Bound by Love

We followed the whale for twenty minutes, then it dived deep, and we lost it. Mission accomplished; I took us home.

(Ceri)

The thrill of flying and the excitement of seeing a whale filled me with joy. And, I admit, I was very aroused. I longed to throw myself into my husband's arms and kiss him. Naughtily, I wanted to take out his penis and kiss that too.

But, mindful of his request that I not touch him, I kept my hands to myself. I hoped that, at least, Dafydd would make love to me the way he had the night before. I wrapped my arms around myself and sighed.

"What are you thinking about?" Dafydd asked.

"Um... I was thinking about last night," I admitted, flushing.

"I hope you enjoyed it?"

"Mmm, yes..." I closed my eyes and smiled, then added guiltily, "I enjoyed today too! I like spending time with you, not just, you know..."

Dafydd laughed, "I like spending time with you too. And I love making love to you."

"I wish I could touch you," I whispered.

Dafydd took my hand, "Do you trust me?"

I nodded. I knew it wasn't really a good idea to trust someone I'd just met, but I couldn't help it. I'd put my life in his hands.

"Then, please, don't touch me. And don't look at me at night."

"Is that when you turn into a werewolf?" I joked.

Surprising me, Dafydd pushed his shoulders back and howled. I couldn't help it, I laughed.

Brushing a hand over his comb-over, he asked, "Don't I look just like a werewolf?"

I snorted and Dafydd grinned at me.

"I bet you would turn into a puppy dog, you're so cute. You'd be like, a pug!"

"And you'd be an Afghan hound, elegant and graceful."

"I love you, my husband," I said, feeling overwhelmed with emotion in that moment.

"I love you, too."

By the time we got home, the sky was dark and glittering with stars. Excited, I showered and sprawled on the big bed, putting the sleeping mask over my eyes. Dafydd showered in another bathroom, then came to join me. I heard the door open as he entered, and my body tingled happily.

A light touch warmed my abdomen, then drifted up to my breasts. The bed dipped and then legs straddled mine. I felt Dafydd's cock press into my stomach.

"I want to taste you," I said, hopefully.

Lips brushed mine and a tongue flicked into my mouth. I groaned and rocked my hips.

"I want to taste your penis," I clarified, "and your cum."

I felt as Dafydd stood, then walked up to the head of the bed. Moments later, silky skin over a hard rod touched my cheek. I turned my head and caught his cock in my lips, using my tongue to pull him into my mouth. Loose skin folded over a spongy head, feeling soft and delicate on my tongue.

I lifted my head, trying to get more, and I felt Dafydd lower himself, pushing his cock deep into my mouth. The tip hit my throat and I gagged, coughing. I reached up my hand to push the intrusion away, it was instinctual. Dafydd caught my hands in his and the cock pulled out a bit.

I felt the bed and the penis in my mouth shift as Dafydd pressed my hands into the bed above my head. Then, his cock started pressing in and out, but not deeply. I was enthralled with the feel of it, filling my mouth, so thick that my jaw hurt to hold it open. I explored him with my tongue, wishing I could explore it with my hands and eyes as well, but knowing that was impossible.

I found an opening in the head of his penis and pushed my tongue in, tasking something thick and mucus-like there. His semen, a bit of pre-cum to tease my palate. I groaned and my clit twitched eagerly.

Too soon, Dafydd pulled out and moved around to restrain my wrists.

"Will you cum in my mouth?" I asked, disappointed.

"Sorry, my love, but my cum is reserved for your womb."

"Oh," I said, realizing he was seriously intent on getting me pregnant. The idea honestly made me even more aroused.

I expected Dafydd to penetrate me as soon as I was tied, but instead he pressed his hands into my breasts, massaging my small mounds and pulling at my nipples. I arched my back, pressing my chest into his hands eagerly.

One hand went away and was replaced by a tongue, and teeth. He captured my nipple between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. I bucked, the pain and pleasure driving me wild.

Fingers pressed into my vagina as Dafydd teased my boobs. I rocked my hips into his fingers and pulled at the bonds holding my hands, desire spiking through me.

It felt like forever before Dafydd finally grabbed my legs and pressed them upward, then thrust into me, sinking his cock in deeply. I felt him slam into the bottom of my vagina painfully. I screamed, but I couldn't tell if I wanted him to stop or not.

He didn't stop, but he did carefully reduce his penetration depth. Thrusting rhythmically, Dafydd's cock felt amazing. Pressure built inside, but there was no release, just a continual increase. I longed to rub my clit and come, but my orgasm wasn't in my control.

With a final deep, and painful, thrust, my husband shot his sperm into me. As had happened the last time, my vagina filled with unexpected warmth and tingled. Moments later, an intense orgasm took me.

"Oh, fuck!" I screamed, then blushed furiously, embarrassed to have cursed so loudly.

(Dafydd)

I grinned as I saw Ceri tense in orgasm. Another benefit of being a sex witch was magic orgasm inducing semen. Honestly, though, I'd never gotten as much fun out of it as I was having with my wife.

When Ceri finally relaxed, I unbound her and moved her to one side of the bed, settling into my side happily. I figured I'd wake up and fuck her again one or two times in the night. My goal was to fill her with cum and overwhelm her ovaries with an army of my sperm.

This desire to be a father was new to me too. I wondered if it was the love potion that did it. But, as the effects of the love potion faded away over the next day, I found my feelings unchanged. The urgency to connect dwindled, as did the need for constant contact, but not my desire to impregnate Ceri, nor my love for her. I was delighted to observe that her feelings seemed to remain just as constant and unchanged as well.

I reveled in her fleeting touches on my hands, the only part of body that I'd allowed her free access. I chafed at the need for the glamour, longing to show her my true body, to feel her kisses on my chest and abs and thighs. During our fifth evening, I forgot to take care of the illusion and lay flat on top of her, letting my firm abs rub against her soft stomach. Her sharp gasp of surprise at the contact brought me back to reality and I cursed my mistake.

That night, I lay awake for hours, fearing that Ceri would let curiosity compel her to look at me, and I could not hold the glamour while I slept. But, the next morning, there was no suspicion in her eyes. If she'd wondered why my stomach felt firm instead of soft, it seemed it was only a fleeting concern. I sighed with relief.

As had become our habit, we had breakfast on the porch that overlooked the ocean. Ceri proved to be a wonderful breakfast cook. Although her skills did not extend to dinner, which I'd discovered at the cost of a whole chicken. But in the mornings, so far, she'd made me breakfast burritos and egg sandwiches, poached eggs, French toast, and fresh squeezed orange juice. Yet, she would only eat a hard-boiled egg as she watched me feast. No amount of encouragement got her to eat more, but she lingered over her black coffee happily.

Following breakfast, we would take a walk along the beach, the sand mushing in our toes. We would talk about our dreams for the future and tell stories of our past. I hated that there were so many stories I couldn't tell her, or that I had to edit stories of my childhood to disguise how very long ago it was.

Around lunch time, we would retreat to the sitting room, where I would play piano while Ceri enjoyed phone games, or just watched me. Sometimes, she'd show me some of her games and I'd teach her a bit of music.

It was a blissful time.

"My sister wants to come see me," Ceri broke the silence that afternoon after I finished a song, "will there be time tomorrow?"

"Of course," I agreed. "I'll go to work for a few hours in the afternoon to give you space."

If only I had known what damage her sister would wreak on our lives. I would have destroyed her, not for the pain caused to me, but for the pain she inflicted on my love.

(Ceri)

"Awen!" I cried and hugged my sister happily.

"Umph..." She gasped, then after pulling her face back from my shoulder, "Hi, Ceri."

I let go and stood back, then pulled Ceri into the house towards the sitting room, where Dafydd and I spent so much time together. I smiled at the memory of Dafydd playing the piano, marveling again at how incredible he was: talented, kind, and a brilliant lover.

"You've done well for yourself, haven't you, little sister?" Awen commented, taking a seat on a leather recliner.

I ignored the hint of jealousy in her voice, "Yes, Dafydd is a better man than I ever hoped to meet!"

"He is certainly rich," Awen replied, "money like this is enough to compensate for any amount of fat and ugliness."

I frowned, "Dafydd maybe be a tad overweight, but he's certainly not ugly!"

"He's bald and short and has squinty eyes. And he's not just a tad overweight, the man is obese." Awen seethed, as if her very self-worth depended on demeaning the joy that I'd found.

I took a deep, calming breath. It wasn't fair for me to judge her so harshly. After all, her husband was a money pit, but he was classically handsome. If Awen needed to hold on to that to feel better about her own marriage, I should not grudge her.

"How have you been?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Fine. Your husband gave me enough money to pay off our debt. Although I now see that he could have afforded much more," Awen huffed ungratefully.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, hoping to steer my sister to some safe topic.

"Sure. I bet you have some fancy expensive wine, huh?"

"I guess, I'll take a look."

I had no idea how much any of the wine cost, and I was pretty sure that Awen didn't either. So, I just picked something from the wine cooler that I hoped Dafydd wouldn't miss. I knew he had a lot more bottles in the storage shed, and I figured that's where the really expensive stuff was.

I took the wine, a glass, and a bottle of water back to the sitting room. Awen was rifling through the room when I returned. She looked up at me with no sign of guilt when I came in and took the wine bottle, ignoring the glass.

I sighed and sat down, opening my water. I guess I should have known better than to expect this would be a pleasant visit. For the next hour, I listened as my sister got drunk and ranted about how she deserved more than she had.

She whined until I drank a couple glasses of wine as well. Because I didn't drink often, it was more than enough to make me tipsy. Which is how I found myself telling Awen about Dafydd's strange rules and nightly activities.

"You mean you aren't allowed to touch him?" Awen hooted with delight.

I shook my head, already regretting sharing.

"And he ties you up and fucks you?" She laughed so hard she cried.

Then suddenly, Awen's expression turned sober, and she straightened, "Ceri, how do you know it's really him fucking you? What if he brings in another man to do the deed? What if he's impotent, or just likes to watch? What if he has some sort of horrible disease and that's why he doesn't want you to see? What if it's contagious! Ceri, you have to investigate this. You can't let it go unquestioned."

I was filled with foreboding at her words. As much as I wanted to deny it, I knew there was something strange about Dafydd, about the intensity of the love I'd felt that first day, about his mysterious rules. All this seemed too much like a magic fairy tale for there not to be a rotten secret hidden somewhere.

After my sister left, I couldn't forget her cynical words. They haunted me as Dafydd mounted me that night, even as I writhed with another magnificent orgasm.

(Dafydd)

When I arrived at work, my mother made no comment on my weeklong absence. Instead, she had been delighted with the career ending video that had finally been posted, just the day before, on Ceri's YouTube channel. But when she knelt to give me a congratulatory blowjob, I pushed her away.

"I'm not in the mood," I said, defying her for the first time in hundreds of years.

"Oh, really?" My mom asked, her eyes glittering dangerously. "You're tired? What, have you found some trollop you prefer over me?"

"Of course not," I denied, struggling to keep calm. The last time that I'd neglected her for another woman, my mom had sent the woman on a one-way trip to another continent. And that had been after I'd won a bit of clemency for her by claiming that I didn't like her at all. My mom's first intention had been to disfigure the woman's face and take all her money, so she'd be forced to whore for the cheapest clientele.

The memory chilled me. Using the anger, I pulled my mom to her feet and threw her over her desk. Pressing her into the hard wood, I pulled her skirt and underwear away violently.

"It's just that I'd rather fuck you," I growled at her.

"Oooh!" My mother cooed happily.

Feeling disgusted with myself, I hardened my cock and slammed it into her vagina. Unlike Ceri, my mother could handle my full length. I pummeled her savagely, hoping this hurt her, even if I knew she was enjoying it.

I watched the clock as I worked, timing my release. After ten minutes, I figured I'd done enough. Although I really didn't want to, I shot a single spurt of cum into my mother, hating her for taking that from Ceri, who deserved it much more. But my sperm did its job, sending my mother into a series of mini-orgasms, so unlike the single earth-shattering orgasms that Ceri enjoyed.

"No one fucks better than you," My mother said with a contented sigh as the orgasms tapered away.

I didn't answer. I headed right down to the gym and jumped in the shower. I scrubbed at my dick furiously, hating it, hating my mother, hating myself. I felt used, which was nothing new. But worse, I felt like I'd betrayed Ceri. How could she understand this?

When I finally made it home, Ceri seemed troubled. For an instant, I thought she knew what I had done, but that was impossible. No, the problem must have been with her sister's visit, I concluded.

"Is Awen well?" I asked. "Does she need more money?"

"No, nothing like that," Ceri said with a warm smile that still held a tinge of concern.

I longed for the intuitive power of the love potion again, so that I might truly discern the cause of her disquiet. I could have taken another dose, but that was a dangerous game to play. So, instead, I made love to my wife as ardently as I could, trying to bury the memory of my mother's body under mine.

I did not sleep well but was plagued by nightmares. When I heard the scream of terror, I thought at first that it was part of my dream. But it was much worse. I opened my eyes to see the light blazing and Ceri trembling next to the bed, tears streaming down her face.

"Where's Dafydd?!" She wailed at me, "Dafydd! Dafydd, what have you done?"

"I'm here, my love," I said, reaching out to hold her.

But she recoiled from me in horror, "You sound like my husband, but you are not him!"

A sick feeling coiled in my gut as I realized that the glamour was gone. Anger followed, swift and unfair. I cast the glamour again violently. It sparked to life in an instant.

"Why have you betrayed my trust?!" I bellowed in anguish, momentarily forgetting my own betrayal.

Ceri gasped and screamed again as I transformed before her eyes, "What? What are you? What is this?"

"Something you were never meant to see, my love," I answered sadly.

"Love? You speak of love when you aren't even you? All this is a lie! You have bound me with lies and illusion. How can I trust anything? What is even real?" Ceri moaned.

"You speak of trust, but you were the one who destroyed what we had with your actions tonight!" And with those words lingering in the air, I stormed out of the bedroom.

My chest was on fire. Pain, rage, and love fueling an inferno within. I couldn't stand the sound of Ceri's weeping that still echoed through the house, and I couldn't find the calm I would need to comfort her, so I left. I walked along the beach for hours until the sun rose high in the sky, my heart worrying over everything that had happened. Eventually I realized there was only one solution, I had to tell Ceri the truth, all of it. And then I had to hope that she would forgive me. Decision made, I turned around and walked home.

The sun was low again when I arrived, and Ceri was gone. Although I waited until the stars shone bright, she did not return.

(Ceri)

In confusion and fear, I watched the familiar squat, round, shape of my beloved storm from the room. There was no other explanation for what I'd seen, my husband was magic. And knowing that, I couldn't deny that he'd used magic to make me his wife, speeding through a courtship that should have taken months in a single day.

I felt broken, betrayed, and uncertain. The slam of the front door as Dafydd left was like a lightning bolt to my heart proclaiming me unloved and unwanted. Guilt tore through me then, because after all, I caused this by breaking my word.

When I'd seen the handsome young man in bed, after turning on the light, I'd thought the worst. Awen's insidious suggestion that my husband was sharing me with other men filled me with despair and I'd screamed. When that same young man had transformed before my eyes into my husband, I'd actually felt a little relieved, but still angry, and frankly completely bewildered.

After working out all my sadness though tears, I sat and thought. I had no idea what was going on. But I couldn't deny that Dafydd had treated me with nothing but respect and kindness, and passion. I still loved him. I trusted, in my heart, that whatever his reasons were for his strange behavior, they were good ones. I just hoped that there was still a chance for us.

I waited until the sun was high, but Dafydd didn't come home. The waiting was driving me mad with anxiety and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to do something.

Figuring I could at least ease my sister's worries, I called her.

"Hello?" Awen answered.

"Awen, I took your advice and investigated what was going on with Dafydd in the nights. It turns out it was nothing other than that he doesn't like the way he looks when he sleeps," I said, deciding not to go into the questionable details of magic. "But he woke up and saw me and now he's mad at me and I'm afraid I've ruined everything!"

My voice rose as I spoke and I let out a sob at the end, as sadness overwhelmed me again.

"Well, he was too good for you anyway. You can't come back to live with me if that's what you're thinking!" Awen said cruelly.

Something shifted inside me. I'd given my sister so many chances, so much benefit of the doubt, but she was always mean to me. And today, on this worst day of my life, my marriage in shambles, my heart breaking, even now, she could not speak a kind word to me. I was tired of making excuses for her, I realized.

"Goodbye, Awen," I said, and hung up the phone before she could reply.

Trembling, I deleted her from my phone book as well. To think, I'd listened to her poison and let it compel me to betray the solemn promise I'd made. I felt sick. I had to find Dafydd and talk to him. He had said he'd gone to work yesterday, maybe he was there now?

Resolute, I made my way to the headquarters of Wynne Beauty. I walked into the lobby and was surprised to see that all the employees appeared to be handsome men, not a woman in sight.