Chapter 0 - [C] A Witch's Boots

There are many types of people in this world. All sorts of bobs and bits. Wizards who turn their whole sanctuary into a holy realm, beasts who fill their gardens with pillows, kings who have harems of slightly older femboys, and many many more. So Witch Gara didn’t really think that she was weird per se. Just… unique. She liked what she liked okay?! Was there anything wrong with that?! 

Sure, she might’ve stolen the “Animate Life” spell from that golem making wizard and sure she had robbed that seemingly nice Demi-human who had called her unrefined, but really, was either of those things so wrong?! 

No, no not at all. Yet still, she knew, if anyone knew her secret they would burn her at the stake. Not for any crimes, well, not for any legal crimes, but for crimes against humanity. At least as so far as they saw it, the dang rabble, them and their absolutely terrible sense of imagination. Pitiful. Like young apes before being allowed to evolve. At least all the other witches and wizards would merely think she had a few… issues in the bedroom. 

Honestly, that was probably worse. The fires of regular mortals only tickled by this point. The humiliation by people that actually mattered was a far more painful affair. 

Witch Gara wasn’t exactly, traditionally beautiful, but she certainly had no issues in the bedroom! Just last century, she had even had a husband! Even if it was a Krodian wedding… still, it counted! And sure, she may not be traditionally attractive, with her green skin and tusks, but her body was the best sculpted masterpiece youth and health tonics could buy! Dang mortals and their aversion to “unnatural” skin colors. It wasn’t easy being green. Someone had even had the gall to call her a troll once! Unforgivable, truly unforgivable. 

Witch Gara took a deep breath, trying not to work herself up. The last visit to the nearest village had ended with some, less than pleasant memories. She had been nice enough to only turn half of them into frogs. And she had even turned them back! Truly, she was more kind than she should be. 

She shook her head and focused. None of that now, it was time for the real show to begin! She was feeling an itch in her loins and it wasn’t from some perverted fairy this time. Creepy little things. Will get into any and every hole if you let them. No, it was from looking at the source of her kink and fetish. Where something resided that would satisfy more than a few of her desires for the night. Where true beauty lay! 

Her closet!

Was it a special closet? Well, no. It didn’t have any enchanments that were specific or unique to it, no runes, no lingering magic cast on it, or any dwarven or gnome attachments. It was simply a closet. But ah! The true majesty of course lied within the closet! 

Witch Gara started chanting, preparing her ‘Animate life’ spell that she had righteously taken, and she had never regretted a moment of doing so. 

‘Ola heha, come to life one and now, come to life, ola heha, ola heha, ola heha!’ 

The words were more perfunctory. Every always thought it was about the words. If only we lived in such a simple time! An advanced Dwarven construct and a magic crystal would be all you need, so simple even a child could do it! If only that reality existed… no, the words were more of a guide for the magical flows. Remembering the exact precise way to move any sort of magic around was a ball ache and even as a witch that was more instinct focused than all that stuffy learning, she still needed some kind of focus to direct those instincts, usually. Only spells she had said 2043 times were free from that restriction, because that’s how many times it took to ingrain the magic into her brain, depending on spell, sometimes, maybe, possibly. Anyway, she was almost there! Only a few hundred more times and she could just snap her fingers! 

The magic took hold, floating around her in a visible green spectrum, before it launched into and under the closet door. Boy, making her closet door alive had been a pain that first time. Thankfully she had gotten better over time. This was the best part after all! 

The green translucent waves of magic flowed and soon, stopped, leaving the room in a sort of anxious silence. Anticipaction, tension started rising. Suddenly, there was a low banging from the other side of the closet door. 

‘bang’ 

‘bang’ 

It grew louder. Witch Gara was already reaching a hand down below her waist. 

‘Bang’ 

‘Bang’ 

With a final mighty kick, her closet door fell off its hinges. She’d put it back on later. It was always worth it for the extra bit of theater. 

Standing there in the empty door frame were boots. And only boots. 

They took a step forward. Walking towards her. Witch Gara’s masturbation speed started to increase. She didn’t know how or when she had fallen in love with the simple idea of boots themselves, maybe it was even a petty little curse or spell cast on her at some point, but she had never found anything that had pointed to that. She simply loved boots. She had a whole collection of them and had had them for a very very long time. Perhaps it was simply because of everything she owned, boots had never left her. Her house had been burned down, her lovers had left, her multiple marriages had failed or ended in travesty, more than half her friends had either perished of old age, her hand directly, or their enemies, and the less said about the rest of her long lasting clothes after the incident of 87’ the better. 

And yet, miracously, her boots, her collection of boots at that, had survived it all nearly unscathed. At some point, love of an item had turned more… sexual. 

In front of her stood one of the older pair of boots. These one’s were a bit gaudy but oh so smooth. They were dark brown, solid, made in the style of dark combat boots, but with golden lines and little tassels laced through them. Little golden tassels that swayed as the boots walked. She loved those little teasing tassels. They were a mix of practical and Gaudy. No actual soldier would wear these out on the field of battle, otherwise they’d be a target at best and ridiculed relentlessly at worst. They were purely for her. Even for her, and for her love, actually wearing these boots in public put a, pause, into her. Which made them perfect for her more unusual desires. 

Soon, the Gaudy combat boots began to dance. Not just any sort of dance. It started with a bit of experimentation, a bit of a tease, a back and forth tiptoeing and tapping fashion. Then it transitioned into a more sarcastic dance as it did the ‘square’ dance a different type of boots had gotten popular with over the last few hundred years. 

And then the time for play was over and it was time for the real show to begin. The boots twirled, swaying back and forth, in a mesmerizing fashion. Look at any recording crystal of dancers and focus purely on their feet, it’s a dazzling display of skill. Like watching a master crafter’s hands. And her boots had more than their fair share of practice. Twirling, swaying, twisting, the dance had become sensual in her mind, the slight curves of the boots making her let out a moan as she slipped a few fingers inside. 

The dances continued, sensual to sexual, sexual to teasing, teasing to haughty, more and more. Each a different learned dance, she dared say that by this point her boots could turn a novice into an expert in the art form within a few short weeks, they were just that skilled and talented. 

Eventually, the shoes practically seem to be tuckered out, as they ended with a massive flourish that made a pant escape from her. It was a beautiful, dazzling display of skill. It had left Witch Gara breathing heavy, a faint red sheen on her usually purely green skinned face. She looked at the pair of boots standing in front of her, and they stood in front of her. She smiled with a twinkle in her eyes and lowered her pants and underwear. If boots could smile, they would have, as they practically ran at her. Many living creations may never know the feeling of love, especially sexual love. These boots would never have that issue, had never had that issue. 

Witch Gara grabbed them out of midair as they leaped at her. One, she immediately moved to her crotch, while she began rubbing the other with her hand. The smooth leathery texture sent a shiver up her spine, but not stronger than the one she received from where the other boot had landed. It was currently going to town, rubbing it’s sole into her green skinned pussy. She let out a low moan as she felt her own living shoe step on her. Felt it dip itself in a little bit inside her, felt it grind itself against her. Her fetish may be odd to others, but no one could ever tell her it wasn’t well worth it. She pitied others, never knowing the feeling of a good boot and how to truly experience it. Well, she supposed in her erotic daze, perhaps a few subs out there had learned the glory of it. 

The shoe in her hand was not idle. She had been stroking it, but it was part of a pair and was rowdy in it’s own way. It slipped from her grasp and did a pirouette in the air, before landing on her chest, slightly making her lean back. Now she felt it as one boot had started to grind it’s literal heel into her, while another began ‘massaging’ her breasts as best as a boot could. 

It continued on and on, her losing herself in her own possessions. An orgasm was wrenched out of her by them and she felt her grip on them tighten. Soon, she was laying on her back, exhausted, as her boots seemed to have the same air of a man, or woman, having a smoke after a good fuck. She leaned herself up, tired but satisfied, and looked at her boots. They stood up and walked back to the closet. They did a final sexy dance, this one seeming to say “Goodbye, but I’ll see you again shortly.” and with a final flourish walked back in and out of sight, the magic in them dissipating. 

Witch Gara laid back, breathing heavy, feeling utterly satisfied. She was going to take a well deserved nap, when she heard a noise. She looked to her right and saw a young man standing there. He didn’t even seem twenty winters yet. He was frozen in shock, a bag of milk by his side. Witch Gara’s own mouth hung open, her heart seeming to skip a beat before beginning to beat like a drum while her brain remained frozen. Right, she had sent for some basic groceries a few days ago. She never left her door locked, anyone not allowed would be vaporized at best. This was the delivery boy she had sent for. He had seen her. He looked down, she did as well, he was wearing simple hiking boots. 

The world seemed to tilt but the boy was not without a survival instinct. Young, but of age, he knew his next moments would decide whether he lived or died. Quickly, he reached down, undid his boots, threw them into the room, and ran for his life. 

Witch Gara was still stuck that someone had seen her. As the boots sailed into her room, and the young man fled from her, she was struck by only a single thought. 

“Well. At least these are some nice boots.” 


