Elenore

Elenore

Elenore is a witch. She is not an arrogant Karen or a nasty old lady. Nor is she a Valley Girl playing at witchcraft with her immature girlfriends in tittering childish giddiness. Elenore is a bonafide, magic-wielding, full Mistress of the craft. She could turn an enemy into a newt, make any guy her slave, or open a door without touching it.

Elenore is not some ugly hag, as this is a myth spread among humans to vilify her race. Indeed, she is beautiful. Statuesque at five feet ten inches, so with heels, she towers over almost any human woman and would be a challenge to most men. Her height and broad shoulders make her an intimidating figure for both genders. Elenore has high cheekbones, a sturdy but feminine jawline, a long neck, and beautiful long tresses of Auburn hair. Her natural breasts are large, pear-shaped, and stick straight out of her chest with long spear-like nipples. She is also slim and trim with a curvy and lovely body.

During her time in the dimension of men, she magically reduces her breasts and puts on pounds all over to counter the attraction of the passionate, drooling fools she often encounters. Adjusting and maintaining her body form is not done quickly or without cost. The spell requires too much magical energy and time to be completed and then released over and over each day. So, the magic spell has to be applied and left in effect until it can be removed. Unfortunately, a deep aching will eventually envelop the entire body and become so intense that she must free it. When she does, it produces an ache in another part of her body whose demand is irresistible and demands the use of hand, toy, or cock. The problem is the victim of the spell is rendered so weary they cannot answer the demand themselves without help. Only once in a drunken state did she attempt to alleviate her need with a human male. By the time she finished with him, he had aged five years. Luckily, her powers dimmed and eliminated his remembrance of her.

Elenore worked in an office in accounting, a mind-numbingly dull job to most, but when one controlled the POWERS OF THE UNIVERSE...well, let's tone it down a bit. She had magic on her side to the thirteenth level anyway. Elenore could accomplish in minutes what most needed hours to do. Wisely, she didn't oversell her abilities but kept herself at the top of her boss's list, thus helping to guarantee her continued employment. Elenore did not need money. Were she inclined to, she could become a multi-billionaire in the human dimension overnight. In the dimension of the witches, there was no need for money in the concept of humanity anyway.

Elenore had her coven, a legacy cabin in the enchanted forest of the Thirteen Sisters, and magic. What more did she need? Thirteen fellows, nine females and four males, a tight-knit community, secure in a home that could not be taken from her, and the incredible freedom and utility of magic afforded her all she needed.

Then why did she bother to live in the human dimension at all? That is a question both ancient and modern. Ancient wise, the roots of magic are located in the witches' dimension, a dimension established in the primordial past whose origins were long forgotten even by her tribe.

The roots of magic are just like any living thing. It must be nourished. The dimension of witches had long ago exhausted its resources. Only by connecting with the modern dimension of men through Gaia could nourishment be provided, and the only way to make the connection was through the presence of witches on each side. This connection did not affect the individual witches. It was just a link, a bridge. It allowed something like a trickle charge of nourishment to the roots of magic but also introduced magic into the dry wasteland of the dimension of men. So, each witch spent time in the dimension of men to maintain the roots, the link between ancient and modern, and the power of their magic. The witches being in the dimension of men had not been easy, as the list of the thousands of captured and executed witches in the past detailed. Today, however, it is much easier and safer.

Elenore lived in a condo on the thirteenth floor, which always made her smile because the button said fourteen.

"These humans are so damn superstitious," she thought.

It was Friday, and she was going home, not to the miserable condo. She was going to her cottage in the Three Sisters Forest. Elenore was delighted and invigorated as she felt the sensations created by the elevator beginning to lift, only to be disappointed when it stopped on nearly every floor.

Finally, the elevator arrived on her floor, and she exited the elevator alone into the hallway. There were four condos on the floor. She turned right toward hers at the end of the hall on the left. It had been a month in this hellhole of human misery, the longest continuous time she had been under her body-shaping spell, and her body ached so much that she had removed her bra before leaving work. Halfway to her door, she gazed around and saw no one in the hallway.

"Fuck it," she gasped and released the spell restraining her magnificent tits and reshaping her body.

Her rock-hard nipples seemingly tried to pierce her blouse as the strains on her buttons popped three, sending them clattering on the tile floor and freeing her luscious breasts not only from the spell but her blouse as well. Her waistline, ass, thighs, and all of her slimmed. The skirt dropped to the floor, and her thong, held only by the pinch of her now magnificent tush, hung on sagging to just above her clit. The release was so profound she dropped her briefcase and was barely able to stand, moaning. Luckily, no one else was at home or in the hallway. After several moments, she recovered somewhat and, retrieving her briefcase and skirt, managed to stagger to her door and get her key fob to let her into her apartment.

She stumbled into her condo, again barely able to stand. The ache in her pussy demanded satisfaction, and she squealed as she was so exhausted she was unable to rub or even clutch her pussy, weeping for relief. Her only desire was to go home to get alleviation of this damnable ache. Leaving her briefcase where she dropped it and her skirt where it fell, she freed herself of the ruined blouse. Topless Elenore staggered in her sagging oversized thong towards the portal to the witches' dimension, better known as her bedroom closet.

Elenore stepped through the portal into her bedroom closet in her cottage, and her black cat, Simon, met her, mewing with joy at Elenore's return.

"Transform," the beautiful witch croaked as she fell onto her bed, moaning.

The cat began to transform into the form of a human male as Elenore moaned, unable to even roll on the bed. Within a minute, entirely changed, the cat-now-man ripped the thong from Elenore and buried his long and thick cock into her soppy wet, and ready pussy. She screamed in delight and somehow wrapped her arms and legs around him as he began the process of relieving her ache.

This man-beast was skillful, driving his ample member in as far as it would go, grinding his pubis on her clit, and withdrawing until it almost fell out, repeating each stroke first slowly and then gaining speed. Elenore's eyes rolled up in her head, and as her energy returned, she humped back in synchronous, eventually frenetic bliss, each inward stroke a train wreck of pleasure followed by a reset to do it again.

Soon, he was pounding her, and her first orgasm shook her entire body in what looked like a full-body dry heave. Squirt hosed from her pussy around the beast's cock, drenching bed clothes and legs. An even stronger orgasm followed, which more approximated a convulsion, her pussy ejecting a flood of cum.

Over and over, she came, squirt flooding and soaking the bed each time, her squeals turning to screams of unbearable pleasure as she gripped him with her legs and begged him to fuck her harder and deeper. On and on, the beast pounded her, with the bed springs squealing their displeasure at their abuse. The beast also came over and over without stopping or letting up, adding his scent of semen to that of wet pussy, sweat, and squirt.

The man-beast peeled her legs off him, flipped her over, and pulled her to her hands and knees. Gripping both of her wrists, he pulled them behind her and clasped them in one hand and a fistful of hair in his other. Bayonetting her drooling pussy again, he continued to pound her, creating waves of flesh in her magnificent buttocks and sending waves of pleasure to her cunt. Suspended only on her knees and his cock, she could see herself being fucked in a mirror, and the sheer eroticism of it brought on another series of convulsive paroxysms. All the time, the man-beast mewed his pleasure cumming over and over, his sticky cum dripping out and coating her naked hairless pussy and thighs.

Finally, the ache relieved Elenore gasped, "Your spell is broken."

With that, the man-beast began to change back, his cock squirting its last load of sticky cum on her exposed pussy as she fell forward onto the bed. Fully retransformed, the cat, yowling, crawled off to find a female cat to do what he had done for Elenore, and Elenore fell asleep on the cum soaked bed, exhausted.

The morning light streaming through the window of her bedroom awoke Elenore. She was in the same position she had been when the man-beast left her. The bedclothes were still damp, and the stench of cum, squirt, and wet pussy filled the air. She lifted her head and rubbed her eyes, yawning.

"Why the hell do you do this to yourself?" screeched her mother as she entered the room. "There is no reason to restrain your body. Yes, your breasts are large and your body inviting, but you could use a spell of revulsion on those monkeys," she scolded.

"Oh, Mother, please, we have talked about this before. The revulsion spell is too strong. I don't want people, even men, running away screaming from a grotesque," she said, frustrated.

"Nonsense, if done properly..."

"Cassandra," Elenore screamed, taking her mother by surprise, then continuing a bit more subdued, "I have a headache. I'm naked, covered in squirt and cat cum, embarrassed beyond imagining, and I don't want to discuss this now. In the human dimension, I will live as I see fit. When it is your turn to spend time there, I will not quibble with how you live.

Her mother is a regal twenty-sixth-level Mistress of the arts. Cassandra, too, was tall and voluptuous, well-built and curvaceous. She is about to be inducted into the Council of the Great Oak, a leader among her people. Stiffening her back, she pulled herself to her full height, enraged at her daughter's insolence.

"Why, you little snot. I should put a complete body restraint spell on you and turn you into some flat-chested ton of lard for a year. Then, put a chastity spell on you when I released you. Your fucking cat would be useless to you then and let you wallow in your need," Casandra spat out. "For the Oak's sake, Elenore, you are a sixty-year-old witch of the thirteenth level. You should have magic to the point that you shouldn't have to fuck your cat!"

Elenore really did have a whopping headache and was mortified that her mother was seeing her in this condition and that she did have to fuck her cat. Anyway, cat cum is sticky and has a very pungent odor.

"Mother," she said respectfully, closing her eyes and dropping her head. "I know you are probably right, but I have another two years of human dimension time to serve in my current stint before I am relieved. To look at my grotesque form in the revulsion spell every day is just too much. Please, we will discuss this later. Let me get a shower and something to eat so I can be more civilized."

What mother doesn't feel compassion for her child when they are under stress? Casandra also mellowed a bit, and although still angry, she was more disturbed by her daughter's distress.

"Yes, get yourself cleaned up, and we will talk later," Casandra replied.

"Oh, Mother, I almost forgot. Is there a circle fire tonight?" Elenore asked.

"Yes, at midnight, as usual. You have been gone a long time, Elenore. Don't push that restraint spell so far," Casandra replied, turning up her nose at the sight of her naked daughter covered in cat cum. "It is...disgusting," she said, turning for the door.

Elenore rose and slowly padded to her cottage's shower. Her black cat, Simon, sat in the corner preening himself, and she swore he looked at her with a knowing grin.

"Transform," she said aloud as Elenore needed just a little more relief, which would easily rinse off in the shower.

>>>>>

Once satisfied, cleaned, and clothed, Elenore decided she didn't want to cook and left her cottage for breakfast at the Inn. The Inn was a short walk down a curvy path through the forest. It was a typical Witches Inn, looking like an oversized cottage. As its thatched roof came into view, she smiled. It indeed looked like pictures in human fairy tale books. She entered the door into the subdued lighting of the main dining room equipped with long trenchard tables and benches. The smell of burning wood from the hearth couldn't overshadow the pungent odor of bacon frying, enlivening her taste buds.

There were a couple of patrons seated scattered about in the room. A troll, which she didn't want to be too close to, sat near the fire at the other end of the room. They had an odd odor, and their table manners were atrocious. She didn't want that to disturb her breakfast. A fairy couple, as was usual, pawed each other in the far corner. Fairies matched the rabbit equivalent of the human dimension in the witches' dimension. They were like magnets, like poles repelling, but when the opposite poles presented fucking was the sure result. It was a wonder they didn't overrun the entire dimension. From the looks of it, the female's tits were out, and she was wanking the male's cock.

"Stop that, you damn fairy sluts. Take that shit outside," bellowed a brawny Cyclops.

He was the owner, and Elenore squealed excitedly, "Ishmael!"

The brawny Cyclops looked up, blinked, and replied in kind, "Elenore!"

He quickly strode to meet her as she ran and leaped into his arms. Dwarfed by him, he held her gently, but their kiss was passionate as he held her suspended, her feet well off the floor, their tongues dancing. She could feel his arm-sized member grow as he held her tight.

After some time, he set her down, saying, "Elenore, it has been some time. Where have you been?"

She was somewhat embarrassed. This big, brawny Cyclops was an off-and-on lover, and she had not let him know of her current mandatory stint in the human dimension. Each witch had terms lasting three years every seven years, and she had been in her time an entire year.

A series of images flashed in her mind of his rock-hard prodigious cock, its angry purple head spewing ropes and ropes of what seemed pints and pints of cum bathing and glazing her face and tits. She loved its warm slickness and the forced humbleness of being showered in such a way. Then she remembered how she accommodated his monster cock by transforming her pussy to accept all of him. The orgasms she experienced with him were mind-bending, and her pussy flooded her skimpy thong. A drop or two began a ticklish course down her thigh.

They sat across from each other, their hands clasped, catching up on all that had happened when a female cyclops entered the dining room from the back storage room and stood beside Ishmael.

"Yes, Abigail, what do you need," he said, obviously addressing the Cyclops but looking deep into Elenore's eyes.

The female was dressed as most Cyclops females dressed in a loose-fitting dress going halfway down the calf whose top was like a loose-fitting tank top. The top was low cut in the back, had huge armholes, and barely covered her enormous tits. Cyclops children have huge appetites, and tits this size were needed. The dress was easy to get tits out for feeding, and well, Cyclops females liked to fuck too. As he spoke, Abigail stepped closer to Ishmael, put her hands on his shoulder, and rubbed her pussy against his upper arm, letting out a whispered whine.

Only then did Ishmael remove his gaze from Elenore and focus on Abigail. The look on Abigail's face could not have been plainer than if written in a book. It caused Elenore to smile and pull her hands away.

"It seems you have chores to attend to, Ishmael. Perhaps you could convince your cook to prepare some tasty bird eggs and bacon...when you both have the time," she tittered.

"How many damn times must I tell you fucking fairies to take that shit outside," Ishmael bellowed, rising and angry.

Sure enough, the two fairies were actively fucking naked, their clothes discarded on the table. Their little wings beat incredibly fast, making them hover while the male pounded the female from behind. Both looked up as the enormous Cyclops rose to chase them, but there was nothing to fear. Even in the midst of an interrupted fuck the fairies could easily outpace the Cyclops. They simply buzzed around him, still coupled together without stopping their fuck. Elenore felt the rush of air on her neck as they passed close by.

"Come then," Ishmael grunted to Abigail, taking her hand, and she followed him to the other end of the room and through the door to the storage room Abigail had recently come in from.

No sooner did the door close than a great weight was slammed against it, and a howl of bestial proportions echoed in the room. This was followed by grunting, squealing, and a steady pounding of the door as if someone was using a sledgehammer. The racket rose and rose until a female scream and loud grunting announced the culmination of the act.

Moments later, Abigail entered again, her left tit entirely out of her dress, its fist-sized areola and an enormous rigid nipple pointing the way. Abigail walked up to Elenore, either unaware of her clothing malfunction or not caring. It was also readily apparent that a white milky fluid was running down her legs onto her bare feet, leaving a trail of droplets as she walked. Her face, chest, and breasts were flushed and pink.

"There will be a short delay on your meal as I sent the gnomes out to gather birds eggs this morning, and they are yet to return. I was just notified they are nearly back, so it will only be a few more minutes. Is there anything I can get you until then?" Abigail said breathily, looking over her shoulder at the door she had come from several times.

"That will be fine, Abigail. I am in no hurry," Elenore replied, smiling.

Nodding, Abigail began walking back to the door but sped up with each stride until she was running. The door flew open, and she passed through it. Another great weight was slammed against the door, and again, it sounded like someone was pounding it with a sledgehammer. Squeals and moans and cries of ecstasy resounded again in the room.

Elenore smiled as the two fairies returned to gather their clothes, thinking, "I guess it will be a bit before I get my breakfast."

Elenore did eventually get her breakfast. The door must have been well built because it withstood two more pounding events by the time she did. Abigail cooked it on the open fire while humming an old Cyclops tune, the white fluid puddling under her and her tits neatly put away. Ishmael returned to talk with Elenore but was soon called away on delivery business, something about the late beer delivery. Elenore felt warm and happy as she ate, the scent of wood smoke and bacon heavy in the air. She was home.

>>>>>

After returning to her cottage, Elenore, with the business of the fairies and the cyclops, was also a bit horny. She looked at Simon, and the cat looked back. Again, she thought he smirked as he rubbed his paw across his nose. There was a circle fire tonight, and she knew Peter would be there. Peter was a great name for him because he did, indeed, have a magnificent one. They had known each other since childhood, and it seemed natural that they would end up in the same coven. Peter did not lead the coven. Andrew directed it, and for the lack of a better word, Andrew was a nerd. He was already a fifteenth-level warlock, two complete levels above the best in the coven, namely her. Females did lead covens, but the old ways of subordinating females were only slowly being repealed, even for witches.