Elenore

For most of the day, Elenore just lounged around, getting hornier by the minute until, at dinner time, she decided again to frequent the Inn. It was pretty busy, and she was seated between a Pan Goat and a female goblin. Pan Goats are disgusting, always playing with their Willies. The goblin was glad to have someone between her and the Pan Goat. Fed up with the Pan Goat rubbing his cock on her leg, Elenore threatened to cast an impotence spell on him, which quieted him down. The female goblin wasn't much better. It turned out she was a lesbian and pulled her tits out to prove it. Elenore also calmed her down with a promise to meet later, which she never intended to honor.

Abigail was frantically busy but took it all in stride, preparing the meals, cutting meat, serving beer and ale. Standing at the fire made her sweat, and rivulets of sweat ran down her breasts, soaking her top. Occasionally she would rub them away and accidentally expose one or more tits to the pleasure of the male patrons.

After dinner, Elenore returned to her cottage to nap and prepare for the ceremony. It wasn't that she had to do a lot to dress for the ceremony. The required dress was to be sky-clad. All she needed was her cloak and a smile. Instead, she mussed and fussed with her hair and put on the least little bit of makeup on her face but rouged her areolas, nipples, and labia. The purpose of the ceremony was an invitation for procreation. Not that she was about to procreate at only sixty because she was much too young to bear a child. There was plenty of time for that. Her mother, Cassandra, had had her when she was past one hundred, and she intended to go much longer than that.

The act of procreation, crudely called fucking was not out of her reach. Since Peter was to lead the ceremony, Elenore wanted to be on the receiving end. Peter's cock was long and thick, and she knew how to make it rock hard. Elenore fantasized about him bouncing it off her cervix, exciting her G spot, and stroking her clit. As she envisioned all this, her pussy became wet, leaking onto the faux leather seat of her stool. Simon mewed and gave her that knowing look.

"Does the fucking cat know when I get horny," she thought.

She pondered about using the cat again but remembered her mother's disapproving gaze that morning, which put her off. Anyway, a little denial would only increase the pleasure if she were picked by Peter tonight, and she intended to do everything according to the rules to be selected.

Elenore arrived in the center of the Oak Grove just before midnight. A circle of fire about fifteen feet in diameter was lit, surrounding a large stone shaped into a shallow arch. A passage about two feet wide was left unfired to enter the middle on the North East side. Like all covens, they had nine females and four males. A group of three was stationed at each of the four ordinal points. Three females were on the East, South, and West, and the three males were on the North. The preselected leftover male, Peter, was stationed in the middle with the stone altar.

At a signal, the groups encircled the fire with one of the three on the exact ordinal point and another one-third of the distance to the next. In this way, two were between the ordinal points, with everyone evenly spaced. They then began a preselected chant and, at a traditional place in the chant, removed their capes and tossed them behind them. Sky-clad, they started a slow, seductive, rhythmic dance around the fire to their right.

Elenore loved the cool air of the night on her naked skin and, with it, began to get wet in a serious way. Her nipples hardened to pebbles, and the dampness from her pussy tingled in the night air. It didn't hurt that the eroticism of being naked in front of others stimulated her, and the sight of four luscious cocks, hard and ready, always made her pant in desire. Whenever she could, she locked on Peter's eyes, trying to seduce him with her eyes, her seductive undulations, and the ancient words of the chant she spoke.

The lone male in the center, Peter, also discarded his cloak and began a similar dance in the opposite direction of the dancers on the circumference. By now, the males all had erections, and the females were starting to become aroused. The idea was to tease the lone male in the center to erotic overload.

Peter couldn't help but notice all the naked females doing their seductive dances, but the dance of Elenore was more enticing than all combined. Peter had loved Elenore for more years than he could remember and couldn't take his eyes off her as her beautiful tits bounced and swayed, the red areolas and long nipples crying to him. So enamored by her, Peter often looked over his shoulders to glimpse her behind him. It wasn't lost on Elenore, and her dance behind him was just as erotic as when she was before him.

As time passed, the dancers became more and more energetic, the female teasing more erotic, and the dancers more aroused. The chant now changed to an ancient one in the old language of the witches calling someone to service their needs. At this point, the dances became frenetic, the female teasing was obscene, and the dancers were near the end of restraint.

Elenore's actions would have been considered obscene if such a concept had been held by witches participating in the ceremony. She threw herself into her frenzied dance, leaping, touching, shaking, rubbing, stroking, even penetrating herself. Her pussy liquor coated her fingers and hands as well as her thighs as it seemed to pour from her. The fire of the ceremony had lit the passionate, lustful desire in her breast, and she became totally uninhibited. Her mind burned with the desire to be fucked, long and hard and rough.

At this point, Peter called out her name in desperate desire, "Elenore!"

Her body leaped at the sound, and she ran to the circle's entrance, leaping into Peter's expectant arms. After pressing her close, his cock leaking precum on her belly and her fluids running down her legs, he gently laid her down on the stone. Her heels touched the ground on one end, her legs spread wide, and her hands stretched over her head, touching the ground. The rock altar arched her back, presenting her pussy for all to see and Peter to use. He plunged his cock into her pussy in one motion causing her to scream in ecstasy.

In a lust-filled daze, the dancers stopped to observe.

Peter's ass rose and fell rapidly as he pounded Elenore. She was literally caught between a rock and a hard...well, thing. Each stroke was wild, fierce, furious, and erotic, passionate, desperate. Elenore could feel his cock head bounce off her cervix as she squealed in wanton lustful pleasure. Each stroke catapulted her to a level higher and higher until she thought she would explode in desire. When she saw her orgasm coming, it was almost terrifying, like looking at a tsunami towering over you. When it struck, it was like being overwhelmed in an ocean wave, tossed and bounced along the bottom. She screamed her orgasm, a sacrifice to the Old Oak Gods, convulsing at a level of pleasure she had never experienced before. Her body shook and trembled in convulsive waves of pleasure.

Her screams pushed Peter over the edge as well, and howling in pleasure, he sent streams of cum deep into Elenore's pussy. Her cunt was coated with his seed with such force it squirted out around his member, glazing her thighs. Before her first orgasm diminished, his filling of her pussy with his cum sent her over the edge again, the two waves of pleasure synchronizing and overwhelming her, rising to such a level that she squirted. Elenorer convulsed in abject pleasure, oblivious to where she was, who she was with, or why she was there. This combined orgasm, this combined sacrifice to the Oak Gods, must have pleased them because it went on and on until she nearly passed out, her body slowly recovering but still trembling.

The act was consummated with Elenore's screams and Peter's howling confirmation. With a lustful cry of anticipation, an orgy of lust began for the rest. This orgy lasted until all could no longer complete the act, which was more than a couple of hours.

At the deepest darkness of the night, the spent lovers, Elenore and Peter, reluctantly disengaged. Unable to continue physically, they wanted to continue more than life mentally, but it is what it is. Not bothering to put their capes back on, they threw them over their shoulders, and his arm over her shoulders and her's around his waist; they strolled back to her cottage.

Elenore asked him and begged him to stay the night with her, even dropping to her knees in a futile attempt to arouse his now flaccid cock, but he refused.

"I have sacrificed all to the Oak Gods tonight, and it would be an affront to them if I had held back and still had more," he sighed.

Disappointed and cursing his fundamentalism, she watched him walk down the lane and, with a big sigh, turned to enter her cottage. Elenore didn't ask because she needed more orgasms. She was quite done as well. She wanted and needed that feeling of companionship and connection to the coven and home. Exhausted, she dropped onto her bed naked and fell fast asleep.

>>>>>

"I see you also had an eventful circle fire last night," Cassandra smirked, awakening the sleeping witch.

Groggily, Elenore raised her head, looking at her mother blinking in the light.

"Yes, and you?" she asked her mother politely.

"Quite lovely, indeed. Reginald was in the center and chose me," Cassandra said, blushing.

Elenore knew her mother was somewhat taken by Reginald. He was the only warlock she had even taken a second look at since her father, Marcel, had been killed in the Ogre Battle thirty years ago. It had been a sordid affair of Ogres, thinking they could invade the dimension and steal the Roots of Magic. He had died bravely, but that was a subject she did not want to think about at the moment.

"I have heard that Reginald is quite handsome and... well endowed," Elenore giggled.

The giggling did not sit well with her parent, and Cassandra snapped back, "As does Peter, I have heard you were also chosen."

It wasn't quite the comeback Cassandra expected as Elenore, smirking, said, "Oh, Peter has the most enormous, thickest and longest cock I have ever had the pleasure of being fucked by. It curves just right and touches that inner spot while it bounces off my cervix, and it stretches me so my clit is smashed against..."

"That is quite enough!" Cassandra erupted, her face beet red.

"What, Mother? Is it a little too descriptive or too...titillating? As I understand it, you can be quite the whore on the rock as well," Eleanor laughed.

Cassandra was profoundly embarrassed. She did, indeed, lose all inhibitions and was well known for her sensuality and skills in the arts of lovemaking, not just magic. Although witches, even the older ones, were light years ahead of humans in the freedoms of sex, the younger witches were even more uninhibited. The attempted shaming of Eleanor by her mother was like water rolling off the proverbial duck. The idea that she was totally uninhibited, especially on the rock, was a badge of honor.

"That is no way to speak to your mother," Cassandra angrily retorted. "You should show some respect," she spat, a tear loosed and running down her cheek.

Realizing she perhaps went too far, Elenore cooled and said, "Sorry, you are right. Is there something you wanted?"

Cassandra, her mind schizophrenic, trying to decide whether to cry or scream, stood there trembling.

"Mother, I must confess something," Elenore ventured.

Softening, Cassandra replied, "What?"

"In the dimension, I must be away for three months. It has me worried. The body reshaping spell will need to be on for the entire time, and I almost couldn't make it through the last one, which was only a month. I was so desperate I released it in the public hallway of my condo, and if a cock had been in the hall, I would have fucked it right there," she sighed.

"Well then, don't use it," Cassandra pleaded.

"Now, how would it look if I showed up tomorrow at work fifty pounds lighter with boobs four or five sizes bigger?" she sighed, finally finding the strength to rise to sit, her legs spread and dangling off the bed.

"I could...," Cassandra started.

"NO, Mother, please. We have been over this before. I will be fine," Elenore replied, getting up and hugging her mother.

"You are leaving tonight then?" Cassandra sighed.

"Yes, the spell I put on the work I brought home has been accomplished in the briefcase, and I will need time to cast the reshaping spell," she replied, kissing Cassandra on the lips.

"I will see you then when you return," Cassandra sighed, tears streaming down her face.

They hugged again, and Cassandra reluctantly left.

After her morning routine, Elenore went looking for Peter. She had to have more of that magnificent cock. Elenore found him and convinced him to spend the morning fucking her in the woods. There, she could scream and shriek as much as she wanted without worry of being interrupted. After more orgasms than she could count, they dressed, ate a late lunch at the Inn, and said their goodbyes.

It took Elenore three hours to set the spell and enough power to cause her to need sleep desperately. Nearing midnight, Elenore petted Simon, stripped, and entered naked into the portal of time and space, commonly known as her closet. Stepping through to the other side, she saw her briefcase, where she had dropped it, and the clothes. She picked them up and, avoiding the reflection of the cruel mirrors, climbed into bed, the telltale ache of the spell already beginning to manifest.

>>>>>

It wasn't that Elenore never dated or that she didn't have sex in the dimension of men. The problem was that the quality of the men she attracted was less than desirable because of the distortion of her looks. There was her latest lover, the thirty-year-old Cliff, who was a nerd in the same accounting department, just in receivables, whereas Elenore was in payables. She discovered afterward that she had taken his virginity. However, from his performance, Elenore should readily have guessed that.

Having sex while under the spell did help to defer some of the problems with the spell's effects, but to really alleviate them, she would have had to present as an uninhibited nymphomaniac. Cliff recently proved to be somewhat of a pain in the ass because he seemed to be getting too serious. After unusually having a fourth beer, he even called what they had a relationship. To Elenore, all he did was scratch an itch she had, not as thoroughly as she wanted.

She needed to stay in the human dimension for three months because she had been chosen for an auditing assignment. It would require travel to another state, Hawaii, and you can't just jump in your car and drive to the mainland for a weekend. So, the entire group would be kept there for three months.

Elenore guessed there were worse assignments than an audit in paradise, but the extended length and the inability to remove the spell, not to mention all these gorgeous men, although she wished they were warlocks, that she would have no real chance of sampling, weighed on her mind. It was like being in a candy store with no money. Her only hope was to wrangle a weekend away from the group, but she doubted she could. They were all at the company's expense in the same hotel. Her boss was big on teams and teamwork and would keep the entire group on a tight leash.

What convinced her to go was that it had been announced her boss was going to be promoted, and he was tasked with finding his replacement. Elenore wanted that job. She did not have the seniority, but she had magic and would get it come what may. Elenore planned to prove herself invaluable by doing more and better than anyone else. The entire office knew about it; undoubtedly, some had the same plans, but she had been picked, and she had magic.

Cliffy wasn't coming on the assignment, and she needed another cock. She thought there was no way she could exist for three months without one. Artificial cocks wouldn't do the trick either. They were too sterile. She loved the touch and feel of a real being clenched between her legs, pawing her and doing outrageously erotic things to her. She regretted just thinking about it because it got her worked up, and her "I need a good fucking" meter clicked up a notch.

In fact, to her horror, she found out that there were only going to be two cocks in the entire team. Conrad, a guy who was sixty-two years old, was about to retire, and this was a last dream assignment gift to him. He was married, and the company had allowed him to bring his wife along since they planned to retire together in Hawaii.

This left only her boss, Ralph. Ralph was a company man, short, fat, and dumpy, who was divorced. He often poked and prodded the women in the office but, fortunately, never Elenore. The other four women on the team were Mary, a grandmother; Abigail, another grandmother; Ruth, a religious nut; and Ivy, a woman who looked like she came off an haute couture runway except for her tits which, unlike high-priced fashion models were not tiny but were massive. Every time Elenore was near Ivy, she could almost smell the pheromone scent of wet pussy.

"Perhaps Cassandra was right," she thought. "Maybe I went overboard with the distortion of my body."

Elenore was not about to give up just because of some slight setback. With every battle, one needs a strategy, and to develop a strategy, one needs information. Humans are not particularly hard to figure out for a witch. On the plane flight, Elenore was seated behind Ivy and used that time to begin her quest for information.

Placing most spells is unlike depicted in movies and stories with a bunch of candles and mumbo jumbo. A whispered word or phrase directed with power takes care of it. Like her body-shaping spell, a few require a lot more, but generally, they do not.

Elenore first enveloped Ivy in a sleeping spell so Ivy would be calm and not feel anything that might tip her off that something was happening. The next step was to check recent memories, and Elenore struck pay dirt. Ivy had been fucking Ralph for a couple of weeks. She might have given up here, but Elenore looked beyond the initial memories. Her next step was to tap the corresponding feelings and emotions. Again, she hit pay dirt. Ivy didn't like it much.

Apparently, Ralph had promised her a raise and the possibility of promotion if she put out and a pink slip if she didn't. If Elenore detested Ralph before, she despised him more now, actually feeling sorry for Ivy. Smiling, she also found that Ivy was just stringing him along because she had irons in another fire, a quite handsome fire she was also fucking. Ivy really liked this one, and they had decided that after this assignment, she would quit, and they would marry.

Elenore then determined not only to get her promotion but to rescue this poor Ivy from her fate as well, but how could she do it?

Later that evening in the hotel, Elenore cussed at her luck. The damn hotel room, which was private, and she didn't have to share with anyone, thankfully, on the one hand, seemed to have been a part of a brothel at one time on the other. There were mirrors everywhere, even one on the ceiling over the fucking bed! She was forced to see her misshapen body in disgusting detail and clarity. She quickly abandoned the room to attend the company welcoming dinner and stayed as long as possible.

Elenore noticed Ralph circling like a shark and then came in for the kill with Ivy. The more he drank, the more obnoxious and handsy he became with her. At one point, she tried to resist, but he grabbed her wrist and snarled something Elenore couldn't hear. Ivy then seemed cowed, and within moments, her wrist still clenched in his, Ralph dragged her out of the room.