The LIAR and the WITCH Bk. 01-03

"Would you try to be quiet so she wouldn't know we were having sex on the other side of the door?"

She shook her head and whined.

"You want her to know what we're doing? Why? Do you think she would be turned on by us fucking? Do you think she'd slip a hand inside her tiny swimsuit bottoms and start playing with herself while she listened?"

Donna was actually panting loudly now. Gasping in staccato bursts of breath.

"But if we were quiet, how would she know we were fucking like this?"

"Unnnnnnnnnggggggghhhhhh," groaned Donna. She was leaning back against me now, the head of her cock just peeking up over the top of the couch cushion, being ground into it with each of my thrusts.

"Would you like to tell her what we're doing?"

"Yes," she replied, the word delivered like a bark.

"Well Donna, she's right on the other side of the door. Why don't you tell her?"

Donna's pussy clenched my cock, and I could feel a rush of liquid splash out of her and run down my leg.

"Gah Gah Gah Gah," she said.

"She didn't understand you. What would you say?"

"Melanie. Guh ... I'm being fucked ... here on the couch ... ungh ... can't ... come ... to door." There was more clenching.

"That's very good Donna," I said. "But I don't think she heard you." I was amazed at how calm I was. I was fucking Donna with everything I had, yet I was nowhere near cumming yet, and I still had my wits about me even though the scent of her pre-cum had long since permeated my brain.

Donna babbled something louder, but still incoherent.

"She can't understand you," I demanded. "Say it louder!"

"MELANIE!" screamed my wife as her cunt squeezed hard on my cock indicating that her orgasm was imminent. "MELANIE! I'M BEING FUCKED ... ON THE COUCH ... BEHIND THE DOOR (gasp). WATCH US ... THRU ... THE WINDOW."

With that, my wife exploded in orgasm. She thrust her crotch forward in the direction of the window, and unloaded rope after rope of thick white cum. The orgasm was so forceful that her spunk actually dashed against the glass, leaving large splatter marks. That was enough to put me over the edge as well, and I emptied my own cum into her, calling out loudly as well as I did it.

Donna collapsed forward onto the couch, burying her head in the cushions in the process. As I pulled out of her with a wet squelching sound, I could hear her muttering.

"Oh God. What's happening to me?"

She looked up at me as if she were expecting an answer. In her facial expression, I saw regret but no trace of the swaggering male personality from earlier. I felt bad for what I'd just done, and rubbed her back consolingly. I had pushed her very close to the edge, and got her to verbally admit to being turned on by a young woman watching us while we fucked. This was taboo territory for the old Donna, and rubbing her face in it like this had resulted in exactly the reaction I'd hoped for. Donna was feeling shame for her actions and that shame would help to suppress her more dominant side.

I didn't like manipulating her like this, but, well, it was better than the beast-related alternative.

DAY 16

SUNDAY

I've been thinking about things, and I've come up with a good name for my wife's new dominant side, the side that Donna calls "the Beast". Although I'd never call her this to her face, I'm calling this new aggressive personality "DickDonna".

DickDonna used to only come out when my wife was really aroused, but I'm seeing her a lot more often of late, and it's got me concerned. I still don't like the effects of the pre-cum on me, and I've managed to stay on top of it, at least for now, by taking charge of Donna's pleasure so DickDonna can't assert herself.

Yesterday for instance, my wife's feelings of shame for being so turned on by the thought of a teenaged girl masturbating while listening to us having sex, had dissipated by mid-afternoon, a LOT sooner than I had expected. I tried to keep on top of it last night by taking Donna out after dark and bending her over a picnic table in a deserted roadside rest area on the outskirts of town. The picnic area was up on a bluff that looked down on a busy highway. It was dark enough so that nobody could see us (I think), but the whole scenario got Donna's juices running even more than usual.

Afterwards, we returned home, pulled up some romantic movie on Netflix, and actually cuddled on the loveseat. This was a surprise to me, especially considering that this was the same loveseat where my wife had recently caught me cheating on her. I mean, I know that Donna is still pretty angry with me, although it's been somewhat muted by our agreement that I help her out. I'm useful to her, at least for now, although I have no idea what to expect about two weeks' time when the month is up.

DAY 17

MONDAY

Well, my worst fears came true, and I'm in trouble and am basically on the run now.

I can't handle the pressure at home anymore with DickDonna so close to taking over my wife completely. It got WAY too close this morning, and I didn't have any other choice except to leave.

Let me back up and explain.

This morning, I was awoken by the decidedly uncomfortable feeling of my wife furiously humping me from behind. Mostly she was rubbing her huge cock against my ass, but every once in a while, she poked me in the balls with it as she tried to bury it somewhere else. To make matters worse, I was also very wet, being covered in more tacky pre-cum than I'd ever seen Donna produce. I could feel the back of my boxers and my shirt sticking uncomfortably to my body.

Even as I roused, I could sense the smell of her pre-cum hitting me, and had actually begun to push my ass up against her thrusting cock until I came to my senses and stopped. It took some effort too. I was groggy, partly because of the fact that I was just waking up, and partly because the all-too-familiar sluggish, docile arousal was setting in. I SOOOOO much wanted to give in to it, and actually shivered at the thought of doing just that before I was finally able to shake my head enough to clear it—at least a little.

Donna was still asleep, muttering something incomprehensible as she jack-hammered away on my backside so, as gently as I could, I extricated myself from the position, pushing her over onto her back as I did so.

She protested with a disappointed mewl, but appeared to remain asleep.

Damn. What had I been thinking last night?

I had let her watch that Ryan Gosling movie, something that always got worked up. I should have recognized that last night's final fuck-session hadn't been enough to satisfy her. We had intercourse three times yesterday, once in the morning, again just after supper in the rest area beside the highway, and finally just before we went to bed. I was spent and my dick was actually sore. I knew that we'd have to have sex again this morning, I just didn't expect that Donna would have such a head start. Although this would mean that it would be easier to get her off, it was just harder to take charge when her lust was already so clearly in control.

Unfortunately, with my dick so worn out, the only way to get her off again would be with my hands, and I'd been doing so well of late avoiding just that. The only problem was, I was keyed up and horny now. The pre-cum had me hard and ready to serve, only Donna wasn't conscious enough to be issuing any commands. I was still lucid enough to realize that I had to find a way to take control, but I didn't know how to do that yet.

Donna was still murmuring as she squirmed around so salaciously on the bed, and I was actually able to make out words now. She appeared to be dreaming, living out some kind of deranged erotic fantasy.

I was still wondering what to do, when I heard DickDonna's voice, strong and clear. "Oh yeah Randy... That's right my slave. Suck it ... Yesssssss. Just like that..."

What the hell?

Damn.

If Donna woke up right now with DickDonna in control, then the moderation we'd managed over the last week was lost. I'd have no choice but to put her big, fat cock in my mouth and suck on it. I looked at that cock now. Donna had once asked me if it was beautiful, and I had said that it was. Had that been me talking? My subconscious? That same cock was just a few feet away from my face now, pre-cum streaming out of its obscene purple head as the whole thing jerked and throbbed in arousal.

Why was my wife's huge member suddenly looking so delicious to me?

I licked my lips, finding them dry.

What would that pre-cum taste like? I wondered. Would it be as tangy as its smell?

Fucking hell! What the fuck was I just thinking?

I had to get my head straight, or I might just as well sign up for the monthly faggot newsletter. DickDonna's words were putting ideas in my head even if she wasn't issuing explicit commands. If she woke up now...

I had to act fast. I got up on my knees, and reached out to grab both of her nipples. Good, they were dry, even though most of my wife's camisole had been soaked with her juices. The act had the desired effect. Donna was moaning now, distracted from her earlier train of thought. She roused a little, even as she unconsciously spread her legs.

"Fuck, yeah," she muttered, eyes fluttering slightly open.

"Randy," she said pleasantly. "I love it ... when you please me like this..." It was still DickDonna's voice. I shuddered as my own cock twitched against my boxers in response to hearing its dulcet tones.

I did so love to please her. It turned me on so much to make DickDonna happy.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," DickDonna purred as I twisted her thick nipples between my thumbs and forefingers before pulling at them. I dragged my fingers up from their base to their tips, milking them as I stretched out the breast behind them.

"Oh my," DickDonna croaked. "You are a master at playing with my tits." My whole body shivered at DickDonna's compliment and I had begun to hump my dick against the inside of my boxers. "Y'know, I was having the most wonderful dream."

Yes, I know, I thought. It was a dream where I was your slave, and sucking on your beautiful, delicious cock.

Fuck. I shook my head again. I have to act now.

"Your nipples are too dry Donna," I said. "Here. Let me wet them for you."

This was one of her all-time favourite activities. In high school, I would pull at her nipples for what seemed like hours, using her own saliva to moisten them.

DickDonna knew what I had in mind, and smiled devilishly as I offered her one of my fingers. She sucked it into her mouth, moving her head around as she coated the finger liberally with saliva. Pulling that finger out of her mouth, I dribbled the saliva that it had captured over one of her nipples, and then pulled at it again. The lubrication changed the sensation, and she cooed in response.

"Oh yeah baby..." I interrupted her by plunging the finger of my other hand into her mouth so I could go after the other nipple. She obliged by coating it in saliva just as enthusiastically as she had with the first finger. "Mmmmmmm (slurp) ... You just (slurp slurp) ... Oh God ... (lick) ... I'm soooooo horny..."

I switched hands, latching onto the remaining dry nipple with my newly wet fingers, even as I went back for more with the other hand. I had to keep her from forming coherent sentences while I worked her up enough to get her off in a way that didn't involve my mouth on her cock. The game was having the intended effect. DickDonna was even more beside herself with lust. She was humping the air now with her dick, flinging wads of her syrupy pre-cum everywhere.

Between her own slurps, DickDonna was desperately trying to issue commands, but I just wouldn't let her. It's not to say I hadn't been affected by my wife's pheromones. Pre-cum was splattering my arm, and part of me (one that was getting louder and louder), really, really wanted to see what it tasted like. If she had even suggested I do as much, then all was lost, but I might be able to avoid it if I could just keep DickDonna from completing a sentence.

I kept pushing finger after finger into her mouth to coat them in saliva so that I could then apply it to her sensitive nipples in turn. And when a digit between her lips wasn't enough to distract her, I'd pinch a nipple really hard to break into her train of thought.

"Oh Randy ... (slurp) ... suck my... (pinch) ... ooooooooooo... (slurp) ... Please, it's all I can think about (slurp) ... I want you to ... (pinch) ... Oh God ... MY COCK ... (pinch) ... ggggggggnnnhhh."

DickDonna was so close now. Her whole body was shaking, her stomach clenching as she threw her hips forward repeatedly, desperately trying to rub her cock against something besides just air. I switched positions quickly and, with one finger still in her sucking mouth, I did the last thing I wanted to do, and grabbed a hold of her cock and pumped.

"Cum for me Donna," I called. "Cum for me now!"

Three strong strokes was all it took before she unloaded loudly all over her face, the pillows, and the headboard beyond.

"FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK!" she screamed as she ejaculated wildly, thrusting her ass up into the air quickly and repeatedly. I kept pulling at her cock as she continued to pump out stream after stream of spunk. It must have been a full two minutes before she started to slow down, the final spurt of cum dribbling out onto her stomach to pool in her belly button.

Only afterwards, as I got up to grab a towel and was standing beside the bed, did I realize that I had also cum. It didn't surprise me anymore, and I had resigned myself to knowing that my orgasm was now inextricably tied to hers.

As I cleaned up my wife's mess I looked queasily at her cock. It hadn't softened at all, and cum was still dribbling out of it as it continued to throb. That wasn't a good sign. That meant that my wife wasn't completely satisfied. Her needs were definitely getting stronger, and I was getting concerned at how often her secondary personality had been asserting itself, and how quickly it was coming back now after her orgasms.

This fear was realized a moment later when my wife opened her eyes and, through a face that was coated in her own cum, she smiled wantonly at me. It was clearly DickDonna that looked back at me.

Fuck. She was still in control. How was that possible?

"Well you certainly know how to keep a girl from getting a word in edgewise," she said as she took the towel and started cleaning off her face. "I had such plans for your pretty mouth too."

As she stood up, she planted a kiss on my lips. I could still detect a hint of the spunk that had been there mere moments before. My eyes rolled back in my head as my tongue reluctantly savoured the taste.

"Ah well," she shrugged before turning away from me. "Next time then. Would you mind changing the sheets babe, I really, really need a shower."

I watched my wife leave, incredulous. She was whistling while she walked away, her hips wiggling suggestively as she sauntered out of the room, her dick, now finally deflated but just as long as ever, swinging hypnotically back and forth between her legs. Just as she got to the door to the ensuite, Donna stopped and looked slyly over her shoulder at me with an expression that said she knew that I had been checking out her ass. Then, my wife giggled smugly, blew me a kiss and, winking, finally disappeared into the bathroom.

This was not good, I thought as I changed the bed sheets as instructed.

Things had obviously changed, and I had to get the hell out of here. If I let DickDonna have her way, and she started using my mouth, how long until she went after my ass? Even worse though, if she could control me so easily, how long before I was offering it to her? Maybe even begging her to fuck it?

I was no sissy faggot, and no way in hell was I going to let her turn me into one!

Even as I finished making the bed, I was planning my departure, deciding that the best time to do it was while she was away at work today. But, for now, I couldn't let on that anything was amiss, so, after I'd changed my clothes, I went downstairs to get the coffee going and make breakfast. When she came downstairs a short while later, she was wearing her power suit: a thick skirt and a blazer. It was something that was a little more formal than what she usually wore to work, but it seemed to fit DickDonna's more dominant personality, a personality that was still clearly in control.

This would not be a good day for Belinda—or anybody else for that matter—to mess with my wife.

"Thanks Randy," she said as she helped herself to the coffee. I had set her place at the table with a glass of orange juice and two large glasses of water beside it. She smiled when she saw the arrangement.

"Best keep your water levels up," I said grinning.

As we ate together, I realized that this was the closest we had yet come to what life had been like before the curse. Here we were enjoying a friendly breakfast together, with no obvious animosity towards me on her part. She was finally feeling comfortable with me again, and it kinda hurt that I was just playing along, waiting for her to leave so that I could run as fast and as far as I could from the seemingly sentient monster between her legs.

After we ate, she kissed me, and left by way of the front door. I watched her walk away down the street towards the bus stop, the brash swagger of her hips making it abundantly clear that DickDonna was still prevailing. If anything, this fact strengthened my resolve to escape.

After I spent a good part of the day packing the stuff I'd need, while hoping against hope that she wouldn't come home early and ruin everything, I left a note on the kitchen table, got in the car and drove off.

My note to my wife read as follows:

Dear Donna,

I'm truly sorry, but I just can't be a part of this anymore. It's just too much for me to handle. I know I'm being selfish, but I'm not a gay, and don't like the fact that you're turning me into one.

I'm not leaving you high and dry either. Why not contact your gay friend Gary? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help you out.

I'll be in touch in a few weeks' time - once you've gone back to normal - and we can discuss next steps.

I know it may be hard for you to realize this now, but I love you,

Randy

I'd been on the road about an hour when the backup phone rang. This was an old flip-phone that we kept in the glove box for emergencies. It was also the phone that I'd used to communicate back and forth with Anatolia during our brief affair to reduce the chances of getting caught.

Could it be Anatolia?

Without really thinking about it, I reached into the glovebox, fished out the phone, and flipped it open. I was pulling over to the side of the road, and was about to speak into the phone when I felt it: something sticky was dripping onto my wrist. That's about when I noticed the smell too.

That bitch.

Donna had covered the inside of the flip-phone with her pre-cum and, at this range - with the phone up beside my face - I didn't have a prayer. Although I immediately tried to pull the phone away from my face, I couldn't. All I could do was take deep sniffs to absorb as much as the deep tangy scent as I could. I had never been this close to her pre-cum before, and the effect was even more pronounced than ever. I was instantly hard. Instantly docile. Instantly ready for DickDonna's commands.

"Hello Randy," spoke Donna's voice from the phone.

I groaned and breathed in deeply though my nose.

"Where are you?" she demanded. "Tell me, now."

I couldn't help but tell her.

"What are you doing Randy?" she asked in a tone of voice that made it clear that, by virtue of the fact that she had undoubtedly read the note that I'd left, she already knew the answer.

"I'm running away ... (deep sniff) ... before I do something gay," I answered meekly.