Miranda the Witch

Chapter 3: THE SPELL

When we arrived at my house Miranda had decided that I was spending another night with her. She told me so.

I gathered some clothes so that we wouldn't repeat this morning's predicament and she drove me in her car. She was in a good mood. As we ate the take-away meal we'd bought on the way I nerved myself to ask:

"How did you get the spell, Miranda?"

She answered. She must have been pleased with me.

"Well, Joss," she said "Several years ago I did a house clearance. There were a few items of interest but much of the furniture had been badly damaged during the war. Most of it I sold on to other dealers who could use the parts for repairing items. I made a profit, of course. I kept the wreck of an old chest. It was sixteenth century, strapped with iron and studded with nails. The metalwork just held the shattered wood together. It had been crushed by falling masonry when the house was bombed. I thought that I might be able to do something with the metalwork when I acquired some more old wood. I put it in the shed for later use. Some months later I went to the shed in broad daylight. The sun streamed in as I opened the door and shone on the remains of the chest's lid. Just visible through a crack was a corner of parchment. I left it alone then because I had a customer waiting but I was back as soon as I had closed the shop for the day."

She paused. She knew how to extract dramatic effect. She often uses interesting pauses on me.

"I didn't want to damage the chest any more and I wanted that parchment whole. It took hours to gradually dismantle the lid. I realised that the parchment was in what would have been a concealed compartment in the lid. I eased the parchment out with tweezers and covered it from the light. It was still surprisingly strong. I was disappointed because it was obviously only part of a longer document. I was frustrated because I couldn't read it!"

"Why not?" I asked. Miranda was a classical scholar. Latin and Greek were easy for her.

"I found out that it was in medieval French, but poorly spelt and so drastically contracted to be almost unintelligible even to someone who knew the language. The scribe had been so frightened of what he was writing that he made it as difficult as he could to understand."

I could understand that scribe's feelings. If the spell had been used on him, he would be reluctant to pass its power to someone else. He couldn't use it. He could only be its victim.

"There was more writing on the back. Much more modern and in Latin. That I could read. It was a message to the lady's descendants. From memory it read something like this - These spells have given me great pleasure over the years but now I am too old to enjoy the sports of the flesh. Be careful how you use them and remember their limitations. Only a woman can use them. For the change of a man you can only change him into any particular object once. The next time it must be a different object. The object must be for feminine wear only and you must touch the original and the man as you change him into its twin. As soon as the twin ceases to touch your naked flesh it will start to change back into the man and this cannot be stopped until it is complete. This takes about five minutes. Then if you wish you can change him again but to a different object. You can change him back instantly if you say the formula.

To change yourself you must hold the object that has to be an item of feminine apparel. A man must be present in the room. Once changed you can vary the size and shape of the twin object as much as you like. You must use the object on the man. If you have not done so within five minutes or if the man leaves the room you will change back to yourself but slowly. If you want to change back you can do so in an instant just by thinking the formula of words. I have used this spell to hide from my husband. By being concealed as he entered the room, then changing instantly before he saw me, I avoided him. -

That is a paraphrase of it."

Miranda stopped. I was thinking of the implications of what she had told me. Were there any loopholes for me to avoid the spells? So far she had only used the change on me, never the spell that changed herself. Why not? And there was something that Emily had told me about Miranda, years ago. What had Emily said?

"You can imagine," Miranda continued "How anxious I was to be able to read the spells. I copied out the French as best I could and spent weeks in research. That old scribe had done his best to confuse and obscure the meaning but the more I studied the more I realised how my own magic knowledge should be able to help. When I had translated about nine tenths I kicked myself. In my own armoury of spells I had one to translate meaning. I used it when abroad or when foreign dealers came into the shop. It didn't help me to speak another language but it could give me the meaning of what was being said by a foreigner. I tried it on a copy of the parchment and the whole document was as clear as day - except where I'd made a mistake in copying! That evening you came back with me for coffee - the rest you know!"

She laughed. The rest indeed I did know. That evening had been unbelievable. She had transformed me once and enjoyed me all night. Today I had been transformed three times. But why hadn't she used the other spell. I decided to ask.

"Miranda, you've used one spell on me four times, yet you haven't tried the other. Why not?"

"Well, if I got the first spell wrong I could always ask for help from the other witches in my coven. Between us we could probably undo anything that I had done to you. There was a risk but it was slight and as long as I was careful the risk could be minimised. Even if I did get the spell wrong I could pick up the phone and call for help."

"That I can understand. When you changed me into your panties I was worried that the change was permanent. I didn't want to be a pair of panties for the rest of my life."

"But you couldn't express your fears, could you, Joss? As a pair of panties you couldn't speak."

"No. All I could do was move, and that took effort and practice."

"OK." said Miranda "Now suppose I used the second spell and it went wrong - then what? I wouldn't be able to call for help and you wouldn't know who to ask, would you?"

"No. Before last night I'd no idea you were a witch and I wouldn't know where to find another one. They don't advertise in Yellow Pages."

"No we don't. So I'm leaving that spell alone until I have some competent help present. When the coven next meets I'll discuss it with them."

"When do they meet?"

"Next full moon - Oops! I shouldn't have said that. Forget it, Joss, please! I'm not supposed to talk about the coven to uninitiates and you are certainly uninitiated."

"I don't know. There is some general knowledge about witches and covens. I'd have guessed that you met on the night of the full moon, that there are thirteen of you, and on the major events you meet `sky-clad' or naked."

"You do know something, then. What sort of witch do you think I am?"

"Well, I think that you are probably a white witch. I don't think I'd be in love with you if you were into Black Magic."

That earned me a hug.

Emboldened I went on "I think that your particular skills relate to things, not to people. You can "magic" objects."

Another hug, with a kiss this time.

"I can't say any more until you have been initiated."

"Can I be? I can't be a witch, surely?"

"No!" Miranda laughed "But you might be a wizard. The way that you have begun to manipulate yourself when you are transformed makes me think that you may have some power of your own."

We left it at that. Miranda was reluctant to say any more. We changed the subject.

"What about the transformation spell?" I asked. "What are its limitations?"

"I have only the note on the back of the parchment to guide me. We could experiment if you are willing to trust me." Miranda looked hopefully at me.

"OK. You can try. But not too many times. I don't want you running out of power and leaving me stuck as an unlikely object."

"How about three tries before going to bed?" she asked.

"Yes. But only three. No extras."

I'd missed the point of her words. I'd agreed to three times BEFORE going to bed. That left her free to transform me as many times as she wanted AFTER going to bed. Some day I'll learn to be as sneaky and literal minded as she is or else I'll suffer for it.

"I'd like to try one I've done before just to see if the note is right. How about the glove?"

"OK." I said without enthusiasm. A glove wasn't exactly what I'd choose to be.

Miranda rummaged in her handbag and retrieved the pair.

"Now which were you last time? The left or the right? I can't remember. Can you?"

"The right, I think. I'm not sure. Even you confused us."

"So I did." Miranda laughed. "Then I had hold of you naked across my lap! Oh well - I'll try changing you into the right glove."

She held my hand, held the glove and said the spell out loud.

Nothing happened. I stayed untransformed.

"So you were the right glove. I'll try the left."

She repeated the process. Still nothing happened.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed, "Perhaps a pair counts as one. I'll try another pair of gloves."

She went out into the hall and came back with a pair of formal above elbow length evening gloves. They were much more glamorous than the ordinary pair.

"Now - If a pair counts as one, perhaps you can become both gloves. We'll try that."

Before I could protest that I didn't want to be split in two I felt the transformation begin. Then I was a pair of gloves. Miranda pulled me up her arms and buttoned me up. It was an effort to do the second one with her gloved hand.

I assessed my position. Although I was in two pieces I felt complete. Miranda's fingers and arms were inside me. Her hands were smooth as were her arms. Definitely not dishpan hands.

Could I move? I tried with the left glove first. I could! I thought that gloves might have possibilities. I moved both sets of fingers even though Miranda was resisting. Then I tried harder. I'd get back at her for turning me into things. I lunged for her breasts and squeezed them hard.

"Joss!" yelled Miranda "That's not fair!"

I was learning how to use my muscles when transformed. Each time was easier than the last. So...

I caressed her breasts and gently pinched her nipples. I could detect Miranda's resistance but brushed it aside. She started to protest so I gagged her with the left glove. That would show her!

Then I realised what power I had. She couldn't change me back unless she could speak. Gagged as she was she couldn't say the spell. She couldn't pull the glove away because I controlled her hands. I wouldn't change back unless I lost contact with her skin. That was unlikely with the gloves buttoned up above her elbows. I had one hand free to do whatever I wanted. So what did I want to do?

I unhooked and unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground. Miranda was wriggling and jiggling as much as she could.

With difficulty I unbuttoned her blouse. That gave me more room to play with her breasts. It was a shame I could only use one hand but that hand roamed over her bra. I tried to unhook it but that was beyond me. I could and did push it up so that her breasts were exposed. I stroked, squeezed, lightly pinched and caressed her breasts one after the other. Then I slowly ran my glove down her past her navel to the top of her panties. I slid my fingers down then...

The transformation began to reverse. I was wrenched about and very quickly became myself again.

When I was nearly normal Miranda slapped my face hard.

"Joss! That was going too far!"

"Why?" I asked indignantly. "You didn't object when I was a skirt!"

"That was different. I could always have taken you off. But you were using my hands to play with me. Then when you gagged me you were trying to control me. I'm the one doing the controlling - NOT you. You need to learn your place."

Miranda was calming down. I think I'd actually frightened her when I gagged her.

"How did you change me back?" I asked.

"That was easy. I can use the other spell just by thinking its words. I thought that I could do the same with this spell. I could but it took me some time because I was angry and I'll admit it - frightened. I wasn't sure how far you would go if you knew I couldn't change you. I was not in control of my own hands or body - you were. That is really scary if you are not totally sure about the other person."

"Surely you know that I wouldn't hurt you. I love you!" I protested.

"I know." Miranda hugged me "But we've only been together for 24 hours. That isn't long if you are trusting your life to another. I think I know that you wouldn't hurt me but in the heat of the moment I was very, very scared. I was even more scared when I couldn't think the words of the spell. You were distracting me!"

"I should hope I was! If you aren't distracted when I'm playing with your breasts and trying to get inside your panties then I'd think that there was something wrong with you."

"It didn't feel right because you were doing it with my hands. I'd lost control of them. If you had been empty gloves then I think I wouldn't have minded but you were using my arms, my hands and my fingers."

Chapter 4: Retaliation

Miranda was nearly back to normal after my use of her gloves but she had a glint in her eye that I was wary about. I was sure that she'd get back at me for scaring her. I tried to divert her.

"How about trying another change. We've agreed to do three and that was one. I'll be good next time."

"You'd better be - or else..." Miranda retorted. "Now what shall you be?" She looked around the room and then stood up.

"I'll go to find something suitable. Will you trust me to choose?"

"I suppose that I'll have to. Please be careful."

She left without giving me any assurances. She was back in seconds.

"Joss! We haven't washed up! Come on! I'll wash, you can dry."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me up. Still holding my hand she led me into the kitchen.

"It isn't as neat and tidy as yours," she said "but I think that I use mine more." She picked up an apron from the work surface as we went towards the sink. She pointed with the hand holding the apron. "The tea towels are over there."

As she said 'over there' I felt myself changing. She'd tricked me again. She'd thought the spell was she was still talking. I was turning into an apron!

I examined myself. I was a short blue gingham apron. Just an ordinary apron. No frills, no lace - just a useful kitchen aid.

Miranda wrapped me across her front and tucked my ties into the waistband of her skirt against her skin. She hadn't tied me behind her, just loosely tucked me in. What could I do? I couldn't tie myself round her waist; I couldn't hold her tightly. I was too short to reach any part of her that could arouse her. I was just a feminine object. I decided that this might be part of her revenge so I just relaxed and let her do whatever she wanted.

Apparently she just wanted to wash up. She washed the dishes, stacked them on the drainer, and then wiped her hands on me. Then I felt the change again.

"Come on, Joss! I've washed up now you dry!"

As soon as I was my normal shape again I did as I was told.

"Did you like being an apron, Joss?"

"It was rather boring. All I saw was the edge of the sink and then I got damp when you dried yourself."

"I was showing you how powerless you can be. Did you like my choice of apron?"

"It was ordinary. Just a basic apron."

Miranda went to a kitchen drawer and rummaged in it.

"Would you have liked to be this one?"

She held up a traditional but large French Maid's apron - white, trimmed with lace and with long frilled ties at the back.

"Or this one?"

This was a Victorian style full length apron, large skirted, bib fronted with frilled shoulders and had cross-over ties from the shoulder to the waist. I nodded.

"We'll see, Joss." she said. "I'm not sure that I'd trust you with that much material to play with. Hold your arms up, please."

As I lifted my arms, she waved her hands and the Victorian apron flew towards me. It fitted over my head, wrapped round my waist and the back ties gently wrapped round my wrists. I resisted briefly before my wrists were crossed behind my back and tied. The apron's skirt, large enough to cover a crinoline, wound round my legs. I was held firmly as Miranda came towards me holding the ordinary gingham apron. She folded it and gagged me with it. No witchcraft in that gag, just efficient use of material.

The apron's skirt made me walk into the living room and sit down on that computer-controlled settee. Miranda followed muttering under her breath as she controlled my movements. Then she went to the switch panel on the settee and lifted out a remote control. She pressed a couple of buttons that made 'arms' grab my ankles and waist. As they did so the apron's skirt released my legs and flipped up, over my body and to my head where it wrapped its hem tightly around my face. I was pinned, gagged and now blindfolded! I struggled futilely to release my hands but they were wrapped too securely in the apron's back ties.

"Now I show you some of the other uses of this settee," Miranda said. She seemed quietly determined, not angry. My use of the gloves must have annoyed her more than I thought.

Suddenly two more 'hands' grabbed at me. I thought that they were from the settee again but this time they were Miranda's. She unzipped my trousers and pulled them and my y-fronts down to my ankles. Then I didn't know what was happening. I heard Miranda move away but my cock was caressed and slid inside a warm slit. It seemed just like Miranda but it wasn't! Was there another woman in the room? I had only heard Miranda. The muscles contracted around my erection and forced me further inside. Through my gag and blindfold I was panting for breath as I was massaged to orgasm. Who was doing it?

As I relaxed the apron's skirt loosened from my face and dropped to my shoulders. I could look down. I saw that my cock was inside a shiny metal bowl attached to a metallic arm. Inside the bowl pulsating muscles were still gently holding my cock - but they weren't muscles - it was a mechanical device! I had been brought to orgasm by a machine.

Miranda looked at me from her seat across the room.

"That was my revenge for what you did with the gloves. It is supposed to be designed to behave just as if you were inside me. Did it?"

I couldn't speak because I was still gagged. I nodded.

"Good. I'm glad it works as advertised. I suppose I could ungag you now."

She walked towards me, still clutching the remote control. As she removed the gag the metal bowl poised itself and then dropped down covering my mouth and nose. My eyes opened wide in surprise as I felt myself being face-sat by Miranda. Even though I knew it was NOT her every sensation except sight was identical.

After a few seconds Miranda released the device from my face.

"Was that like me?" she asked.

"Yes!" I gasped. "If I hadn't been able to see what it was I'd have been convinced that you were doing it."

"I was!" Miranda laughed waving the remote "With a little help from electronics."

The settee's arms slid back out of sight. Miranda sat down beside me. As she did the apron untied itself and released me. Miranda pulled it away and looked at my flaccid tool.

"I didn't enjoy that as much as I could have but I wanted to retaliate. Now I need to talk to you. Pull your trousers up."

Chapter 5: Revelations

As I dressed myself and I was greeted by a lingering kiss.

"I've told you that I'm a witch." Miranda sounded serious.