Chapter 5: Witches' Sabbath
The ring felt like a shard of living ice against Lisa’s skin, its cold fire seeping deep into her bones. The world had narrowed to a single, throbbing point of need. Mark, his own cock still slick from her mouth, was a blur, a distant satellite to the burning sun of her desire. Her gaze, feral and unblinking, was locked on Delores.
Delores stood by the bed, her robe hanging open, the thick, unnatural cock that had just been inside Lisa standing proud and glistening. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. She saw the change, the complete surrender in Lisa’s eyes.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Delores murmured, her voice a low thrum that vibrated in Lisa’s core. “The hunger. It’s all you are now.”
Lisa didn’t answer with words. She launched herself from the bed, a creature of pure instinct, her hands grabbing the silk of Delores’s robe and tearing it from her shoulders. Her mouth found Delores’s, not in a kiss of tenderness, but in a savage, biting clash of teeth and tongue. She could taste herself on the older woman’s lips, the musky, spent flavor only fueling her frenzy.
Her fingers, clumsy with need, plunged between Delores’s thighs, not to the place she was wet and open, but lower, to the base of that magically wrought cock. She felt the hot, pulsing skin, the thick veins throbbing under her touch.
“I wish,” Lisa gasped, breaking the brutal kiss, her words hot against Delores’s neck, “that this… this part of you… stays like this. Always hard. Always ready for me.”
The ring flared, a burst of searing gold light. Delores threw her head back with a sharp cry, her body arching as the magic cemented her new reality. The cock between her legs seemed to grow even harder, a permanent, demanding weight.
“And me,” Lisa panted, her own hands frantically stroking her stomach, her thighs, her cunt which was already dripping, a constant, slick leak of desperate arousal. “I wish I’m always this wet. Always empty and needing to be filled.”
Another pulse from the ring. A fresh, overwhelming gush of heat flooded Lisa’s core, soaking her inner thighs. The sensation was unbearable, a constant, maddening itch that only one thing could scratch.
“Now,” Lisa growled, her civility utterly stripped away. She turned Delores, pushing her roughly against the edge of the dresser. The wood groaned in protest. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me right now.”
She bent over, gripping the dresser’s edge, presenting herself. The air hit her wet, exposed flesh, a cool taunt to the fire within. Delores, her breath coming in ragged pulls, moved behind her. There was no finesse, no slow preparation. She guided the head of her cock to Lisa’s dripping entrance and drove forward in one single, brutal thrust.
Lisa screamed, a raw, shattered sound of pure relief. The feeling of being stretched, filled, split open was the only thing that made sense in the world. Her mind went white, blissfully blank.
“Yes! Oh, god, yes! Harder!” she begged, her voice cracking.
Delores obliged, her hands gripping Lisa’s hips hard enough to bruise. She set a punishing rhythm, each slam of her hips driving the dresser into the wall with a series of dull, rhythmic thuds. The sounds of their bodies meeting were wet and meaty, a filthy, relentless percussion.
“You like that, you desperate whore?” Delores grunted, her own control fraying under the ring’s enforced, permanent arousal. “You like being split open on my cock?”
“Yes! I’m your whore! Your perfect, wet whore!” Lisa babbled, the words torn from her, meaningless and true. She was coming already, her body convulsing around the invading length in ragged, uncontrollable waves. But the orgasm didn’t bring relief. It only stoked the fire higher. The magic ensured it. The need was instantaneous, insatiable.
“Don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop!” she shrieked, pushing back against Delores, meeting every thrust with a violent jerk of her own hips.
Mark watched from the bed, forgotten. He saw his wife, the schoolteacher who fretted over lesson plans and grocery lists, transformed into a mindless, begging animal, her body used as a vessel for a pleasure that was also a torment. He was hard again, disgust and a dark, coiling excitement warring within him. This was the adventure he’d secretly wanted, and it was a monster devouring everything in its path.
Delores’s thrusts became erratic, a frantic, pounding chase for her own release. With a final, guttural roar, she slammed deep and held, her body rigid. Lisa felt the hot, impossible rush of Delores’s climax filling her, a phantom ejaculation from a phantom organ. It triggered another screaming orgasm in Lisa, her legs buckling, her body held up only by Delores’s grip and the dresser.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Then, the relentless, magical hunger reasserted itself in Lisa. The feeling of being full was already fading, the desperate, empty ache returning with a vengeance.
She pulled away, stumbling, turning to face Delores. The older woman’s cock was still rigid, as the wish demanded. Lisa’s own cunt was still dripping, as her own wish demanded. An endless, hellish cycle.
A new, wicked idea sparked in Lisa’s glazed eyes. She looked at the ring on her finger, then at Delores’s mouth.
“I wish,” Lisa whispered, her voice hoarse, “that your mouth could fuck me, too. That your tongue could fill me up the same way.”
The ring glowed. Delores’s eyes widened in shock, then glazed over with the same compulsive need. She dropped to her knees before Lisa, her hands spreading Lisa’s thighs. Her tongue, now unnaturally long and thick, snaked out, plunging deep into Lisa’s quivering, oversensitive cunt with a single, penetrating thrust.
Lisa screamed again, her head falling back, her hands tangling in Delores’s red hair as the new violation sent fresh, shocking jolts of pleasure through her shattered nerves. The house echoed with the wet, slapping sounds of this new, grotesque act.
Mark finally moved, sliding off the bed and backing toward the door. The scene was too much, a beautiful, horrific car crash he could no longer watch. He needed air. He needed to think.
As he reached the hallway, he heard Lisa’s voice, ragged and commandeering between gasped moans.
As he reached the hallway, he heard Lisa’s voice, ragged and commandeering between gasped moans. "Mark, get back in here right now," she demanded, her tone stripping away any pretense of request. The raw authority in her words pulled him like a physical force, his feet turning against his will.
He stepped back into the doorway, the scene hitting him like a wave of heat. Delores was still on her knees, her transformed tongue buried deep inside Lisa, who was shuddering against the dresser. Lisa’s eyes, glazed and wild, locked onto his, burning with an insatiable hunger that made his stomach clench.
"Your turn," she panted, pushing Delores’s head away with a rough shove. "I need your cock in my mouth, Mark. I want to feel you fucking my throat until I choke." Her words were crude, direct, a far cry from the reserved woman he married, and they sent a jolt of electric arousal straight to his groin.
He was hard in an instant, his earlier disgust swallowed by a dark, compelling thrill. This was the unleashed desire he’d secretly fantasized about, now manifest in his wife’s filthy demands. He moved toward her, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Lisa dropped to her knees on the carpet, her hands reaching for his belt with frantic urgency. She fumbled with the buckle, her fingers trembling, then yanked his pants and boxers down in one violent motion. His cock sprang free, already slick with pre-cum, and she didn’t hesitate.
She took him into her mouth without preamble, her lips stretching wide around his girth. There was no gentle teasing, no slow build-up; just a deep, desperate swallow that made him gasp. Her throat convulsed around the head, hot and tight, and she forced herself deeper, gagging slightly.
"Fuck yes, just like that," Mark groaned, his hands tangling in her hair almost reflexively. He watched, mesmerized, as her head bobbed, her technique unnaturally expert, a direct result of Delores’s earlier manipulation. Saliva dripped down her chin, mixing with the remnants of their earlier activities.
Delores watched from the side, her own magically hardened cock still erect, a smirk playing on her lips. "She’s all yours now, Mark," she murmured, her voice husky. "Your perfect little cocksucker."
Lisa’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as she increased her pace, taking him deeper with each thrust. She used her tongue in ways she never had before, swirling and pressing against the sensitive underside of his shaft. The sounds were wet and obscene, a rhythmic slobbering that filled the room.
"Harder, Mark," she managed to grunt around his length, her words muffled. "I want to feel it in my stomach." Her hands gripped his thighs, nails digging in, urging him on.
He obeyed, his hips pumping faster, driving his cock into the tight, welcoming heat of her throat. He was losing control, the sensation overwhelming, each thrust hitting the back of her mouth with a soft, fleshy impact. She gagged again, tears welling in her eyes, but she didn’t pull away; she pushed forward, taking him deeper.
"That’s it, you filthy slut," he growled, his own language coarsening under the intensity. "Take it all." He could feel the base of his cock pressing against her lips, her nose buried in his pubic hair, and the sight undid him.
Her throat muscles clenched and fluttered around him, milking him toward an inevitable climax. The room spun, the air thick with the smells of sex and sweat, and he came with a raw, guttural shout, pumping his release deep into her swallowing throat.
She drank him down greedily, not missing a drop, her body shuddering with a secondary orgasm from the sheer violation. When he finally pulled out, she collapsed forward, coughing and gasping, strings of cum and saliva connecting her lips to his softening cock. But the ring on her finger still glowed, and her eyes, when they met his, were already hungry again.