I Married a Witch - Locktober

One of the nice things about posting in this category is that it is obviously fantasy. So reality is suspended. Please comment and vote if you would like to see further adventures of Phoebe and Stu.

I married a witch.

Not an old crone.

A magnificently beautiful, voluptuous, sensual and seductive witch with incredible powers and an ingenious imagination about how to use them. Phoebe has it all, and on top of all that, she loves little ol' me.

One of the many things I soon discovered, is that October is incredibly busy for a witch! Aside from parties and craven adventures, there are many committees and planning sessions, and many secret rituals she cannot even tell me about. Halloween evidently takes a great deal of preparation for those living in the magical realm. When you choose to cross realms with a mortal, it is even more complicated.

We soon discovered that I was mostly underfoot for that month. There were some events I could be involved in, so she did not want me permanently away, but she needed something for me to do. I do not work since we got married... when you can conjure up anything you need, including cash, employment is merely a cover.

After our third year of marriage (and three years of dating before that) Phoebe suggested something had to be done. And as usual she had a creative and adventurous solution.

It was late September and we had just finished making love, we were cuddled in bed.

I am blessed in the physique department. Not muscles upon muscles like a body builder, but muscular, well-toned and tanned. I am 6'3", and I was also gifted with a very respectable manhood... long and very thick. That is all me. Coupled with what Phoebe calls "Clark Gable charm" I was able to attract someone who could have quite literally had anyone she wanted.

So, that is all me. What is not all me, but magic bestowed upon me by my woman, is the fact I no longer have to work out or watch what I eat to maintain it. And more... my originally decent stamina has been enhanced.

For instance, in our just completed session, I made love to my insatiable bride for well over an hour. She has cast a spell on me... I quite literally cannot orgasm until she speaks the incantation to allow it. I could not translate it if I wanted to, and if not in her voice, it does not work anyway. Oddly enough, I LOVE this. The sexual tension, arousal, the NEED continuously rises. And I never, ever have to wonder whether I lasted long enough to satisfy her. When she does let me cum, after so much build up and anticipation, after she has cum multiple times, my orgasm is unbelievably intense. It lasts for much longer than normal, sometimes equating to a male multiple orgasm.

So... we were cuddled together after one of these experiences, finally having caught our breath.

Phoebe regarded me with that twinkle in her eye, "I have an idea..."

Any married man knows these are the most dangerous words he will ever hear his wife speak. But for me it had proven more so.

I laughed nervously yet conspiratorially. I trust her. "Uh-oh..."

She laughed, "You told me that you played with chastity with Connie, right?"

Connie being my mere mortal first wife. And of course I had told her. Why? There are no secrets from a witch. Honesty is the best policy. So we had discussed chastity at length and in-depth, although Phoebe and I had not tried it. Yet. I nodded.

"So, for people who are serious about chastity, October is as special a month as it is to those of us in my world, right? Just for different reasons..."

As dense as I was, I still intuited where this was going. "L-l-october" I stammered, "where the guy is locked up the entire month... you want to lock me up for October?"

She traced her fingertip along my cock, which was showing signs of life again already due to the subject matter. I am a perv. I had enjoyed chastity play.

"Not exactly what I had in mind. Though it is nice to see little Stu likes the idea."

"You have already done the chastity thing. I was wondering if you might want to try the opposite..."

I was curious. "The opposite?"

"You have an incredible body, and great charm. Would you like being the BULL?"

I stammered, "You want me to be a bull to you?"

She laughed, "Of course not, silly."

Stroking my hardening manhood, she spoke.

"I was thinking about giving you a hall pass for Locktober. Me and my sisters can tell when someone is locked up. So... all those wives would be susceptible to a stud like you. It would keep you busy, but not so busy I could not take your time when I needed it."

When Phoebe referred to her sisters, I knew she meant witches in general, not her actual sisters. I also knew there had to be a catch. She was a witch, but she WAS also a woman. She was jealous of my attentions.

"You want me to bed other women? For a whole month? What's the catch?"

She looked at me slyly. It was obvious I was on track. But it was also obvious she was not going to share her plot entirely.

"Well, I don't mind sharing with the needy populace... but the consequences of your adventure are a surprise. You DO trust me, right?"

Fuck. I knew there would be consequences. I was certain I would regret them. But I did trust her. Whatever they may be may be difficult, but I did trust her.

"Starting October 1st, my sisters and I will choose women for you to... umm... pleasure. You will pick one, and your job is to make them... happy. Your goal is to make a woman happy each of the 31 days of October..."

I knew that "no" was not really an option. I had married a witch, after all. I had, though, married a "good" witch. She may be devious, demented, and delightful, but she loved me.

"Yes, ma'am. I am all in. What about your incantation for me to cum?" I was still looking for the catch. Without her there to release me, would I be fucking myself silly for a month with no orgasm? If that was what she chose, I would comply... frustratingly... but I would.

She grinned, knowingly. "That will be... suspended for the month. You will have to rely upon your own... significant... stamina."

Wow. This was too good to be true. Was I really being given free reign? I could happily stay loyal to the incredible Wiccan goddess I had married. I love her, I love her body, the way she feels, the way she tastes. I have variety with her... she likes to shape-shift into different women occasionally just to keep things interesting. But I am a male. The women I saw at the store, on the internet, and on TV all beckoned me.

"Okay... if you insist..." Hesitant. Not wanting to appear too eager. Was this a test?

She laughed again, seeing through my pretense at disinterest in her plot. "Yay! This is going to be fun! Remember, one a day keeps the consequences away..."

She leaned down and took my now fully tumescent shaft into her mouth greedily. OMG her abilities as a fellatrix are... magical. She has no problem taking my long, thick member completely down her throat and sending undulating sensations along its length by swallowing repeatedly. At the same time closing her lips over me and using her tongue to lash at me.

If she chose, she could have easily taken me over the edge in seconds, even with my stamina. But she never did. She loved giving head, so she always took her time and dragged it out, edging me repeatedly before lifting off of me long enough to speak the incantation, then plunging back down to accept the gift of my release. I am truly blessed.

In the next few days, Phoebe put her plan out to "her sisters." No, there is not some witchy worldwide communication system. Unless you consider social media groups openly saying they are witches to be such. There are many such groups, some occupied by mortals who want to be witches, and some by actual witches. Believers know, non-believers simply roll their eyes. Out in the open yet perfectly safe.

So it was that just after midnight on October 1st, Phoebe's inboxes began to fill up with prospects. For you "normies" out there, you have no idea how many padlocks were snapping shut all over the world. We "freaks" are more numerous than can imagine.

Phoebe and me are night owls anyway. But she had specifically wanted to stay up to the witching hour because she expected this response.

We had spent the afternoon and evening making love. She said she may have me go down on her occasionally throughout October, but she expected to be too busy for any extended love-making sessions. So she wanted one last hurrah before the dry spell.

She lay in bed with her tablet propped on her knees, reviewing the potential conquests she had been sent. Each correspondence included descriptions, sometimes images, of the woman and her husband. Many included profiles on the people, what they did for a living, how much they were into chastity, etc. The last detail was important. Were they fully committed? In a Female Led Relationship? Were they newbies? Or had she simply locked him up to shut him the hell up? Or to get a respite from his pathetic humping attempts at fucking her? Had she already cuckolded him? If she had, did he know that? Or was she committed to being monogamous? The last thing Phoebe wanted was to break up marriages. That would not be "fun" it would be cruel.

As she read, she began to become aroused again. This whole thing was erotic, and seeing the bios on these people gave her even more ideas. I had been laying beside her, trying to look also. This was fascinating.

But she had other ideas. Her delectable pussy was full of my cum, and her clitoris was asking for attention. Without looking away from the screen, she placed a hand on top of my head and gently pushed me downward. I did not have to be told. I crawled between her thighs and began eating her creampie before tonguing her to several orgasms while she selected my first "target."

I could not know it, but my beautiful, intelligent, supernaturally efficient wife had selected my first fifteen targets and put them on a spreadsheet by the time she let me up. Between orgasms.

When I lay beside her again, I asked, "So. Who is my first challenge?"

She snickered. "Oh, hell no. I'm not making it that easy. You get zero intel. At noon, I will place you in proximity to her. YOU have to figure out who she is, then seduce her before the day is out. You have to be home to me by 1 AM sweetie, in case I need lovin' after my busy day."

Damn. She was going to make it difficult. I did not really understand why. But she did.

In my minimalist mortal mind, I expected to drive across town. At noon we were standing in the kitchen when she asked, "Ready?"

"Umm... yes, ma'am?"

She leaned in and kissed me. As a matter of habit, I closed my eyes and returned the kiss.

When I opened them, I was standing in a small coffee shop in a major city somewhere. Chicago? New York? A young woman behind the counter asked, "What would you like, mister?"

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. Was she the one? "Um, I uh... hot and black... and a jalapeño sausage roll."

No, she probably was not the one. She was attractive, but she was young. Not under age, but certainly not who I would expect Phoebe to choose for me... neon green and pink hair, nose and eyebrow piercings.

I took my food and coffee, found a table, and sat. I figured I would people watch. There were several women in the shop, but I wasn't picking up on any vibes. What appeared to be business women with their hubbies, a couple of teens. Nope.

After about forty-five minutes of people coming and going, I was beginning to think I had missed whoever it was. Damn.

Then a very hot, very black, well-dressed woman entered the shop. She exuded sensuality... I became erect just looking at her. She approached the counter, and the girl recited her order without it being spoken. "Hot and black, jalapeño sausage roll?"

Well. That should be a hint. My wife sure could pick 'em.

The woman collected her order, looked around, and walked directly to my table. "Do you mind some company, sir?"

"Certainly, ma'am. Please." I stood quickly to pull her chair back for her.

After sipping her coffee, she made no pretense as she looked me up and down, taking in my musculature and my cleanliness. "You are not from around here, are you?"

"No, ma'am."

She did not seem to appreciate my abbreviated response. "Gonna be here long?"

"No, ma'am. Just til tomorrow."

She sipped her coffee, finished her food, making small talk. She was very... assertive. "There are few option around here. I would like to take you home and fuck your brains out. Are you up for that?"

Well. Phoebe had certainly made the first "conquest" easy. I felt like the conquest, not the conqueror.

"Abso-fucking-lutely, ma'am."

"Do not curse. It is crass. My husband will be there, but he will not be a problem. Are you okay with that? Are you disease free?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She finished her coffee. "Let us go, then. What is your name?"

"Stuart, ma'am. Or Stu, if you like."

"What does your wife call you?"

How the hell did she know I was married? Was she in the habit of bedding married men? Was she one of Phoebe's "sisters" and knew what I was doing? The question was in my eyes as I replied with Phoebe's name for me.

She smiled back, "Stu. I like that. I shall call you Stu also. As to your unasked question, you have a suntan line on your ring finger. That means you are married, and fucking around on the misses. Or does she know?"

"Um... she knows."

"Even better. No guilt makes it so much better." She put her arm through mine and led me out.

I did not ask any questions about her disease status, or her marital relationship. I knew Phoebe would have vetted her thoroughly. I felt safe, as random as this may appear to the woman.

She guided us to a very expensive high rise building. A security guard nodded as we walked in, obviously he knew her. The elevator ride to the eightieth floor, the penthouse, seemed to take forever. I did ask what I should call her, expecting a name.

She seemed to contemplate. "I think ma'am will do, Stu." This subtly made it obvious who was in charge.

"Yes, ma'am."

We entered an expansive suite. I was impressed, ma'am apparently was loaded. Without pretense, she guided me straight to the bedroom. Evidently I would serve one purpose. I thought, if she pays me, it will be official that I am a whore.

I was a bit taken aback when we entered the bedroom. It was a large boudoir, one side entirely open with windows, the curtains drawn back. If there were any buildings nearby as tall as hers, our activities would have been free entertainment, as anyone would see in.

They would also have seen the naked caucasian man about my age secured to a sturdy X-frame. He was in good physical shape, I cannot tell you how big his penis was, because it was confined in a small steel chastity cage.

Yep. I had the right place.

She removed her clothing herself without ceremony, "Stu, meet my husband, Tommy. Tommy, meet Stu."

His penis was obviously straining against its prison, and had been for sometime. But he was quite calm, "Hello, Stu. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, also, Tommy. You okay with this?"

She interrupted before he could reply, stating curtly, "It does not matter whether he is okay with it or not. It is happening, unless you do not want this." She indicated her now nude form, which was magnificent. Thicc without a hint of fat, large round breasts, a butt to kill for, and an already moist shaven sex.

He nodded as I said, "Wow. Oh, I want you, ma'am."

She approached me, turning so that my back was to her restrained husband, who was elevated several feet above the floor.

She unbuttoned my shirt and removed it, baring my upper body. She smiled approvingly. She had me remove my shoes and socks, then unfastened my trousers and pulled them down. She then removed them.

All that was left were my boxers. She traced her fingers lightly over the exposed portions of my body as if savoring it. Then she pulled my boxers down to my ankles.

My member hung flaccid, thick and heavy between my thighs. I had focused a great deal to resist her charms, wanting her to see it this way first.

She spoke softly, "OMFG. Tommy, you are not going to believe this. FUCK."

Tommy groaned, "I can see it from here. Jeezus." I knew all he could see was part of the shaft and head from behind. But I suppose that gave him an idea of the rest.

I could not help but derive some satisfaction at having caused her to violate her own admonition against "crass cursing."

She looked up into my eyes, "I apologize for my language. It's just that I thought all white boys were like Tommy. I have never seen a dick this big before."

I am well-endowed. But the fact I am clean shaven, including no pubic patch, make him appear even larger. And a flat stomach also enhances him. Still. I realized it seemed like a monster compared to her husband. I did not know what size he was, but I knew mine would never compress enough to fit into a cage that small.

She pulled my boxers completely off. She guided me to make a half turn so my body was now in silhouette for Tommy.

His eyes widened but he remained silent.

She traced the outline of my member in fascination. Then she began to fellate me. She wanted to see and feel my erection, but she also wanted to torment her husband with it.

She was good. But of course without the supernatural abilities of a witch, she was not Phoebe good. It was okay. She was not trying to finish me, anyway. I stopped concentrating on resistance and soon my erection stood tall and proud.

Long and very thick, with a dramatically flared, spongy head. Testicles to match.

They both stared at it, almost scared.

She giggled in anticipation, "My word, Tommy, he is about to fuck me silly with it."

Tommy knew it was going to happen. He was not pleading with her not to, but he stammered his thoughts, "He... he is gonna ruin you for me... you will never be able to feel me again..."

I wanted to reassure him. Yes, she would be stretched much more than he had ever been able to, or would. I would touch her in places he never could. But Tommy, my man, that is not how a woman's body works. She would miss my length and girth, the fullness, but her body would return to its normalcy and she would of course feel you.

But I did not say so. She knew this better than I, she was a woman. However this was her game. I would let her tell him.

She stroked me lovingly, "You are correct, husband. But you wanted this, it was your idea. So you will have to live with the consequences. I am going to need men like Stu now."

She stood and placed my hands on her breasts. I tenderly caressed them, cupping them and flicking her nipples.

She sighed in pleasure then spoke, "I have never had a man like you. I want you, but I do not wish to be hurt. You obviously have deflowered girls like me before. What would you suggest?" The uber-confident woman was gone, and I now stood before a timid "girl" who felt virginal... I was going to deflower her.

I leaned down and kissed her plush lips long, deep and lovingly, trying to convey irresistible passion while squeezing her gams forcefully, but not painfully.

She swooned.

I leaned close to her ear opposite her husband and spoke softly so he could not hear. "I think it would be safest if I lay on the bed. Then you should mount me, so you control the rate that you impale yourself on me... you should take your time, let yourself adjust to me. Do it in reverse cowgirl, so Tommy has to watch it all. It may take time."

I think her knees weakened at the thought, because she fell into me, grasping my biceps for support. I moved one hand down to her genitalia, trapping her clit between to of my fingers. She was completely soaked... slippery between my grip. She gasped.