The Liar, the Witch, and My Wife's New Wardrobe: Books 1 to 3 Collection

by Charles P. Lingham

The problem was that, here it was just nine days into the curse, and she'd already caved. My wife, who had never once, in our entire relationship, had anything approaching a sex drive. Who regularly turned me down for sex. Who had only masturbated a handful of times in her entire life, had broken down, consumed by lust.

  Twice. In the past twelve hours no less!

  I'd helped her out both times and, although I had somehow been affected by the pheromones her cock had been giving off, it was still one of the revolting things I'd ever had to do, even though my own body told me otherwise. I didn't want to have to do it again, but… well, I couldn't just abandon Donna.

  I was coming to realize that it was my matrimonial duty to continue to get her off. But only to a point. I will have to talk to her frankly today. I will lay down the law with her and tell her that I will help her out, but I absolutely draw the line at hand jobs. If she makes the slightest suggestion about me putting that thing in my mouth—or anywhere else for that matter—then I am definitely out of here!

  After my shower, I threw on some track pants and a t-shirt, and went upstairs to find Donna in the kitchen. She had also showered, and was dressed in a loose-fitting bath robe with her hair up in a towel. I was a little stand-offish and she must have picked up on it.

  "Want a coffee?" she asked me gently, holding out an empty mug.

  "Thanks," I responded quietly. I took the proffered mug, and poured coffee into it as she sat down at the kitchen table. After I stirred in some cream and sugar, I joined her at the kitchen table.

  She sipped from her mug as she looked at me. Her eyes were soft, the way they always used to be. Any trace of the domineering she-male from earlier was gone. I relaxed.

  "So…" she said.

  "Yeah, I know," I answered.

  She smiled. "Listen, about earlier," she started. "I wasn't … well, I wasn't quite myself."

  I laughed sardonically and sipped some of my coffee.

  "I want you to know that I'm still angry at you," she continued. "But… well, we have to come to some kind of agreement. I need your help. When this … thing … takes over, it's like I'm in heat or something. It's like there's a second personality that comes forward. One that's dominant. One that wants to be in control of you as well as me."

  I swallowed hard.

  "Most of the time, like now for instance, I can control this other part of me even though … well, there's no easy way to say this, but I'm always horny now. Almost always hard. It's just not always as bad as it was last night and this morning. If I let the horniness build up too long, well, then the beast that's inside me takes over." My wife seemed to flush as she said this, and I could hear that she was breathing a little heavier than before. "Fuck! I'm getting aroused just talking about it!"

  I let her compose herself a little and didn't say anything.

  She took a deep calming breath and continued. "There's more going on here than just the … new … um, penis. It’s like it gives off pheromones or something, and I've seen the way you respond to the smell."

  I blushed at her mention of it, and tried to hide my reaction by drinking more coffee.

  "Well, those pheromones affect me too. It seems to make that other part of me stronger somehow. The smell goes straight to my brain, and lets the beast out. When I'm like that, I know things that I never knew before. I know for example that you will do anything that I tell you to do. I know that you're in some kind of suggestible state."

  She took another deep breath.

  "Donna…" I interrupted, concerned.

  She held up a hand. "No, I'm OK," she replied. "The beast unlocks my dominant nature, but it also puts thoughts in my head. It's like being tempted by the Dark Side. It's like Anatolia said on the phone the other day, it gives me appetites. Desires. It makes me want to do things. It makes me want to make you do things."

  "I know," I said.

  "I figured you did. This morning, all I wanted to do was tell you to… to…" She broke off, breathing heavily again. "Hell, I can't even say it without the risk of losing control. I'm throbbing hard right now, and I can feel my juices flowing in two places."

  After a few calming breaths, she was able to continue. "I need you Randy. I need you to work with me. If you can help me relieve the tension whenever it's just beginning to ramp up, then we should be able to keep the beast at bay. I promise that I will do everything I can to control this beast.” She looked me right in the eye, an indication that she was about to deliver her trump card. “In return though, I need regular hand jobs from you."

  I shifted my gaze, staring into my coffee cup for a time. Finally, I looked back up. "You read my mind," I admitted. "I was thinking the very same thing earlier. I know that this is my fault, and I'm sorry for putting you through this." I took a deep breath before continuing. "I'll get you off whenever you need it." She visibly relaxed, exhaling loudly. "But I draw the line at blow jobs! I'm not gay. And don't try and control me again…"

  She stood up and walked over to me with her arm extended. "Deal," she said. I took her hand in mine and shook it. Then, we both looked down at the immense bulge that was tenting her bathrobe. The implication was obvious.

  I sighed. "But you just came."

  She was actually kind of sheepish about it. "I know,” she said, sweeping a lock of her hair behind her ear, “but all this talk has kinda worked me up. Would you mind?"

  I knew I couldn't very well say no, especially after our discussion just now. It's just that, well, each of the previous experiences happened when I was under the influence of some kind of drug my wife was secreting. If I did it now of my own volition, then I was one step closer to doing it willingly. Still, if I didn't do it, then the beast that Donna referred to might eventually appear and compel me to do something worse. Helping her out was definitely the lesser of two evils.

  "Fine," I said through a forced smile. "Let's go upstairs to the bed."

  She nodded her head, turned on her heel, and practically sprinted up the stairs.

  If she'd shown this enthusiasm for sex before I tried to cheat on her…

  I took a final sip of my coffee, and walked after my wife. When I got upstairs, Donna was already in our bedroom. She had taken the towel off her head, and was now laying face-up on the bed, patting the comforter invitingly beside her. As I lay down, I realized that we were both very nervous, like it was our first time all over again—and it kinda was. She was also breathing raggedly already, clearly very horny. Again.

  Good. Hopefully that means that this won't take long.

  I reached down with my right hand and pulled her robe off her cock. Her dick sprung free immediately, pivoting quickly to stand proudly erect.

  "Ohhhhhhhh," Donna said, in response to what I could only assume was the feel of air on the sensitive skin of her newly exposed cock.

  My eyes locked with Donna’s for a moment. Before I continued, I wanted to see who was in charge. She met my gaze with one that was filled with lust, but also a measure of shyness. It wasn't an expression that wanted to control me, it was one that simply wanted my help. I could live with that.

  At the same time, both of our gazes drifted south to Donna's fully engorged cock that, even now, towered imperiously out of the fold of her bathrobe. It was already twitching in anticipation of the coming attention, seemingly oblivious to the two orgasms that it had already had in the last twelve hours alone. I could see and smell her pre-cum as it dribbled out of the tip, weeping down the shaft like drips of wax from a candle.

  I blinked a few times as the pheromones hit my brain and could feel a tingling in my balls, signaling that my own body had begun to react. Donna had sensed it as well. She was also taking a deep breath and moaning in response. She was running her hands up and down her torso, and had even spread her legs a little.

  Now was the time to act—just in case the smell brought out her beast. Very gently, I gripped her cock mid shaft, and lightly pulled up towards the head. As before, my wife reacted immediately, moaning out loud w
hile her cock lurched and spit out some brackish liquid onto the back of my hand.

  I began to stroke my wife's cock a little more vigorously now, even as I examined it. This was actually my first real chance to explore her new anatomy. I mean, I'd already been introduced to her cock and balls, but hadn't really been able to examine anything beyond that, mostly because my mind had been preoccupied with other things.

  Her pubic hair was as thick and loosely curled as it had been before, and was localized above her penis, not on her testicles (which was a relief because, somehow, the very thought of her having hairy balls was somehow even more revolting.) What's more, just beneath those testicles, I could see, as I had discovered earlier this morning, that she still had her vulva, making her a true hermaphrodite. This is what my wife had meant earlier when she said that she was wet in two places. She wasn't kidding either. A different, more familiar kind of wetness was seeping out from between her thighs even now, and soaking the bath robe beneath her. Even this was more lubrication than she usually produced. Her body truly was in heat.

  Nowhere was this more obvious than with the thick wang that I was currently stimulating. Rivulets of Donna's thick pre-cum were streaming down the side of her dick and lubricating my stroking fingers. The smell was getting stronger too, making me feel even more lightheaded and aroused. Donna was panting openly now, indicating that she was also similarly affected. Spreading her legs even further, she started squirming on the bed and thrusting her hips up to meet the up and down motion of my hand.

  "Oh Randy," she moaned. "I can feel the lust coursing through me. I know you can feel it too. I'm trying to control myself, but I'm on fire…"

  I put a finger to her lips. "Shhhhhh," I said. "Let me take care of you."

  It seemed that just hearing my voice, and knowing that I was willing to help her out with her burden, was all she really needed to finally push her over the edge. I watched as her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth opened to emit a guttural, gurgling sigh. Then all at once she was screaming out and grabbing my wrist so that she could hold it in place as she began to repeatedly thrust her hips forward, fucking my hand in the process. I kept pumping her cock anyhow and, within moments, she ejaculated all over her own chest forcefully enough to hit herself in her chin a few times.

  As my wife climaxed, I was once again surprised by my own corresponding physical reaction. Just like the last two times, my body orgasmed in time with Donna's, even though I hadn't even noticed it building. Grunting, I thrust my hips reflexively to maximize the friction between my spurting cock and my track pants, as I unloaded more cum into them.

  Donna's orgasm wasn't as drawn out or as explosive as had been her last two, and it ended just moments before my own did. As she collapsed back into the mattress, I also couldn't help but notice that her post-orgasmic reaction was different this time as well. Rather than being upset like both of the other times, the expression on Donna's face was one of pure joy.

  "Thank you, Randy," she said, slurring her words like a drunk woman. "Twas purrrfect."

  Watching her drift off to sleep, I was left wondering the implications of my body's recent insistence that it have a mutual orgasm in time with my wife. That's when I noticed that I was still gripping her shrinking cock. Slowly, I pulled my hand away, and got up to get some towels to clean up.

  back to top

  DAY 12

  WEDNESDAY

  It's hard to believe, but our new life—one where my wife has a new, very needy cock—has become rather routine. It's been three days since our agreement, and I'm pleased that things are going as well as they are.

  Now, don't get me wrong. It's not that I like her having a dick, it's just that, well, if milking that thing regularly will keep Donna's new dominant personality at bay, then it's worth it.

  Anatolia wasn't kidding when she said that Donna’s lust would put a teenaged boy's libido to shame. That fucking dick of hers is hard, and begging for some kind of attention, at least three, sometimes four times a day! To make matters worse, even though I'm not in the least bit horny myself ahead of time, I'm still cumming in time with that monster. It's almost as if it were controlling my orgasms. I'm also starting to wonder if Anatolia cast some kind of spell on me too when I wasn't looking, because I'm still ejaculating quite a bit each time, even though I should be more than spent by now.

  That's not the only thing that's become normalized over the last few days. As if it were possible, my wife has also become more comfortable with her new form. Although she's figured out how to conceal the monster between her legs when she goes out (by using a thick athletic supporter that is padded to absorb the ever-present leakage), she no longer tries to hide it at home.

  When we're inside the house where nobody can see her, Donna typically wears a tank top without a bra (revealing huge nipples that are erect even more often than is her cock) and tight fitting yoga pants. In this way, the form of her new cock is always clearly visible as a huge bulge in her pants, looking for all the world like a coiled serpent.

  She even tried wearing a one-piece body-suit leotard, the kind that button at the crotch. It took some work for her to clip it, and afterwards, her large member bulged the stretchy material as it was pushed up to rest against her belly. Perhaps predictably, her cock flopped out of the side of the material (I swear, it was trying to escape), and, when Donna finally noticed it, she giggled wantonly as she pushed it back in. Unfortunately, all that attention was causing the cock to grow, making it increasingly obvious that it wasn't going back into the tight-fitting confines of the leotard in its present state.

  That's when she called me. "Oh, Randy," she said winking. "Give me a hand would you?"

  This kind of attitude is new to Donna. I'm not sure if it's because she's still pissed at me, or if it's some minor aspect of her new dominant personality, but she's really been more assertive of late. Whether it's what to watch on TV or what we're having for supper, she's telling me a lot more than asking now.

  This was new territory for us. Donna had always been meek and capitulating. She'd always been the people-pleaser, and we'd never had an argument that lasted more than a day or two. I was also used to having my own way in pretty much, well, everything. To have her standing up for herself—I mean beyond the pheromone induced sex sessions—was unheard of. Sure, it was something that I'd been trying to encourage in her for years, especially when it came to handling that bitch Belinda at work, but I never expected me to be on the receiving end of her new spine.

  Actually, come to think of it, maybe Donna's new attitude isn't directed solely at me. Yesterday, she was telling me about something that happened at work with Belinda, and she was so excited because, for the first time ever, she had pushed back against Belinda! That never would have happened before!

  Donna and Belinda work together at a big architectural firm in the city. Belinda was initially hired as Donna's assistant but, through clever manipulation of the executives, as well as a combination of taking credit for Donna's ideas and badmouthing her in the process, Belinda had climbed the ranks so that she was now equal to my wife. Unfortunately, preferring to avoid conflict, Donna had just let it happen, and was now living with the consequences of that choice. Although Donna had tried to transfer out to another department, it had been denied. And so it was that Belinda continued to finagle her way into group projects with just her and Donna, in which she would make Donna do all the work while she took the majority of the credit. Now, to make matters worse, they were both up for the same promotion!

  This was another reason to keep her happy with regular hand jobs that kept her new, enhanced libido happy. I didn't want her to resent me for adding to her already considerable level of stress at work.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if Donna was able to vent some of her frustration at Belinda, maybe she wouldn’t be as angry at me anymore for putting her in the path of a witch’s curse.

  back to top

  DAY 14

  FRIDAY

/>   I didn't believe that this would have been possible even a week ago, but the situation is actually improving. It began on Wednesday night as we were preparing for the evening routine of a hand job for my wife before she went to sleep.

  Donna was in the shower because she liked to be fresh for me. I was standing in the mirror shaving, when I caught a glimpse of her ass through the shower stall window as she was bending over to shave her legs. From my vantage point, I had an excellent view of her familiar and shapely ass, one that I was relieved to see hadn't been altered at all by the sudden appearance of a huge sausage in the neighbouring region between her legs.

  I rinsed off my razor and turned around for a better view. Her cheeks were now pressing up against the glass, bouncing slightly as Donna stretched to shave her calves. I sighed contentedly. My wife has always had a gorgeous heart-shaped ass, one that is accentuated by her thin waist and flared hips. Although it was admittedly her boobs that first caught my attention, I'd always been fond of saying that, "I came for the tits and stayed for the ass."

  That's when it occurred to me.

  Donna had to relieve sexual tension. Up until now, we'd been doing that by stroking her cock, forgetting that, because she still had a pussy, regular intercourse was still a possibility.

  It was still a possibility right?

  Maybe—just maybe—we could relieve that sexual tension without me having to actually touch her cock.

  There was only one way to find out.

  I quickly slipped out of my comfy clothes and climbed into the shower stall behind her. She greeted me happily enough and was about to turn around when I stopped her. Grabbing the loofah sponge, and soaping it up, I started rubbing her back with it. She moaned her appreciation as I alternated between scrubbing and massaging her entire back and backside. I paid special attention to her buttocks, and she responded favourably. I guess it shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise actually. With her accentuated libido, her body was pretty much always ready for some kind of action. She pressed her ass up against my rubbing hand, lifting and presenting it to me in the process.