Bewitched and Filled: Witchcraft, BDSM, and Pregnancy

By Jessica Cockburn

In this steamy and provocative story, follow the journey of a man who falls in love with a powerful witch and dominatrix. From discovering her magical abilities to exploring their BDSM relationship, they push boundaries and test the limits of trust. But when their roles are reversed, secrets are revealed, and they must navigate the consequences of their desires. Can their love withstand the challenges of their unconventional relationship?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Cockburn
• Release date: Sep 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215170984

Book preview

Bewitched and Filled

Witchcraft, BDSM, and Pregnancy

Copyright 2023 Jessica Cockburn

Published by Jessica Cockburn at Smashwords.com

Smashwords.com Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

About the Author

Connect with Jessica Cockburn

Prologue

Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

My wife is no ordinary woman - she's a genuine witch. I know, I know, you're probably thinking that every guy has called his partner a witch at some point, usually after a heated argument. But with my wife, it's not just a figure of speech, it's the cold, hard truth. She's a card-carrying, spell-casting, shape-shifting witch. And to top it all off, she's drop-dead gorgeous. I like to call her my Enchantress.

Eleonore is a statuesque beauty, standing almost six feet tall. Her hair, a shimmering silver-blond, cascades down her back in wild, untamed waves. Her eyes, hazel and catlike, change color like a mood ring from the '70s. When she's happy or excited, they glisten emerald green. In moments of sadness, they darken to a murky brown. But when she's angry? They turn pitch black, like a starless country night. I assure you, she is the most breathtaking woman on this planet. As for what she sees in a guy like me, I'm not one to question.

Her personality is a whirlwind, unpredictable and brimming with spontaneity. The things she can do defy all explanation. She's used to getting her way, and then some. Assertive would be an understatement; dominance comes closer. When she wants something done her way, you can bet she'll have it. And if crossing her means spending the night in the metaphorical doghouse, well, let's just say it's not a risk I'm willing to take too often.

Now, please don't misunderstand me. She's not the wicked witch of the west. On the contrary, our house is a favorite among the neighborhood kids, and she's always ready to join in a game or bake some gingerbread cookies. The gingerbread stereotype, of course, being one of her private little jokes.

Living with her is an experience like no other. However, there are times when our ideas of fun don't quite align. I first discovered her witchy abilities when we were still in the early stages of dating. It had been five weeks of regular meetings, yet I hadn't made a move to get intimate. Honestly, I couldn't believe someone like her actually wanted me. Standing at a mere two inches shorter than her, I'm not ugly, but I'm certainly no movie star. Socially, I'm more of a reclusive bookworm, engrossed in my engineering graduate school work. She, on the other hand, is a successful rising star in a large advertising agency in the same city.

Our first encounter was quite unique. Rather than asking me out, she simply declared that we would be going on a date. According to her, she had waited long enough, and it was time to kickstart our courtship because we were destined to be married. She was less than pleased with my hesitance. Stammering incomprehensibly, I managed to take her to a local diner for coffee, and from that moment, I was completely and hopelessly in love.

Even after five weeks of what I can only describe as old-fashioned courtship, I couldn't shake the feeling of awe whenever I gazed at Elle. I kept waiting for her to realize she could do better and leave me. It was foolish, really. And in my foolishness, I ended up going out with a fellow student who had earned quite the reputation for her promiscuity.

That night turned into a complete disaster from the very beginning. The show was terrible, the food was worse, and when we ended up at her place, well... let's just say it was a night I regretted. Nothing, absolutely nothing, managed to arouse even the slightest response from me. Not even the most seductive striptease, the most skilled hand job, or any other intimate act. She eventually laughed me out of her apartment, mocking my performance and remarking that it's no wonder I sought satisfaction elsewhere if that's all I had to offer. I left feeling like a eunuch, burdened with overwhelming guilt for attempting to be unfaithful.

I was wallowing in misery. Knowing I had to come clean, I made my way straight to Elle's place. Since it was Friday, I thought it best to face the music and confess. I was certain our relationship was doomed. She would have every reason to end it, and I didn't want to prolong the suffering. And so, without further delay, I went to her door.

As she opened the door, I prepared to speak but was cut off by her hand swiftly slamming my mouth shut. You sneaky little dog, she screamed. Couldn't perform, could you? Well, you won't, not anymore unless I allow it, doggie.

In a sudden rush, it felt like Elle was growing larger, and the room began to spin. Struggling to maintain balance, I reached out with my hands, only to find they had transformed