavily, you applied just a little pressure, expecting it to be tight. But it wasn't. Your greedy asshole swallowed the tip of the glass cock easily, rocking you with pleasure.

You moaned out perversely, immediately obliging your asshole further and reaching your other hand down to your folds. You immediately found your overgrown clit was engorged and hard. You rubbed your fingers across it, feeling the creased folds of the hood, the grossly expanded bumps all over it. Pleasure overwhelmed your mind.

You shoved the cock in deeper, then retracted, then thrust in. You let yourself rub that hag clit back and forth as you thrust. You moaned. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care if it was wrong or whether you'd failed or not. You just. Needed. to Cum.

With your right hand you thrust the glass dildo in and out of your loose hole while your left flicked across your clit. You started tugging on your loose inner lips, sending surges of sweet pleasure through your entire body. Your thrusting grew more intense. You bucked your hips to the thrusts, feeling your heaving, saggy breasts slap against your belly and slide to the sides of your chest. Your nipples naturally brushed against your arms as you worked on your cunt, sending you reeling in ecstasy. As you gasped and moaned, fluttering your fingers across your erect clit and plunging into your asshole, your eye caught sight of the mirror just across the room.

You could see yourself in it. A fat, sagging, wrinkled, bumpy green hag-witch with her fat thighs spread wide and her mouth gasping in perverse sexual pleasure. You saw yourself with your fingers plunged into the soaked, loose folds of your new cunt, and while you looked yourself in your eyes, you tugged on your inner labia and cackled, setting your drooping tits jiggling against the soft, wrinkled skin of your arms once again. And then, you came.

Your body shook and jiggled violently. You grasped at your oversized, swollen clit. You thrust your hips deep onto the glass toy and you screamed out unrepentantly. Cunt juice poured down over your hands and onto the floor of your hut. You couldn't stop moaning with each wave of bliss that surged across your twisted and sagging body. You loved it. You needed it. It was everything. Nothing else mattered but teasing out every drop of pleasure from your hanging nipples and wrinkly cunt and puckered asshole. The pleasure kept coming and coming. Waves and waves. Better than any orgasm you'd ever had before.

You finally lifted your hand from your pussy as the waves slowly lessened in intensity. You moved your hand across your face, feeling the wrinkles, the new bone structure, your massive nose. You were reveling in the afterglow, and it made feeling even your abominable new body enjoyable. Your hand slid down to your chest, across the stretch-marked and flattened tops of your breasts to their heavy and pendulous bottom. You reached under your other arm, felt the wiry dense hair that now grew there. Somehow, it felt good on your fingers. Somehow, it aroused you to know you could grow so much hair. You grabbed at your belly, so weighty even with all the loose skin. You felt its bulk and its softness. You felt the tractless width of your thighs, spread across the cushions of the chair.

You sighed as the waves of pleasure faded into blissful exhaustion. And it was then that you knew for sure you could never go back, even if it were possible. That you were a hag-witch now and forever. That the hunter girl you'd been when you arrived was no more. You would spend the rest of your life pleasuring this green, sagging, wrinkled form, feeding on stolen years and orgasms.