A Witches Mistake

Robert Stark (no relation to Tony) slowly pried open his eyes. For a moment, he lay gazing blearily up at the ceiling. Then, with all the effort in the world, he managed to roll over and drag himself to a seated position, legs hanging over the side of the bed.

What a night, he thought, staring at the wall of his room. First time in six months I decide to go to a bar, and I get so totally smashed, I can’t even remember getting home. And to make matters worse, I evidently wound up going to be alone.

But had he? Vaguely, Bob remembered laying on his bed, looking up at one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He could almost feel her hands stroking him, almost hear the soft words she whispered, words he couldn’t begin to understand. Had she really been here, or was it all just an alcohol-induced dream?

Bob shrugged. Either way, she was gone now, and it was time to get his Saturday started. Pushing himself upright, he staggered toward the bathroom, absently noticing that he seemed to be walking a bit funny today. Nothing major, but it seemed as if his hips were swinging a bit more than usual. Whatever happened last night, he thought, reaching up and absently scratching one breast, I hope I enjoyed it.

Suddenly, he froze. Breast? His eyes, still partly closed, flew open, and he stared down at his chest. There, he saw a pair of perhaps the finest breasts he’d ever seen. Not too large, perhaps a C or a D cup, firm, high, with pronounced nipples. Even as he stared, those nipples began to harden slightly. Stunned, Bob rushed into the bathroom, freezing at what he saw in the mirror.

Staring back at him, eyes wide, was a woman who’s beauty took his breath away. Full, firm lips, parted now in shock, revealed perfect white teeth. High cheekbones framed a nose that was pert without being too small, topped by large eyes of emerald green. Sandy brown hair, cut in a page boy style, framed the whole package.

Glancing down from that face, Bob saw a body that was almost husky, yet without giving anything away in femininity. Strong shoulders supported toned, muscular arms. The breasts were mounted on a strong chest, which tapered down to a slim waist, before exploding into wide hips. The legs were long, toned and muscular, flaring into firm thighs. And between those thighs……

Hesitantly, Bob ran a finger across the lightly furred mound between his legs. His finger felt the familiar contours beneath, yet his mind refused to accept the implications. A pussy? Between his legs? How could this be?

As his mind struggled to come to grips with this new body, his fingers continued to gently stroke between his thighs, gradually increasing the pressure until one slipped between the lips. Startled by the strange feeling of something inside him, Bob yanked his hand away.

“What’s going on?” he asked himself, hearing a voice that was as husky as this new body, yet definitely female. “I can’t be a woman. How can this be happening to me?”

Suddenly, he remembered the vague visions from the night before. Had the woman he remembered done this to him? How? And why? What had he ever done to deserve this?

A soft moan broke the silence in the room, startling him. Opening eyes he hadn’t even realized he’d closed, he looked down to find his fingers buried once more between his thighs. His other hand, meanwhile, had reached up and was gently pinching and rolling one hard nipple. Forcing his hands to his sides, he turned away from the mirror. There had to be an answer. All he had to do was find it.

Stepping back into his bedroom, he was suddenly struck by how different it looked. Gone was the usual clutter of clothes not yet folded or put away, brick-a-brack from his pockets. The room was now neat and orderly. A slightly open closet door drew his attention, and he opened it fully, to be confronted with an array of outfits neatly hanging. Female outfits, from slacks and blouses to dresses. For a moment, he stared silently, until an upwelling of pleasure brought another moan to his lips, letting him know his hand had once more found its way between his thighs.

Has everything changed, he wondered, opening a dresser drawer to find an assortment of bras and panties. Has the whole world changed? And, mmmmmmm, why can’t I keep my hands off myself?

Sternly ordering his hands to behave, Bob explored the other rooms of his house. The kitchen was neat and tidy, the fridge stocked with foods he wouldn’t have considered eating before, but which all looked rather good at the moment. The table was clear and spotless, giving him a place to brace himself as a second finger found its way inside him, nearly causing his knees to buckle from the rush of pleasure.

The living room, too, was different. Spotless, it had a feminine air to it somehow. Glancing around, Bob spotted a purse on the table next to the front door. Glad to have something that would occupy both hands, he began searching the purse, finding cosmetics, keys, and a billfold. Inside the billfold was a license bearing a picture of his new face. The name on the license was Roberta Starr. A quick search showed that credit cards, social security card, even library card, all displayed the name Roberta Starr.

Clutching the billfold, Bob leaned back, slightly surprised when he made contact sooner than he expected. Craning his neck, he gazed, unsurprised, at the full, firm ass now resting against the table. Slowly, he set the billfold down, then made his way back toward his bedroom.

A shower, he thought. A nice hot shower. Maybe that will wake me up, and I’ll find out this whole thing is just some kind of strange dream.

In the bathroom, he quickly adjusted the shower to as hot as he could stand, noting as he did that what he could stand seemed to be a bit less than he remembered. Stepping into the tub, he stood with his back to the hot spray, eyes gazing at nothing as he pondered his situation, his thoughts only interrupted when he felt his fingers once more begin stroking between his thighs.

Wash, he told himself. Keep those hands busy. Almost desperately, he reached for the soap and washrag, coming up with a bath sponge and a bottle of scented body wash. Bob ignored the obviously female implications of these items, turning to let the spray run down the front of his body as he squeezed body wash onto the sponge. Then, turning his back to the spray again, he began washing.

There has to be a way out of this, he thought, scrubbing himself vigorously. If this was done to me, it can be undone. All I have to do is figure out who, and how.

As his mind wrestled with the questions this new body presented, his hands began to slow their scrubbing, gradually centering their attentions. Before he realized it, Bob found one hand again buried between his thighs, while the other drew the sponge back and forth across his now hard nipples.

Realizing he couldn’t prevent what was eventually going to happen anyway, Bob braced his back against the side of the shower, no longer resisting the urges that began flooding through him. One finger found its way inside him, followed by a second, causing his legs to spread, opening himself up for exploration. When those fingers found the bud of his clit, Bob thought his legs were going to fail him, so intense was the rush of pleasure. His other hand left off its ministrations of his breasts, reaching up and grabbing the shower rod in a tight grip.

Lifting one foot and resting it atop the side of the tub, Bob pressed back against the wall, knees spread wide, as his fingers began a rhythmic thrusting, bringing a gasping moan with each stroke. Deliberately, Bob kept the pace slow at first, allowing the sensations within him to build. Finally, it became too much to control, his fingers thrusting harder and faster as his moans became gasping cries. Slowly, the feelings built until, with no warning, his body exploded.

Bob found himself seated in the end of the tub, his head resting against the wall beside the faucet, cooling water cascading over his sprawled legs. For long moments, he simply lay there, his mind struggling to make sense of the overwhelming flood of sensations that had just poured through him. Finally, weakly, he crawled to his feet, shut off the shower, and staggered from the stall.

Bob stared at himself in the mirror, watching the rise and fall of his breasts as his breathing slowly returned to normal. If that’s what a female orgasm is like, he thought raggedly, I can see why they enjoy it so much. Turning away from the mirror, he moved slowly into the living room, only to halt in surprise.

Seated on the couch was the woman he remembered! Glancing up as he entered the room, she smiled and rose to her feet.

“Mr. Stark,” she said, before he had a chance to speak, “I am here to apologize.”

Surprised by her words, Bob simply stared for a moment before replying. “Apologize? For what?”

The woman frowned. “It seems I have made a terrible mistake. It wasn’t you I was supposed to meet at the bar last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I am a witch,” the woman said earnestly. “I know, witches aren’t supposed to exist, but we do, I assure you. The body you now possess is proof enough that there is magic in this world.”

“So you changed me?” Bob felt his anger begin to grow. “Why?”

The woman frowned again. “As I said, a mistake. I was sent to that bar to meet and pick up a man known for his cruel and indifferent treatment of women. I was responsible for his punishment, which was to become that which he had mistreated throughout his life. In other words, an attractive woman. Unfortunately, I mistook you for that man, and so you received the punishment. This was never meant to happen to you.”

“So change me back,” Bob demanded. “Give me my body and my life back.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman replied, “but I can’t do that. Once a punishment is handed out, it can’t be taken back. I can, however, modify it somewhat.”

Stepping forward, the woman placed her hand on Bob’s forehead and began whispering words he couldn’t understand. After a moment, she lowered her hand and stepped back, watching as he looked down at his old, male, body.

“So I’m back to normal?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” the woman replied. “The punishment lies in being forced to experience life within the body of an attractive woman. I can’t remove the punishment, but I was able to modify the terms.

“You will still,” she continued, “be forced to live within a woman’s body, but not all the time. Instead, you will have to spend the equivalent of one week per month as a woman. It is up to you how this time is spent. I would say you could account for most of it by spending your nights and weekends as a woman, while your weekdays could be spent as the man you have always been. You will be able to change between your two bodies at will, and how you accumulate your female time is up to you.

“Also, part of the punishment was an irresistible urge to touch yourself.” The woman smiled. “That’s what led to your little session in the shower. Again, I can’t remove that urge completely, but I can modify it. Now, whenever you change to your female body, you will find yourself extremely aroused. Once you’ve dealt with that arousal, you should be fine.”

“So instead of being a horny woman all the time,” Bob said, “I now have to be a horny woman only part of the time. How is this fair to me?”

“It isn’t,” the woman admitted reluctantly. “Therefore, I have added some extra touches. You will never get sick. Your female body can only become pregnant if you want it to. And you will age very slowly, keeping your youthful looks for many years longer than you would have otherwise. Also, certain financial arrangements have been made. You will never want for anything ever again.”

The woman fell silent for a moment, her eyes dropping. Then, her voice almost too soft to hear, she said, “There is also another means of recompense. For the rest of your life, however long that may be, you will have someone to attend to your needs in any un-magical way needed.”

“Oh?” Bob’s eyebrows rose. “And who would that happen to be?”

“Myself.” Surprisingly, the woman blushed. “My punishment for the mistake I made. It is because of me that you find yourself in this situation. Therefore, my punishment will be to serve you in any way you wish, for the rest of your life. The only restriction is that I cannot use magic at your command. Otherwise, I am at your service.”

Bob gazed at her thoughtfully. “Interesting. And do you have a name?”

“Janine,” the woman replied. Bob nodded, then smiled.

“So, Janine, tell me,” he said softly, “if your punishment is to serve me, why is it that I am naked and you’re not?”

Almost before the final words left his mouth, she stood naked before him. His eyes took in her slender, shapely body before rising to meet startled eyes.

“It would appear,” she said, “that my magic will automatically obey some of your wishes”

“So it would appear,” he replied, reaching out and stroking one firm breast. At his touch, her eyes closed and she moaned softly. “You would also appear to be very receptive to my touch.” At these words, Janine blushed vividly.

“So it would appear,” she said, echoing his words.

Placing a finger beneath her chin, Bob raised her eyes to meet his. “I am not at all happy with what you’ve done to me,” he said softly, “and none of what you’ve done to make it right can change the fact that I didn’t deserve what you did to me. However, it’s pretty obviously not going to change, no matter how mad I get. So I guess the only thing I can do is get used to it.”

Bob’s eyes closed. When they opened again, they were the emerald green of Roberta Starr. For a moment, those eyes locked with the startled eyes of the nude witch, then she smiled.

“Call me Bobbi when I’m in this body,” she said, her voice huskier than before. Still smiling, she took Janine’s hand, leading her toward the bedroom.

“For your first service,” she said softly, “I believe you need to deal with this change arousal.” The closing of the bedroom door muffled her soft laughter.

02.08.11