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.
