The virginal maiden threw open the gnarled door.
“Witch of the Wood! Help me!”
“Speak.”
“I’m to be wed, but when I look upon him it leaves me cold.”
“No flush, no quivering quim?”
“Nothing!”
The sorceress stood, hood pulled back, robes spread wide. The girl gasped at the voluptuous, fire-maned perfection naked before her.
“Now?”
“Burning to my core!”
“I suspect you’re queer, dear.”
“No! Is there a test? A cure?”
Three times she was trialed that night and again at dawn.
“You know the truth now. Do you wish a changing spell?”
“Are you kidding me? Let’s fuck!”
