My Little Dog

A prophetic witch who grew up in the mountains found an injured little black puppy.

She usually wore a stern expression, didn’t like talking, and was afraid of sunlight and heat. A shut-in who avoided the world, she had almost no practical skills and could barely keep herself alive.

But the puppy could talk, and used his mouth to hold a cauldron spoon and do the stirring she hated most. He even helped fold her blankets and fanned her with his fluffy tail to cool her down...

The witch kept the puppy.

The witch ran out of money.

She dug a crystal ball out of storage and decided to set up shop in town, offering a witch-exclusive business of scamming (prophesying) and swindling (the future) people for a hundred gold coins a reading.

Business went pretty well.

Running a shop inevitably meant offending competitors, or people who secretly didn’t want her telling the truth. They couldn’t beat the witch, so one day, while she was setting up her stall, they kidnapped the puppy.

The witch tossed the threatening letter aside and had no intention of rescuing him.

But the piles of dirty clothes and dishes at home kept growing...

With a stern look, the witch hefted her enormous crystal ball and smashed her way into another wizard’s lair, then hauled the dusty little puppy back home.

The house was tidy again.

A few days later, the puppy went missing again.

This time, he’d been starved until he was skin and bones.

The witch hefted her crystal ball and dragged him home again, then tossed him straight into the kitchen to wash the dishes and scrub the plates.

After this had happened several times, the witch lost patience.

She hated all troublesome things.

The witch decided to give the puppy one free reading to see just how much more trouble the little brat was going to cause her.

Pink bubbles and light shimmered inside the crystal ball.

It was a sign of love.

Witch: “...?”

She rose onto her tiptoes and leaned her head into the crystal ball.

She saw herself pinned against the pillow in a doghouse, her witch’s robes torn to shreds on the floor. Behind her was her puppy, gripping her waist and thrusting again and again.

The dog leash that had once hung around his neck was now tied around both her wrists. Its links clinked and rattled without pause.

Oh, right. The witch’s puppy was actually a huge, dark-skinned young man, two meters tall in human form and powerfully built.

His bright golden eyes were at odds with his dark appearance.

When pleasure peaked, his gaze glittered like a gemstone, bright and dangerous. He licked the witch clean, thoroughly, over and over.

Theme: Don’t casually pick up wildflowers by the roadside.