oggbashan Posts

    Miranda The Witch

    Miranda the Witch

    by oggbashan ©

    Copyright Oggbashan October 2004. The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

    This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

    This is a long fantasy with mild female domination.

    **************

    Chapter 1: The First Evening

    The evening began conventionally enough. Miranda and I had both gone to the Chamber of Commerce's dinner dance. As most of the other members were married or in long term relationships Miranda and I had almost been obliged to pair up for the evening. I had no objection. That night she seemed to be the most entrancing woman there. I didn't know why. We had grown up in the same town. She had gone to school with my younger sister Emily. We had shops side by side in the High Street. We were both antique dealers and from time to time we would cover each other's business. She had been a pleasant partner at similar formal functions I'd never considered her as anything but a friend or the girl next door that you never notice. She was attractive but not conventionally pretty. Her long black hair was her best feature but was held in a formal style.

    I couldn't stop myself from looking at her clothes that were a startling change from the little black dress she usually wore for such occasions. She was wearing a black shimmering bustier with a bright red floor-length satin skirt over layers of rustling white taffeta petticoats. Her skirt was nearly as wide as a Victorian crinoline. As she moved her bust was sparkling with reflected light. The massive skirt bounced and flowed around her as if it was alive.

    Her clothes seemed to have transformed her personality. She was usually quiet and self-effacing. That evening she lived up to her outfit. She flirted with most of the men at our table. Her conversation was as sparkling as her bustier. This Miranda was one I didn't know but I liked. She was fun to be with.

    We danced together most of the time. She danced beautifully but I was not at my best. I was falling in love and her skirt kept wrapping itself around my legs as if to keep me close to her. It seemed to have a life of its own. It fascinated me. I kept watching its movements rather than concentrating on my dancing, or on my partner. As the evening wore on many adjourned to the bar leaving a few dancers and onlookers. I was distracted by Miranda's skirt and nearly tripped a couple of times.

    Finally Miranda snapped at me: "Why don't you let yourself go, Joss? If you relax we will dance much better."

    I looked deep into her eyes. She nodded briefly at me and I felt my inhibitions and embarrassment melt away. My attraction to her clothes transferred to the woman inside them. From then on we moved as one. We astonished the few onlookers and ourselves by dancing an impassioned tango. Her skirt no longer impeded me. It caressed me, flowing around the pair of us as if it was enjoying the dance. As we walked off the floor to sparse but enthusiastic applause her skirt seemed to hug me closer to her. There was a chair by the open window and without a second thought I sat on it and pulled her to sit on my lap. She flipped up her skirt as she lowered herself. I felt her nylon-sheathed legs through my trousers. As I started to struggle to free my arms from her billowing skirt and petticoats Miranda stopped me with a kiss and a hug that held me pinioned.

    "Why don't you take me home tonight, Joss," Miranda murmured in my ear. "We can share a taxi. You can have coffee at my place then go to your place later." Although our shops were side by side she had a cottage near the river and I had a house at the opposite end of the town.

    The idea seemed so attractive that I agreed instantly. Then Miranda stood up, pulling me with her.

    "Come on then, Joss. Let's go."

    I hadn't expected to go so soon but...

    In the back seat of the taxi I was again swamped. Miranda sat quite still but her skirt and petticoats covered me from feet to mid chest. Underneath their feminine exuberance my sex began to stir. If I hadn't known better I'd have thought that her clothes realised my growing excitement and pressed closer around me.

    When we arrived at her house an all-black cat greeted her. The cat reminded me of a witch's familiar. Why should I think of witches? The cat wandered off after winding itself once or twice around Miranda.

    In the main living room was a friendly clutter of objects. The only free seating was a large two-seat settee. Even that had lingerie strewn over one arm.

    "Take a seat, Joss," said Miranda, waving an arm at the settee "I won't be long."

    I lowered myself on to the settee furthest from the lingerie. It gave beneath me and as I adjusted my weight it seemed to shape itself around me. I sunk deep into its cushions vaguely aware that it would take an effort to get out of its depths.

    The coffee came so quickly that I thought it must be instant. It wasn't. Miranda sat beside me.

    "How do you like my settee?" she asked.

    I searched for an appropriate answer. It was just a settee, wasn't it? An old one but not antique. It was comfortable like an old pair of shoes but didn't look or feel special.

    "It's comfortable," I said "You could almost snuggle up into it."

    That was the best I could think of.

    "It has some unusual features," Miranda added.

    As we drank our coffee I was puzzled. What unusual features? I knew that if Miranda said 'unusual' she meant it.

    We exchanged small talk mainly about fellow members of the Chamber of Commerce. Miranda took my empty cup from me and put it beside hers on a side table.

    "I'll show you how unusual it is." she said, standing up, shaking her skirt and petticoats out. Her action seemed automatic but the sound excited me.

    She picked up a floor-length slip from the settee's arm. The slip had been covering a control panel let into the arm. She flipped a switch and an extension slid out lifting my legs off the floor as the back reclined. I was even more comfortable but almost horizontal. The settee held my body fully supported.

    She moved another switch. From the centre of the settee and from the arm beside me four human looking arms closed around me. They looked and felt like women's arms but much stronger. As I opened my mouth to object Miranda threw another switch. A 'hand' clamped over my mouth stifling my protests. I looked up at her in astonishment. I hadn't expected anything other than polite conversation after a pleasant evening but now I was her prisoner in her unusual settee. I watched in pinioned horror and enforced silence as she flicked another switch. The cushions of the other half of the settee flipped themselves on top of me. I was covered from neck to beyond my feet. Only my head was uncovered but my mouth was held firmly by the 'hand'.

    Miranda stood in front of me swishing her petticoats slightly.

    "Well, Joss? What do you think of my unusual settee? Do you like it?"

    I was unable to reply, gagged by that soft but firm 'hand'.

    "Do you want to make love to me?" she asked, unpinning her glossy black hair and shaking it out to tumble over her bare shoulders.

    "Oops! You can't answer yet."

    She moved a switch and the 'hand' released my mouth and slid silently back into the settee.

    "How's that? Do you want to?"

    My voice was shaking. "Yes, I'd like to," I gulped out, forgetting to protest at my imprisonment.

    "You'll have to earn the right to," she said.

    I listened as she moved behind me and stood with her back to the settee. By craning my head I could just see her. Then she flipped up the back of her skirt and sat down on my face! In the scented cave under her skirt and layered petticoats I felt her silken panties press against my face. She squirmed over my face and then my nose slid into her. I couldn't breathe but I was enjoying the sensation. Soon, all too soon, she lifted herself off me. I panted for breath as she uncovered my face. She squatted beside my head and stroked it with her hand.

    "Now I want to try something special," she whispered in my ear.

    I heard the rustle of her petticoats as she reached under them and pulled her panties down and off. She held them in front of my face.

    "Do you like them?" she asked, holding the skimpy white silk and lace close to my face.

    "Yes".

    "Would you like to be them and be that close to me?"

    "Yes!" The thought nearly made me come on the spot.

    "We'll see," she said mysteriously. "Keep quiet and still."

    I had no choice because her hand covered my mouth and the settee held me firmly.

    She held her panties in one hand while the other pressed my mouth. Then she started chanting in a language I had never heard. As she finished with a long drawn-out word I felt my body shrinking towards her hand. I could still feel and see but my body was vanishing. My clothes were left behind. Her hand grew larger and larger. It took only a few seconds before I was just a pair of panties dangling from her hand, a match for the ones she had taken off. She dropped the other pair and looked at me closely.

    "It works!" she cried in triumph. "I didn't believe it but it really works!"

    She held me up in the air and stretched me out. I could only see her when my face was pointed towards her. I seemed to be seeing from the front of the gusset. I couldn't understand what had happened. Was it an illusion? Had she hypnotised me? If it was an illusion it was reality for me.

    "Can you hear me, Joss?"

    I could, but I couldn't reply. Panties have no voice.

    With considerable effort she bundled her skirt and petticoats to expose her legs. She put her legs in me and eased me up her legs. They were nice legs, very nice legs. As I was pulled up, the floor receded beneath me. Her stockings seemed to grab for me as I passed but then came her bare thighs outlined by her suspenders. Finally she settled me around her cheeks and her black bush tickled my inside. She dropped her skirt and petticoats and stood up.

    My view was almost straight down between her legs. Until she moved I was in almost total darkness. As she walked around the room light entered under her skirt and I caught glimpses of her shoes, her ankles and her legs as the petticoats slithered around them. So close, their sound was overwhelming. Her natural scent was stronger than any I had experienced before. I began to appreciate just how close I was to being part of Miranda. My whole body was next to her skin. My senses were surrounded by her. I could feel her! Her every tiny movement seemed to shake my whole being.

    Then she started to dance! I could barely stand the strength of the sensations piling in upon me. I moved as she moved. I stretched as she stretched. I saw more and more of those beautiful legs and felt every move they made. Inside me I was being tickled beyond endurance. When she stopped and stood still her petticoats settled into silence around her. I was in warm darkness again. I heard her voice as if from a great distance.

    "Can you do anything, Joss?" she asked "Can you move?"

    I explored the sensations that I was receiving. I could feel her legs, her cheeks, and the warmth of her skin. I could smell her natural scent. Experimentally I tried my limbs. They moved!

    "Yes!" came a cry from above me. "I felt that! Try harder!"

    My arms seemed to be holding her legs; my legs were tucked up behind me. I leant backwards and the back of my head entered her. I pushed backwards and pulled my legs towards me. My legs slid into the crack between her cheeks as my ears were covered by her warm lips. I exerted myself and gulped as my face creased itself into her.

    "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she shouted.

    Her hand pressed in through the layers in front of me. She pushed me deep inside her and her fingers stretched me. Then I was dampened by her warm emissions. She pulled me out; shoved me in; pulled me out...

    She seemed insatiable. I wriggled as much as I could. I tried my best to help her. I held her cheeks tightly. I pulled in as she pushed. Finally she sat down. I was soaked through and through and felt stretched all over. I had enjoyed every second of my life as her panties yet... my role seemed so passive. I hadn't had much input into the experience that had so moved both of us. Being an attractive woman's panties was a nice fantasy but the reality was humbling. She controlled everything. She used me. She wore me.

    I began to get slightly worried. I was a thing that belonged to her - a silky beautiful thing but still a thing. Any one pair of panties was not likely to be worn more than once a week. What would happen to me for the rest of the week? I could be taken off, thrown in a laundry basket for days and then washed. Those worries were not urgent while I was still held in shape by her body, deprived of any other sensation by the layers of petticoats around me, but my concern was growing.

    Then the light broke in as she lifted her skirt. She pulled me down and off. Now my worries looked immediate! She held me up and asked:

    "How was that, Joss? Did you like being my panties?"

    I still couldn't reply as she spread me over the back of a chair. I was facing her, so I saw her don her original panties. Then I sighed as she dropped her skirts covering the legs that I'd recently been so intimate with. I had a real sense of loss - loss of intimacy, loss of sensation, loss of comfort. I'd been designed to hold and to caress a woman and now I was just an empty shell.

    She walked over and looked at me closely.

    "Well, Joss? How did you like my experiment?"

    I shook my head. As a pair of panties I couldn't answer her could I?

    "Don't shake your head. Give me a proper answer."

    She'd seen me shake my head!

    I tried to open my mouth. It worked!

    "Er..." I said "I can talk?"

    "Yes, you can talk. Why not? You are yourself again."

    I was? I moved my fingers and toes. They were back. The relief was fantastic. I wouldn't be banished to a pile of dirty laundry or whirled in a washing machine! I stood up gingerly and then gasped in horror. I was stark naked! I covered myself with my hands.

    "It's a bit late for modesty, Joss." smiled Miranda. "Now, how about answering my question?"

    "It was different. I liked being that close to you but I couldn't do much. I'd have liked more participation but even so I'll remember the experience and you for a long time. Did it really happen?"

    "Yes. It really happened." Miranda smiled. I wasn't sure about that smile. What else might happen?

    She continued "I think that you've now earned the right to make love tonight. I didn't expect the experiment to work. It did. You helped and did what you could. Now you are due a reward." She took my hand and led me off to her bedroom. Her skirt whipped round my naked legs as we went. Later they whipped round more than my legs.

    We made love over and over again that night. Nearly every time she was on top. She removed her bustier with a sigh of relief as her breasts swung freely. She didn't shed her skirt or petticoats. She used to add to our enjoyment. She hid behind them; hid me under them, wrapped me in them; caressed me with them and finally lashed me with them as she reached her ultimate climax.

    The next morning I woke to find her empty clothes tightly swathed around me. I had to struggle hard to get free enough to get off the bed. They seemed almost alive and determined to hang on to me. I could hear noises from the kitchen so I went to investigate. I hid my nakedness by holding her skirt to me. It moulded itself around my body and kept sliding up as if to cover my face. I had to push it down. As I entered the kitchen I saw her dressed in her 'Antique dealer's' uniform. When she saw me she laughed.

    "Can't you escape the spell of that skirt?" she asked. "Your clothes are on the settee."

    I retreated in confusion. There were my clothes, neatly laid out on the ordinary looking settee. I tried to shed the skirt. I released myself from it with difficulty. It seemed to stick to my hands and clutch at my body. Eventually I threw it off and dressed in my own clothes. Miranda walked in from the kitchen carrying breakfast for the two of us.

    "You managed it then." she stated "I put an attraction spell on my clothes last night. It should have nearly worn off by now."

    "What do you mean 'an attraction spell'?"

    "Haven't you realised by now that I'm a witch? And a skilled one, though I say it myself," she said seriously.

    I nodded. I believed her. After last night I had no choice but to believe her. If she could turn me into a pair of her panties it would be simple to produce an 'attraction spell'.

    "What does an attraction spell do?" I asked.

    "Well the one I used last night had two purposes. I made it over my skirt and petticoats to attract you - and only you - to them and to me who was wearing them; and to attract them to you so that they would cling to you at every opportunity."

    "They nearly tripped me up when we were dancing."

    "I know. I had to modify the spell slightly or they might have wrapped so tightly around you that you'd have found movement impossible. That might have been embarrassing in front of the Chamber of Commerce. They protested so I let them have you after I'd finished with you last night. When I left they were making you squirm with pleasure. You vanished under my skirt and petticoats. They wrapped you up completely and were massaging you with rhythmical contractions. From the muffled noises I heard you make during the night I think that they enjoyed you."

    "What do you mean –'they protested' - clothes can't talk. I couldn't talk when I was your panties..." I said and as I stopped I realised that I'd admitted that I'd been her panties.

    That was ridiculous! I might have dreamed that I was her panties. I might have been hypnotised to think I was her panties. I couldn't really have been her panties. That was impossible, wasn't it?

    She answered both questions.

    "Well, Joss, whenever I put a spell on inanimate objects, such as my skirt last night, that spell takes part of me with it. So the skirt and petticoats had some of me in them. That 'me' can communicate to the rest of me. It's easier when we're in close contact especially clothing that I'm wearing or have recently worn. So I was aware of what my skirt and petticoats were doing, even when 'they' made love to you after I left last night. I felt what they felt. I was enjoying you from a bed in another room. But it didn't work when I turned you into my panties. I felt you but I couldn't communicate with you. You were the panties. You were giving them life, not me."

    "So I really was your panties?" I asked incredulously "It wasn't an illusion?"

    "Yes. You really were my panties... " She stopped and corrected herself "No. That's not quite right. You were a copy of my panties. My panties still existed. You changed into a copy of them. The copy was so accurate that I couldn't tell them apart - until you moved. That was the difference. You could move independently and do things to me that my panties could never do.

    Oh yes - I could put a spell on them to make them move but it would be me making them move. It would be a different version of playing with myself. But you as my panties - that was great. I controlled you. I owned you. I wore you. Yet you could move and help me to a climax. You were nearly part of me and still yourself."

    I was re-living the experience as she spoke. It made me aroused again. There was one thing I still wanted to know.

    "Why did you use the settee? If you are such a skilled witch surely you didn't need its mechanical help?"

    "Don't underestimate that settee. It does other things as well. It is computer controlled and full of sensors. That's how the hand gagged you so accurately. The advantage to me is that it doesn't use any witch energy at all. Every time I make a spell it takes effort. Although I have considerable powers I can only use a certain amount of energy during one day. The transformation spell I had never done before. I didn't know how much effort I would need..."

    "So was it a large effort, Miranda? The result was shattering even if I was your panties for what? Half an hour?"

    "It was surprisingly easy, Joss. It took less out of me than the attraction spell and that is a very simple one. I suppose..." She frowned slightly "...I think that I could do the transformation spell a dozen times a day, maybe more."

    I shuddered. The thought of being turned into her panties a dozen times a day was appalling. Being her panties was one thing. The transformation from me to the panties and back again was not so pleasant. It had felt like being thrown around on a theme park ride without the safety harness.

    "But I can't..." Miranda stopped. "Never mind." She changed her tone. "What am I going to do with you now? I can't let you go around telling people that I turned you into my panties, can I? I'll have to make you forget all about it. "

    I didn't fancy that at all. I wanted to remember! I turned towards the door as if to leave.

    "Don't go!" Miranda shouted at me.

    Then I couldn't. In the mirror by the door I saw the long white slip she'd moved from the settee's arm last night rise high in the air behind me. Before I could react it dropped suddenly over my head. I was jammed inside it, my arms trapped against my sides. To my horror I watched other lingerie flying towards me. Stockings wound round my knees and ankles lashing them tightly. Miranda's bustier laced itself around my slip-swathed torso. The panties whose twin I'd been last night forced themselves inside my mouth. A bra's cup clamped over my face and the other cradled the back of my head as its back strap covered and gagged my mouth. All her intimate items writhed as they tried to hold me closer and closer.

    "Mmmpf!" was all I could manage to express. Miranda stood in front of me. I could just see her through the bra-cup hugging my face.

    "Naughty! You shouldn't try to leave until I give you permission."

    She edged me towards the settee and gave me a gentle push. Restrained as I was I fell helplessly. She lifted my legs off the floor. Now she didn't need the settee's unusual features. I couldn't move at all. I could barely see and I couldn't talk.

    Miranda stood there in her tweed skirt, sensible shoes and jacket. The contrast between us was ridiculous. I was lying prone in my evening suit yet hidden under her underwear that was binding me as her helpless prisoner.

    "What shall I do with you, Joss?" she asked. "I can't let you go, but you can't just disappear. Too many people would ask questions and know that you left with me last night."

    She sat beside me and ruffled my hair. It was about all that was left visible of me.

    "I need your co-operation. We could enjoy things together as long as you keep quiet about it. Perhaps I could enforce your silence by witchcraft but we'd have much more enjoyment if you were a willing participant."

    She paused and muttered under her breath. The bra slowly released my face and the panties slid out of my mouth. I was aware that the reprieve was conditional. The bra's cup was poised ready to gag me again.

    "I don't want to forget last night!" I protested. "I enjoyed most of it and I might want to repeat some of it. Please don't make me forget!"

    "So that's it," she said happily "I didn't think that you'd want to leave me so soon."

    "I don't!"

    "Then you'll co-operate?" The bra twitched ominously.

    "Yes, please."

    "OK. We'll have breakfast and work out where we go from here."

    As Miranda spoke the stockings unwound themselves from my legs, the bra lifted off my head and the bustier unlaced itself but seemed reluctant to do so.

    She helped me to stand up then the slip started to ease itself up and off me.

    "Hold it!" Miranda ordered. The slip grabbed me again.

    Miranda held her arms up above her head and moved her hands in the air. I gasped. She was suddenly naked with her clothes neatly folded on a table. Her hands kept moving and under the slip I was naked too. Miranda rubbed her breasts against me with her hands still making passes in the air. She slid her arms into a dressing gown as it dropped around us both. She tied its belt behind my back and pressed closely against me. Her hands and arms were free. Mine were tied.

    She kissed me, holding my head in her hands.

    "There!" she said as she rubbed herself against me. "That should keep you interested until after breakfast."

    She waved her hands again, briskly this time. Then she was fully dressed. So was I. And I was free!

    We ate breakfast as if we were just the friends we had been before last night.

    Chapter 2: The First Day

    Miranda is a witch. After last night I was beginning to understand what a relationship with a witch might mean...

    We sat eating breakfast in Miranda's cottage. She was dressed as she usually was. She had a tweed skirt, a plain white blouse, a jacket and wore sensible shoes. I was still in evening clothes from last night's dinner dance. Miranda looked quizzically at me.

    "You can't leave here dressed like that, Joss. People might think that you've been here all night."

    Of course, I had been in her cottage all night. I hadn't had a choice about it!

    "Unless you've got something suitable in menswear lying around, how can I change?" I asked. I was being sarcastic. I appreciated the problem just as much as she did. It was a concern. We lived in a small town and people would talk if they found out.

    "Well," she said thoughtfully "I haven't got anything for you to wear but I could wear YOU!"

    I winced at that. Yesterday evening she'd turned me into her panties and had worn me. She could do it again and then she could walk out of the house wearing me. I'd enjoyed being her panties but I wasn't ready to face the world as a pair of knickers!

    She saw that I was worried. She tried to reassure me.

    "It would only me until we get to your house. I'd choose something innocuous to change you into. Something that people wouldn't notice. Something I normally wear outdoors..."

    I felt relieved. Still unwilling to be transformed but if she was thinking like that she was at least considering my feelings.

    "I suppose you could, Miranda. I'd rather be changed into something to enjoy the sensation but just this once it could save our reputations."

    "OK. Finish your breakfast then strip and bundle your clothes up for me to carry."

    So that's what happened. I stripped, parcelled my clothes up into a carrier bag and waited for what Miranda would do. What would she change me into?

    She came through from the hall holding something behind her back.

    "I've found the ideal item," she said, still hiding it. "Hold my hand, Joss."

    I'd have liked to know what I was to be, but I already knew that I couldn't afford to argue with Miranda. If I did I'd be overwhelmed by flying lingerie, bound and gagged by pantyhose or meet some other embarrassing predicament. I sighed as I gave her my hand.

    She smiled at me. "Thank you for your trust in me, Joss." That smile dispelled my unease.

    She muttered the formula that I couldn't understand and I felt the wrenching turmoil of the transformation. I shrunk smaller and smaller and finally I was held in her hand as - a hat! It was a feminine and delicate hat but still just a hat. It was a "sensible" hat to go with the rest of her outfit. Miranda picked me up and placed me on her head. I fitted over the back of her gleaming black hair and just touched the nape of her neck. Her hair smelt wonderful! Wisps of it caressed my edges. I hadn't expected sexual excitement from being a hat. I was getting it!

    Miranda picked up the carrier bag with my evening clothes and left the cottage. She climbed into her car. I didn't even brush the car's roof lining as she sat in the driver's seat. She drove the short distance to my house and parked outside. Then disaster!

    As she got out of the car I caught on the top of the door opening and fell off. She caught me with a cry of horror. We both realised what was about to happen. I was starting to change back into a full size naked man in broad daylight! She rushed towards my front door. Then she couldn't open it. The keys were in my evening suit still in the carrier bag in the car. She turned to run back to the car then stopped. If she'd gone it would have been too late. I was recognisably a naked man. Small still, but naked. Soon she wouldn't be able to hide me with her body. I tried to speak but hadn't changed far enough.

    She acted quickly. She stripped off her jacket and wrapped it round me. I was already the size of a small c***d. Carrying me clutched to her, she returned to the car, extracted the carrier bag, fumbled inside it for the keys, returned to the front door and let herself in.

    We were still in trouble. Both side of the door were clear glass panels and now I was now full size, naked and much too large for her jacket to hide me. I couldn't move from behind the door without being seen.

    Miranda was equal to the situation. Rummaging in her handbag she produced a glove. Holding it in one hand and touching me with the other she muttered her spell as quickly as she could. Then relief - I was a glove. A shabby work-a-day black glove but not the embarrassing revelation I could have been. Miranda held me and my 'twin' in her left hand.

    In my living room she collapsed on my settee.

    "That was a narrow squeak, Joss! I'd never have lived that down, nor would you!"

    She laughed nervously. "I need a drink - now." Still clutching the pair of gloves she went into my kitchen.

    "Hmm." she said "At least you are clean and tidy."

    She looked around my neatly arranged kitchen. Nothing was out of place and everything had its place.

    "Where do you keep the glasses, Joss?" She asked, flinging open one cupboard after another. As a glove I couldn't tell her.

    Eventually she found the glasses and filled one with tap water. She tossed it off quickly before refilling the glass.

    "It's lucky for you that you weren't my panties then. Either you'd have emerged from under my skirt or else you might have been wet through. I nearly peed myself in fright."

    Clutching the glass she walked back into to my sitting room. She sat down again and put a glove on the settee beside her. It was the other glove, not me! She still held me with her hand resting on her lap.

    "Come on, Joss! You should change quicker than that." She said impatiently as she watched the other glove. "Oh well, I'll try the quick change method." She muttered the spell under her breath. Instantly I became my naked self lying on my back across her lap with her hand resting where it shouldn't - on my taut erection. She withdrew her hand as if she'd being stung.

    "Joss!" she yelled, spilling the water all over me. "You startled me."

    "So did you" I retorted. "You tried to change the wrong glove, then grabbed my penis, then soaked me!"

    We both burst out laughing at the ridiculous situation, and in relief.

    "I don't think I'll wear a transformed you in public again, at least not until I've thought long and hard about it." said Miranda.

    "I would appreciate that!" I admitted, "That was a narrow escape."

    "Are you going to lie there all day?" she asked. "Hadn't you better get dressed before the whole town decides to visit us?"

    I saw her point. Since breakfast we had had enough shocks for the day. I went to my bedroom and dressed casually before returning to Miranda. She stood up to greet me with a kiss. That was a nice welcome.

    "What shall we do today?" I asked.

    "How about going out for the day? I'd like to get to know you better before we have more adventures" she replied.

    "That sounds good. I'd like to know more about you. You are so different from the girl I've been aware of all my life that I can hardly believe that you are the same person."

    "I am. It's just that I can't let people suspect that I'm a witch. They might get the wrong idea."

    "So they might. I like the witch version - no, it's stronger than that. I love Miranda the Witch." I declared.

    That earned me a delighted hug and a frenzy of kisses.

    "I love you, Joss," Miranda whispered in my ear as she nibbled my earlobe. "I've wanted you for some time. I even asked your sister Emily to help me. She likes me but wouldn't help because she loves you. She insisted that I leave you to make your own choice. I did but you didn't seem to notice me."

    "I noticed. I appreciated you as a friend. I just didn't know the real you. Now that I do, you are irresistible."

    We left it at that for a while. Happily we prepared for the day out. I made sandwiches while Miranda made coffee in a Thermos. We loaded the lunch in my sports car and set off. Apart from driving South towards the sun we had no real idea where we would go.

    After an hour we stopped in a forest area and walked hand in hand through the woods. We found that our knowledge of natural history was complementary. I knew the trees and plants; she the a****ls, birds and insects. We explained things to each other, pointed out rarities and just watched life happening around us. It seemed natural to walk quietly side by side holding hands just like a pair of teenagers. Our understanding of each other seemed to grow deeper each minute. When we returned to the car to eat our picnic lunch I felt that I had been together with Miranda for months not hours. The more I knew of her, the more I admired her. We sat together, her arm round my waist, my arm round her shoulder. From time to time we kissed gently.

    "Joss," said Miranda quietly "What shall we do?"

    I realised that this was more than a question about the rest of the day.

    "I think we should just enjoy our relationship as it develops and then see where it gets us." I replied seriously.

    "I agree - but I want to explore the possibilities of that spell as well."

    "I couldn't stop you, even if I wanted too," I said "And the possibilities of it could be exciting. All I ask is that you treat me gently, please."

    "Of course I will..." she hugged me "...most of the time."

    She winked at me. I knew that I'd suffer sometimes but already I knew that being with Miranda was worth some indignity and embarrassment. She'd saved our reputations this morning with her skill. I didn't mind that it had been her spell that caused the trouble.

    We packed up the remains of our lunch and got back into the car. We set off again, still travelling South. I had a vague idea where I was going but we were just enjoying the quiet country roads. Then I saw a signpost to a place I remembered from c***dhood outings with my parents. I followed its direction and much sooner than I expected reached a seaside car park. There were just a handful of cars there.

    Miranda and I got out and walked to the top of the sand dune. Stretched out before us was a beach of golden sand. It still seemed limitless. The tide was out leaving a wide expanse of rippled beach. We walked down to the high water mark and along the beach. We shed our shoes. I rolled up my trousers. Miranda shed her tights. We noticed the bird and a****l tracks in the wet sand, the shells and waded through sandy pools. One of them was our downfall. It was cloudy and much deeper than the others. Miranda nearly fell over as she pointed out a small fish. She grabbed at me and I fell headlong into the water, splashing her to the waist. As I clambered out we were a sorry sight. My clothes were soaked. Her skirt was wringing wet. We were at least a mile from the car. It would be an uncomfortable walk back.

    Miranda took the opportunity to play a trick on me. I didn't know her powers well enough to realise that she could have dried us with witchcraft in seconds.

    "You look a real mess," she said "I'm soaked to the waist. We need to dry off. Strip!"

    I looked around. There was no one in sight. I obeyed her.

    I spread my clothes out to dry and as I did so she unzipped and shed her skirt. She sat down in her plain white cotton panties and put her skirt down beside her. I sat next to her. I wasn't cold because the sun was shining brightly. She snuggled up to me and held my hand. I didn't see that she had her other hand on her wet skirt. She mumbled under her breath. I turned to ask what she was saying and realised with horror that I was being transformed. She'd done it again!

    I was a copy of her skirt. A dry copy. She pulled me on and zipped me up.

    "Thanks, Joss," she said "Now I can continue to explore this beach while our clothes dry."

    She set off along the beach. I watched my sodden clothes retreating into the distance. Then I explored the more immediate feelings. I was a straight mid-calf length tweed skirt, lined with nylon. Her legs brushed inside me as she walked, exciting me with her salt flavoured skin. Outside I moved as she strode out. Her buttocks waggled me. I felt some resentment at being changed so secretly and wondered if I could retaliate. What could I do as a skirt?

    I tried to move independently. At first all I could do was flick my hem rather more than her legs were doing. I had a slit at the back for ease of movement. I closed it, wrapping the skirt tighter. I released the slit instantly before she could realise what I was doing. I waited for my chance. It came when she reached a hump in the sand. She'd have to stretch out to climb it. As she lifted her left leg I closed the slit and pulled the sides across each other, hobbling her. I pulled all of myself inwards lashing her legs together. She fell flat on her face!

    "Joss!" she spluttered, spitting out sand. "You did that on purpose!"

    I had. I'd enjoyed it. I still held her tight so that she couldn't stand up. Then I had another idea. I pulled myself in across her crotch. It was almost as if I had fingers on the skirt's material. I pushed her panties inside her. While she struggled to stand I massaged her clitoris. She gave up and let me play. She started to breathe rapidly and then she shouted at me.

    "Yes, Joss! Yes! Keep going! Don't stop!"

    I didn't. It took effort and strength. If I hadn't been a skirt I'd have been dripping with sweat. At last she climaxed before my muscles wore out. I collapsed into being an ordinary skirt again.

    Miranda stood up and brushed me down gently.

    "You know, Joss, that was wonderful. I didn't think that you could do so much while transformed. I'm glad that I made you into my skirt even if I didn't need to."

    She didn't need to? Why not? She answered the question I couldn't ask.

    "I could have dried us both with a simple spell. When we left my skirt and your clothes behind I used it. They're now clean and dry as if they'd just been washed. So I tricked you into stripping! You've repaid me. Are we quits now? Give me a sign if you agree, please."

    I hugged her legs briefly. It was all I could manage.

    "Thank you, Joss. Let's go back and restore you."

    She strode off towards the clothes. I relaxed around her and allowed myself to be lulled into a half sleep by her movements. It was nice being so close to her, feeling her muscles move. Her legs were still delicious. I clung briefly to her as she tried to pull me off. Then I was myself again, lying on her lap with my head cradled in her arms.

    "Tired, Joss?" she asked.

    "Yes. It was hard work moving that skirt. I need practice to build up some stamina."

    "You did brilliantly."

    She pressed my head against her breasts. That was bliss. I dozed there for a while until I was woken by her kisses.

    "Time to move, Joss. Someone's been past so I dressed you. Now it's getting dark. We ought to start back."

    I looked around. I was fully dressed in my clothes that were clean and dry. Resting against Miranda's breast I could see that the sun was setting. I roused myself to sit up. She stood up and helped me to stand.

    "I think I'd better drive. You look too tired."

    I agreed with her. I still felt like a limp rag. She walked me back to the car, helped me into the passenger seat. She slid behind the wheel of my sports car. Normally I'd have resented anyone driving my car but I trusted Miranda. I was right. She drove so competently that I slept almost all the way home yet we were there as quickly as my fastest driving. She was a better driver than me!


    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.


    I nodded.

    "I haven't told you that I'm the chief witch of my coven."

    "No. I'm not surprised. The way you control me I can't see you as anything else but a leader." I replied.

    "As chief witch I have a problem. Someone is challenging my position and she is more interested in controlling people and getting power in the community. So far the coven has worked for the good of the community. We work for peace, harmony and good neighbourliness..."

    "You make your coven sound just like the Chamber of Commerce!" I exclaimed.

    "In a way, we are" Miranda replied seriously. "We keep evil influences away from the town. We try to prevent things like bullying and vandalism by diverting the thoughts of someone who wants to do unpleasant things. We have a small influence but we use it for good. My challenger wants to change our direction. She wants us to benefit more directly from our powers and gain wealth and status for the witches."

    "Can you tell me who your challenger is?" I asked.

    "I shouldn't, but I need your help. She is Sandra Jones."

    I winced. Sandra Jones was the wife of the President of the Chamber of Commerce and a Justice of the Peace in her own right. She was already a powerful and influential member of the community - much more so than a couple of antique dealers.

    "She will be a hard nut to crack." I commented.

    "I know. She is nearly as powerful a witch as I am. She has more influence in the town and some of my coven have been tempted by her suggestions that we should get more out of being witches than just doing good."

    "Is that really all you get out of it?"

    "Well, no. We do get good sex out of it. We can increase the powers of our men and direct them towards pleasing us as well as themselves. A good sex life enhances our powers. I'm the only unmarried member of our coven at present. Sandra has been suggesting that I'm unmarried because I don't want to be. She implied that my powers are waning because I haven't been having sex. She's said that I'm more interested in seducing the other witches than in men."

    "It doesn't seem that way to me. You've done a good job of seducing me." I smiled wryly.

    "I didn't intend to seduce you so soon. I was prepared to wait for you. I wanted you in your own time but the crisis in the coven made me speed up the process. I had to have you now."

    "I'm glad you did." I said, hugging her.

    "I hope that your sister Emily won't be mad at me."

    "Why should she be?"

    "She wanted me to wait and not push you too hard. I have to tell you - I don't want to, but you have to know -" Miranda paused.

    "Yes? What about Emily?"

    "She's one of my coven."

    "She is? My sister's a witch?" I was stunned. Emily was a nice k**. We got on well together even after her marriage. I suppose I shouldn't think of her as a k**. She was only two years younger than me, the same age as Miranda, but Emily had two daughters and a son, all at school.

    "Yes. She's a good one and one of my staunchest supporters."

    "I'm sure she'll forgive you. It's not as if you used witchcraft to attract me..." I stopped.

    "I did! I used the attraction spell on my clothes - and on you."

    Miranda looked miserable. I hugged her again.

    "That spell wore off. You're not using any magic on me now, are you?"

    "No." said Miranda in a small voice.

    "That's it then. I love you. I don't need bewitching to want to be with you. I want to... " Then I stopped again. I had just been about to commit myself. I thought for a few seconds then made my mind up. I stood up, pulling Miranda to her feet.

    "Stand there." I said.

    "Why?" she asked. She was obviously puzzled.

    "Please?"

    "OK."

    I dropped to one knee in front of her and took her right hand.

    "Miranda, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

    She turned white. Her hand shook in mine. She looked down at me as if unable to believe what I had just asked. We remained posed for what seemed an eternity.

    "Do you really mean it?" she asked in a very small voice.

    "Yes." I said.

    I asked her again.

    "Miranda, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

    Her free arm whipped round my head and pulled it tightly to her.

    "Yes!" she shouted "Yes, Joss! Yes!"

    She dropped to her knees in front of me and kissed my face over and over with tears running down her cheeks. We hugged and kissed over and over again. I felt relief more than anything. I had staked everything on that question. Just before I asked it I had thought back over the whole time I had known Miranda from the time she and Emily had played together as toddlers. Never in that time had I known her do a mean or spiteful thing. She had been too close for me to appreciate. I knew that I wanted Miranda as a partner.

    Chapter 6: Resolution

    Miranda had agreed to be my wife. We had only been together for just over a day before I proposed. Yet I had no regrets. Miranda had been part of my life for all of hers. I had known her as my younger sister's playmate, school friend, and Emily's best friend as she had grown up. We may have been lovers for only a day but we had been acquaintances and friends for years.

    "Tomorrow we'll buy you an engagement ring." I announced.

    "We'll?" she queried.

    "I'll buy it. We'll choose it together. I want it to be a ring that you'll want to wear."

    "There's no need to wait until tomorrow." she said firmly "I know exactly the ring I want. It's in your shop."

    "Oh? Which one?" I thought I knew.

    "The Victorian gold band with inset diamonds that just happens to sit in the middle of your display. Doesn't it have an inscription inside?"

    "Yes. The inscription reads "Two are stronger than one"."

    "That's just how I feel. With you beside me I can face anything. Hand in hand we are more powerful than apart." Miranda grasped my hand and held it to her breast.

    "How do you mean, more powerful?" I asked.

    "Don't you know?"

    "Well, we'll be a better business together than apart..."

    Miranda kissed me. "Don't be silly! You are a wizard. I am a witch. Together we should be almost invincible."

    "I'm a wizard?"

    "Yes. It was almost inevitable since Emily is a witch. So is your mother. In her youth she was the head witch of her coven. Your father is a wizard. Didn't you know?"

    "No. I knew they did some odd things together but I hadn't realised why."

    "You are slow. Never mind. With my help and Emily's we'll soon have you using your powers."

    "I'm worried about this. How do I know that my powers will be for good?"

    "Of course they are. Emily and I, and your parents would have known if they weren't. You couldn't be yourself, Joss, if your powers weren't intended for the same ends as mine and Emily's."

    I thought about this. What "powers" did I have? What could I do? Miranda was still holding my hand. She answered as if I had spoken directly to her.

    "One of your powers is telepathy. When you think at me I can hear you inside my head. What else you can do we'll have to experiment and gradually teach you how to use aids such as spells."

    I had another thought. I directed it at Miranda. Although it was Sunday we hadn't been to church. We usually did.

    "We'll go tomorrow in the morning. We should make an appointment to see the Vicar anyway."

    She'd answered my thought! This was amazing! I tried again. This time I thought, "When shall we have the wedding? and please answer by thought, not speech."

    I heard Miranda's voice clearly inside me. "As soon as possible. We need to be together to defend ourselves and our community."

    "Special licence?" I spoke aloud.

    "We'll have to have an apparent reason to give out if we act that fast. Can you think of one?" she said.

    "Yes. Emily's going on holiday in three weeks time taking her family. They are going to stay in a cottage for the whole school holiday so they won't be back until September. We want her at the wedding so we've brought the wedding forward. How'll that do?"

    "Perfect! And we really DO want Emily at the wedding. She's going to be my Matron of Honour and her girls will be bridesmaids. All we need now is a Best Man for you."

    "How about Emily's husband Dan?" I asked "I've been friends with him for years. That would keep it all in the family. He's competent and if he's in charge the whole wedding should go smoothly."

    "He's ideal - if he'd do it. You know that he's a wizard as well?" added Miranda.

    "What! It seems that the whole ****** town is either a wizard or a witch." I exclaimed.

    "No. It's just that our parents are, our friends are - and our enemies."

    "Oh yes. You've got Sandra Jones to deal with. No! We've got her to deal with."

    "You are getting the idea, Joss. Your friends are my friends; your enemies are my enemies. My enemies are your enemies as well. Together we can beat them."

    "Let's get together as fast as possible then. I'm going to my shop to get that ring NOW. It should be on your finger tonight!"

    "That's a great idea but we'll go together."

    So we did. We drove to my shop. There among the antiques I put the ring firmly on her finger. I locked the shop and we drove back to Miranda's cottage. Her ringed hand rested on my shoulder as I drove.

    Chapter 7: Coupling

    Miranda's cat greeted both of us when we returned. She wound herself in and out of our legs and then leapt into my arms purring loudly.

    "See!" said Miranda "Even my cat approves of you."

    "Is she your familiar?" I asked jokingly.

    Miranda replied in a serious voice "Yes she is and no she isn't."

    "What does that mean?"

    Miranda giggled "I was pulling your leg. Blackie is just a cat. A good mouser and companion but nothing more. She's reminding me that it's her supper time. She thinks that making up to you might make me jealous."

    "Does it?"

    "Of course not. It just tells me that she wants something. Cats have simple needs."

    So she fed the cat. While she did I sat thinking about us. Tomorrow apart from opening our shops we had to set arrangements under way for a wedding at high speed. When Miranda returned she sat beside me.

    "You are too serious, Joss. Tomorrow we'll be busy but tonight..."

    She pulled my hand on to her breast and held it there. I just had time to feel that her nipple was erect ... then I started changing again. She'd fooled me. Her other hand was in her skirt pocket so I'd be something small but what? As I shrank she pulled her hand out of her pocket clutching a stick-on bra cup.

    She stripped with difficulty because she couldn't let go of me. When she was naked she stuck me on her right breast and the cup in her other hand was discarded. She pulled out another cup from her pocket and stuck it on her left breast. Of course! I was a copy of the right cup.

    This time I was inside out. I didn't know why but all I could see was her breast. I couldn't see beyond her soft smooth skin. As she adjusted me her nipple filled my mouth. Filled it! She stroked me gently. Her breast grew warmer and the nipple enlarged. I was sucking as hard as I could but my mouth was stretched to its limits. She wasn't mothering me; she was filling me with her love. I was so engrossed with her breast that I actually didn't notice as I changed back. The nipple shrank, the breast came further and further into my mouth until I was lying on her lap with her breast pressing down from above.

    Her legs wound around me as she moved me from her breast to her lips. Her glossy black hair enclosed my face as she lay on top of me. Her legs pulled me into her until I penetrated. Then we moved as one to her insistent need. She groaned into my mouth as she shuddered in passion. I found myself separated from our coupling and watching from above as we writhed together. I was a spectator to our lovemaking. I was fascinated at the sensation of being apart but together. Then Miranda's voice shouted in my head.

    "Come back, Joss! Now!"

    I dived into my body and then straight into orgasm. I erupted into Miranda. It was shattering! I'd been watching and then suddenly Miranda engulfed me. My consciousness went from detachment to full commitment. From outside us both to fully inside Miranda. She'd swallowed me whole! I was inside her body looking out as if I was behind her breasts and seeing through them. My body was wrapped in her being and every part of it was touching Miranda from the inside. She held me as if I was a baby in her womb - yet that wasn't quite it. A baby will eventually be born and be separate from the mother. I wouldn't. I was a permanent part of Miranda. Then I discovered that she was inside me. All of Miranda was part of me; all of me was part of Miranda. That realisation was too much. I fainted.

    Chapter 8: Marriage is essential.

    I came to with my head on Miranda's shoulder. She was stroking my hair gently.

    "Did you feel it too?" I thought. I didn't have to think AT her any more.

    "Yes" her thought replied. "I think that we are married now except..."

    I spoke, breaking into her thought.

    "I agree. Yet it is essential that we get married in church."

    I don't know why I said that but I knew it was true.

    Her reply was spoken as well.

    "Yes. It is. I don't know how you knew but we HAVE to get married and before the next meeting of the coven. We have to be spiritually joined so "that it should never be lawful to put asunder those whom Thou by matrimony have made one"."

    I recognised the words of the marriage service and I spoke more of it:

    "Send Thy blessing upon these Thy servants: that they obeying Thy will, and always being in safety under Thy protection, may abide in Thy love until their lives' end: through Jesus Christ our Lord."

    We chorused "Amen" together.

    "Phew!" I said. "We've got to see the Vicar as early as possible tomorrow. There's a communion at seven a.m. We'll go."

    "OK. We'll go. But now?" Miranda asked.

    "Now I'm shattered. How about bed?"

    "Yes. I'm ready for bed."

    I detected a fleeting thought from her but ignored it. I should have known better!

    Chapter 9: Bed and then...

    We felt embarrassed at going to bed together. Why? We had been as intimate as we could be. Perhaps it was reaction against the powerful experience we'd been through.

    Miranda changed in the bathroom. She came to the bedroom in a high-necked long white cotton night-dress. It looked like a copy of a Victorian one. It was voluminous and very demure. I had my pyjama trousers on. At this time of year I normally slept nude so the trousers were a concession to our newfound modesty.

    We climbed into bed and she settled against my shoulder. Her night-dress wrapped around my legs. I felt warm and contented as I drifted off to sleep.

    Later that night I woke in the middle of a transformation. I was shrinking into Miranda's hand. I peered up at her.

    "Hello, Joss. Woken up, have you? I wanted you closer to me for the rest of the night so I decided to do something about it."

    As she spoke her hand grew larger and larger until I was held in it. She sat up hauling up the massive folds of her night-dress to her waist to reveal her bush. Then she thrust me deep inside. I was a tampon.

    I slid inside her warm cave and expanded. Her muscles settled around me and held me. It was warm, wet, dark. I couldn't DO anything so I relaxed and waited. I could hear her excited thoughts. She had really engulfed me! She was getting more and more excited because she had Joss wholly inside her physically not just emotionally. Her vagina squirmed about me with pulsating fervour. Then her thought came through clearly:

    "Joss! You are mine. I'm never letting you go. You are now right inside me where you belong and there you'll stay!"

    If I hadn't sensed the full meaning of her thought and its undercurrents I might have been worried. I didn't want to spend my whole life as a tampon. I was enjoying being one now, but for years? But I had the rest of the idea. She wanted me in her as a tampon for the rest of the night. She wanted me in her in the spiritual sense forever. She wanted both to last but also needed me to be beside her fighting evil together.

    Then I lost contact with her thoughts as she surrendered herself to the enjoyment of possessing me. She had retreated into physical pleasure. I soon followed unable to withstand the eroticism of being wholly inside her as her sex compressed me and her juices swamped into me. I absorbed as much as I could before I drowned in them. They had soaked right through me from end to end.

    For the rest of the night I lost myself in her. There was nothing beyond her vagina's walls. When she slept, so did I. When she stirred I was overwhelmed by her. When she climaxed, which she did again and again I was lost and even thinking was impossible.

    All I could do was experience her passion. Once as she relaxed I thought that sensory deprivation might be something like this but this was sensory overload.

    How long did it last? Hours, days, years - I couldn't tell. I had no reference points. When she was sleeping I was lulled by the pulse of her blood flowing through the walls around me. When she was enjoying me I was deafened, swamped, crushed, swallowed.

    Her fingers crept in to find me and pulled me out. The light blinded me. While she still held me I couldn't change from the limp soggy remain that was left. Still holding me she muttered the spell.

    I was standing before her soaked from head to toe in her juices. My hair was plastered flat. I was dripping litres on to the carpet.

    "Good morning, Joss. I think you need a shower before we go to church."

    She kissed me even though I was a revolting object.

    Chapter 10 The Vicar

    I took that shower and dressed formally for church.

    The vicar looked at us quizzically as we joined Monday's usual tiny congregation. Afterwards he joked "Missed me yesterday?"

    I replied "We were busy with other things. Now we need to talk to you."

    The vicar's eyebrows lifted perceptibly at the word "we". He looked at our clasped hands.

    "I think you do. Join me now for a cup of tea?"

    "Yes, thank you. We will." Miranda answered for us.

    The vicar's eyebrows twitched again. First I had spoken for both, now she had.

    "You go on to the vicarage. I'll join you there as soon as I've changed."

    "We'll wait for you here, if that's OK." I said.

    "Certainly." the vicar replied.

    We walked through the graveyard, pausing at our grandparents' graves that were close together. Our ancestors' graves were all around the church. Silently we both asked their blessing on our union. It seemed that they gave it.

    The vicar walked up behind us in his everyday suit.

    "It is good to remember those whose fight is done." he said.

    We looked at each other, then back at him.

    "Yes. I know. You two have a fight ahead of you. I'll be praying for you to win. Now, shall we go?"

    We followed him to the vicarage. His wife seemed unsurprised that we had come. She left after pouring the tea for us.

    "Well? You wanted to see me?"

    We spoke as one.

    "We want to get married."

    "I do marriages," His eyes twinkled at us. "I presume you want to get married in our church."

    "Yes" we chorused.

    "As you are parishioners and regular attenders - except yesterday - for which I'll forgive you, there should be no problem."

    I let Miranda speak.

    "We need to get married as soon as possible," she blurted out.

    The vicar's eyebrows lifted again. He looked pointedly at Miranda's slim figure.

    "I can see that speed is not required for the usual reason."

    I cut in.

    "You said that we had a fight ahead of us. We have. We have to be together to be ready for that fight."

    "Yes. And when is that fight?"

    "In three weeks time." Miranda said.

    "So soon? That doesn't give the three Sundays for the normal banns. It will have to be by a common licence. That can be done."

    The vicar seemed amused by us.

    "And why has it taken you two all this time to decide that you want to get married in a hurry?"

    "I only asked her yesterday!" I protested.

    "I knew that you would ask her sometime. So did both sets of parents and most of the village. I ask again - why so long?"

    "You'd better answer that, Joss," said Miranda. "I've wanted you for years."

    "Well... " I paused "Until Saturday evening I hadn't really seen Miranda as she is. Now I know what I've been blind to."

    The vicar became serious.

    "I think that you, Joss, ought to consider that someone or some people have had an interest in keeping you "blind" to Miranda. Your marriage will be a blow to them. You may not find it easy to get to the altar for the service because they will use everything they can to stop the marriage. If I could, I'd marry you now, this minute. I can't but I'll do it as soon as possible, with God's help."

    "You mean they've been trying to stop us getting together?" I asked.

    "Yes, they have. They've been fairly successful until now, haven't they?" he replied. "It was a good move to come to this morning's service. They wouldn't have been expecting that because it's outside your normal routine. They may not even know now that you have come together. Is there any reason why they should?"

    Miranda looked at the ring on her finger. So did I.

    She replied "I don't think anyone in the town has seen us together until the service this morning. No one else has seen us since Joss proposed and I accepted. The last "someone" might have seen was Joss and I leaving the Chamber of Commerce's dinner dance on Saturday evening. Then we weren't engaged or even..."

    "Lovers?" The vicar twinkled again. "Perhaps they are still unaware. You two have been partners at dinner dances before, haven't you? Was there anything different this time?"

    "The tango!" I blurted.

    "Oh... that tango." Miranda blushed. "That was out of character, wasn't it, Joss?"

    "I'll say. We danced it as if we were welded together. Anyone watching would have thought..."

    Miranda chipped in:

    "Who was watching? Many of the principals were elsewhere... I don't think any of "them" were in the room for that dance. None of our other dances would have warned them."

    "So they might still not know." the vicar concluded. "Let's act as if they don't. I won't ask you to take off that ring, Miranda, but can you cover it? A glove? A plaster?"

    "It's too hot for a glove. It'll have to be a plaster." she stated.

    "I'll get one now." The vicar left.

    Miranda and I looked at each other. If they had been preventing us getting together, what would they do to stop our marriage?

    The vicar's plaster soon covered the evidence.

    "I wish it was as easy to conceal your new relationship." the vicar complained. "It is so obvious that anyone seeing you would know that something has finally happened with you two. I have it! You'll have to go away. Drop right out of sight. Let's see..."

    I realised that he was right. If we were not around we might be able to conceal everything until the eve of the wedding.

    "We'd have to appear to be apart." I said.

    "Yes. We've shut our shops before for Antique Fairs." said Miranda.

    "But not at the same time. I looked after your shop or you looked after mine." I retorted. "It would be a change for both to be shut at once."

    "We can think of something. There's an antique fair in London this week, isn't there?"

    "There is nearly every week. I think there's three this week."

    "So... You can go to London for the fairs - no need to say which one - and I could go antique hunting in... Holland. How about that?"

    "That sounds plausible to me." said the vicar "So it should satisfy the town. You can't be seen leaving together and neither of you would take your cars to London or Holland. If you leave them behind no one would suspect that you are together."

    "We'll need to contact you about the wedding arrangements. If Emily acts for us - would that do?" asked Miranda.

    "Emily is a sensible young lady. She would do."

    "I'll go to see her as soon as I've put a notice on the shop." I said. "Her c***dren will be at school before I get to her."

    "I'll do a notice for my shop later. We need to agree a place to meet up, carrying suitcases. How about under the clock at Waterloo?" asked Miranda.

    "A bit too obvious. Anyone from this town going to London meets there. How about the steps of St Pauls? Then we can take a taxi to anywhere."

    "OK. St Pauls it is. 2pm today." Miranda stopped "Holland won't do. If I were going to Holland I'd get traveller's cheques. One of the opposition works in my bank. She'd notice if I didn't. Oh. And that means I can't use a cash card machine. She'd know where I was. This could be difficult."

    "Not for me. I have Internet banking. They have no connection with anyone in this town. They wouldn't care if I drew cash in Brighton or Beijing as long as there was money in my account. Why not get traveller's cheques anyway but in London? Perhaps you didn't have time to go to your local branch. Your bank account here will just show the withdrawal in London. The London bank won't care where you cash the traveller's cheques nor whether they are in Sterling or Euros."

    "You seem to be getting the idea," said the vicar. "But if you are going to be at St Pauls by 2pm you had better get packing - and use different trains. You'll need to go to the Registrar's Office for the common licence. It is just beside the station. I'll set things moving for the wedding once you've completed a few forms. Then I'll work through Emily."

    We filled the forms but at the vicar's suggestion we made a significant change. Instead of being married in the village church we would get married in the church in the next much smaller village. The vicar is responsible for three churches in a combined parish. The other church is just as large but he holds services there only twice a month with an average congregation of half a dozen old ladies. We would get married there on Saturday after next with just a few friends. The coven's meeting on the night of the full moon would be a few days later. If we were lucky only Miranda's allies in the coven would know that we had married. I paid the Vicar his fee, then we left separately.

    ***** Emily greeted the news with a whoop of joy.

    "About time too, big brother. I'll fight your corner. So will Dan. He'll be pleased as Punch to be best man. I'll get both sets of parents lined up as well. We'll communicate by e-mail. The others - at least the local others -aren't that modern. I'm sure none of them are capable of hacking into a mail server - yet." I left after several hugs and sisterly best wishes. Emily had no doubt that Miranda was right for me.

    Chapter 11 London and Dover

    We met in London, on the steps of St Pauls, on time but only just. Both of us had found that closing our shops wasn't easily done. We had appointments to cancel, representatives to put off and events to re-schedule. Miranda had to arrange for a neighbour to feed the cat. In the end, after slipping into the Registrar's Office separately we both caught the same train. We thought that wouldn't matter as long as we weren't together. I was at the front of the train and was out of the station before Miranda had left the platform. She took a taxi. I went by underground. She got to St Pauls first.

    We sat on the steps like the tourists around us.

    "What do we do now?" Miranda asked.

    "We find somewhere to go that we have no connection with. Somewhere that no one who knows us would expect us to be. Somewhere neither of us have been to before."

    "That rules out a lot of places," she said thoughtfully. "We don't want to go too far."

    We sat and listed possible places in SouthEast England to each other. All of them had some connection to one of us. We had both travelled all over looking for antiques. Almost anywhere that had an antique shop was unsuitable. We might be noticeable in a small town but we had been to all the larger towns. Then I had a brainwave.

    "Have you ever stayed in Dover?"

    "No." said Miranda "I've been through it, but I've never stayed there. I don't think I've even been into the town only down and up Jubilee Way to the Eastern Docks."

    "Same as me. So how about Dover?"

    "OK. Shouldn't be difficult to get to."

    It wasn't. We took a taxi to Victoria Station and were in Dover in a couple of hours. We asked the taxi driver at the station to take us to a reasonable bed and breakfast. He used his mobile phone to find one with a vacant room and that was it. He told us that the full English breakfast at that Bed and Breakfast was worth having.

    We went out for a basic evening meal and then walked along the promenade. Dover Castle was spectacularly floodlit. We'd visit it tomorrow. The ferries provided moving interest as we strolled hand in hand. Their wash rippled the calm sea.

    That night we shared a king-size double bed. We lay beside each other and talked for a long time about what we wanted to do together. The coven's Sabbat was a large black cloud on the horizon. Anything we wanted to do after that seemed an impossible dream because so much depended on the result of that Sabbat. So we agreed to stop talking about the future and discuss now.

    "What powers do you have, Miranda?" I asked.

    "You know that I can use the transformation spell, but that is a recent addition. Most of my powers are with inanimate objects and I am best with clothing, and clothing I've worn is easiest. I'll give you an example."

    I heard her muttering softly. My pyjamas vanished and I was fully dressed in the clothes I had been wearing that day. She too was wearing her daytime clothes.

    Miranda muttered again. I was back in my pyjamas, she in her night-dress and our clothes were neatly folded. Mine were neater than I had left them.

    "See. That was an easy spell particularly as you are so receptive to me. You trust me, Joss, so I can do almost anything to you."

    Another whispered spell. I saw a flash of her naked body. I was tied inside her night-dress. My wrists were tied behind me with her bra, pantyhose was tied around my arms and legs outside the night-dress, her panties stuffed my mouth and my head was tightly wrapped in her skirt.

    "You see what I mean?" she giggled. "Or perhaps you can't see at present."

    The skirt lifted off my head and flew back to its hanger. The panties returned to the chair on her side of the bed.

    Miranda leant over and kissed me.

    "I told you I can do almost anything to you. How about this?"

    I felt the wrenching transformation as she changed me into something. What was I this time? I was small because Miranda was holding me between her finger and thumb. I watched helplessly as her night-dress reappeared on her body and her other clothes neatly folded themselves away.

    Miranda stretched me between her hands and fitted me over her hair. I was an Alice band. She settled herself to sleep. I enjoyed the perfume of her hair and I went to sleep lost in black glossy tresses.

    Chapter 12 First Day in Dover

    The next morning I woke up to the sound of the shower. I was back in my pyjamas and neatly tucked into the bed. When had Miranda changed me back?

    She came from the shower room with her silk dressing gown wrapped around her.

    "Morning, Joss. Sleep well?"

    "Yes, you witch. When did you change me back?"

    "When I woke up about half an hour ago. The shower's free now. Breakfast is in about twenty minutes. Is that long enough for you?"

    "Yes" I said, scrambling out of bed. I shaved, showered and dressed with a few minutes to spare. We went downstairs to see if the "Full English Breakfast" was as good as our landlady had claimed last night. The taxi driver had told us that this Bed and Breakfast was well known for its breakfasts. He was right. Not only was the breakfast full in the sense that there was everything on a very large plate, but the quality of the food and the cooking was a revelation.

    Miranda and I sat back stuffed to capacity. We would have to go for a long walk to compensate.

    "Well!" I said.

    "Not just well, that was brilliant," Miranda replied. "How about remaining here until we go back home?"

    "We'll need to take a lot of exercise or we'll put on weight," I protested.

    "I think we can do that. I'd like to stay."

    "OK. I agree."

    The landlady came in to see if we wanted more tea or toast. She was brunette, in her early forties, but still an attractive woman. Over her calf length skirt she was wearing a waist apron. Miranda looked at me. I nodded.

    "Mrs Owen?"

    "Yes, dear?"

    "We would like to stay longer. Is that possible?"

    "I think so. How long do you want to stay?"

    "Until Friday night after next, please. That is we would leave on the Saturday morning."

    "I'll just check the bookings list. Back in a tick, dear."

    Mrs Owen left the room. I wasn't sure that Miranda had the date right.

    "Saturday morning? We are getting married that afternoon. Can we get there in time?"

    "Of course we can, if we go by car."

    "But we left our cars behind."

    "We can hire one, or hire a car and driver. I saw an advert for chauffeur services to London Heathrow. It would be not so far as that to get back home. We could turn up at the church by hire car."

    I was not convinced but Miranda was definite so I subsided.

    Mrs Owen came back.

    "Yes dears, I can let you have the room until then. With breakfast every day?"

    "Yes please" we chorused.

    "The breakfast was wonderful," I added.

    "Right then. For a stay that long there is a twenty-five percent discount on the overnight charge. You can pay each day, or each week but I would prefer that you didn't leave the whole account to the last day."

    The implication seemed obvious. Someone in the past had left Mrs Owen with a large account owing.

    "Then we'll pay a week in advance, Mrs Owen," I said.

    "That's not necessary, dear," she replied.

    "Yes it is. We want to enjoy your breakfast without you worrying whether we can pay the bill."

    I worked out the amount, signed the appropriate amount of travellers' cheques and put them on the table by Mrs Owen.

    "There you are. That has paid until Saturday."

    Mrs Owen's reaction was odd. Her face paled. She swayed as she stood. I grabbed a chair and pushed it behind her. She sat down suddenly before she fell down.

    "What is it, Mrs Owen?" Miranda asked.

    "You don't know what this money means to me," she said.

    "Why? We know we are the only guests at the moment but surely there will be others?" Miranda asked.

    "Very few. Most of Dover's Bed and Breakfasts are used for asylum seekers. They provide a year-round income but I'm blacklisted for asylum seekers."

    "Why?" I asked.

    "Because my husband is in jail for smuggling asylum seekers from France. They won't put asylum seekers here in case my husband starts smuggling again."

    "But if he is in jail, he can't, can he?" I asked.

    "Bert is due out on parole from Wednesday."

    "Why did he smuggle people?" Miranda asked.

    "He didn't. But he was convicted because there were twenty people inside his truck. The prosecution said that he must have known. He didn't know. His employers set him up as the fall-guy for them. He was told to go to Calais to collect a trailer loaded with an empty container. He did. Bert checked that the container was sealed and loaded it on the ferry. When the ferry reached Dover the Immigration people had received an anonymous phone call. They stopped Bert and broke the seals to find the people. Most locals believe that Bert was innocent but he was convicted and sentenced to six months. He has served two and a half and now they are letting him out but the Bed and Breakfast business has been poor all that time."

    "Why is Bed and Breakfast so poor in Dover?" I asked.

    "Most travellers avoid Dover for overnight stays because so many Bed and Breakfasts and hotels are full of asylum seekers. Not only is it difficult to get reservations in Dover, but the asylum seekers put off families. Not because they are asylum seekers, but because there are so many of them. The accommodation is so heavily used that standards slip and so many people cause noise even when they try to be as quiet as possible. They don't want to cause difficulties. They just want to come to England for a new life. Bert and I are sympathetic to most of them. That did not help at his trial. He was known to associate with asylum seekers."

    "How desperately did you need the money?" Miranda asked.

    "The mortgage is due on Wednesday. Without it I could not have paid."

    "Aren't they sympathetic? Wouldn't they give you more time?" Miranda continued.

    "It is a commercial mortgage. They don't have to be as helpful as with a mortgage to buy a home. It would be the first payment I'd missed but I'm slightly overdrawn at the bank as well. The mortgage company would start asking questions about the business's future that I couldn't answer. If Bert can get a job we'll get along. If he can't we'll have to sell up and who would buy?"

    While she was talking I poured her a cup of tea. I passed it to her. She took it and then realised that she was sitting at the table with her guests. That wouldn't do. She started to stand up but I put my hand on her shoulder. She sat down again and burst into tears. Miranda jumped up and hugged Mrs Owen who sobbed on Miranda's shoulder.

    After a few seconds Mrs Owen composed herself.

    "What am I thinking of?" she asked "crying on a guest's shoulder isn't businesslike."

    Miranda giggled.

    "I don't mind. It makes a change from me crying on a man's shoulder."

    I looked at Miranda. I doubt she had ever cried on a man's shoulder but I wasn't going to contradict her.

    "I think we ought to introduce ourselves properly, Mrs Owen. I'm Miranda. He is Joss. We are getting married when we leave you."

    "I thought you weren't married or even honeymooners. You are too happy together. Sorry, you can call me Olive, if you like."

    "Thank you, Olive. Now we have solved your immediate problem and you have some money for a couple of weeks, what are we going to do?" I asked.

    "Nothing," Olive replied "It is my problem, not yours."

    "Have you tried selling yourself as free of asylum seekers?" I asked.

    "No. But I am, aren't I?"

    "Yes. So why not make a point of it?"

    Olive thought for a moment.

    "I suppose I could but how? I've no money for advertising."

    "You could tell the local Tourist Information Centres. They probably want to recommend Bed and Breakfasts suitable for families."

    "Perhaps."

    "We are going to the Dover one today. We'll tell them and see what they say. OK?"

    "Yes. Why not?" Olive brightened up.

    "OK. Then we had better get moving. We want to see the Castle today and do some shopping in the town."

    "Thank you, Joss. Thank you, Miranda. Do you want an evening meal?"

    Miranda nodded.

    "Perhaps tonight. We'll see after that. That will be extra on our bill, won't it?"

    "Well, yes, but I am a good cook and my prices are reasonable. I used to do meals in the evenings for non-residents but there haven't been any for a couple of months."

    "OK, Olive, we'll be back for this evening's meal. We'll see what effect we have on the Tourist Information Office."

    Olive left. Miranda and I walked to the Tourist Information Office and collected a handful of leaflets on local attractions. We asked the woman manageress if she knew of a Bed and Breakfast in Dover that didn't have asylum seekers. She stalled until we told her about Mrs Owen's.

    "Of course," the manageress said "Why didn't I think of that? She can't have asylum seekers. Her husband's conviction is still fresh in local memories. Almost everyone thinks that he was framed. I'll make sure that my staff recommend Mrs Owen. Are her breakfasts as good as they were?"

    We enthused about our breakfasts.

    "OK. Thank you. I'll tell the other local offices. I'll send them a fax today."

    We left, satisfied that we had made a start to help Olive.

    We took a taxi to the castle. We were still too full of breakfast. We spent several enjoyable hours there and called a taxi to take us back to the town centre. This time it was the same taxi driver that had recommended Olive. We tackled him about it.

    "It's like this. Bert is a mate. I know, and most of the town know, that he was wrongly convicted. He was helping those poor ******** who are here, not bringing them in."

    We told him that Olive needed guests to keep going.

    He agreed to put the word round the taxi drivers. We'd put another straw in the wind to try to help Olive. We'd even got talking to some American visitors at the Castle and told them about the size of our breakfast.

    Once we were in the town we looked for the Charity shops. Sometimes they could be useful sources of small antiques. We had both thought of other things that we could buy from Charity shops. In the first one, both our hands landed on the same item.

    "Joss!" Miranda hissed at me. "You are not supposed to buy things like this."

    "This" was a long white silk night-dress.

    "I just thought..." I started to whisper.

    Miranda cut in "Let me buy it. We need to talk - but not in here."

    She bought it. We went into a coffee shop and sat in a quiet corner.

    "Now, Joss," Miranda started "you wanted to buy something for me?"

    "Yes. I thought you could use it."

    "I had the same idea. Either you have to let me buy things like that, or you had better be on your own in the shop. It is embarrassing if you buy a night-dress with me present."

    "I'll say it is."

    "I meant embarrassing for me."

    "Sorry, Miranda. I didn't think of that."

    "So this is what we'll do. You go down the left side of the street, I'll go down the right, then we swap over. Then we meet back here. Is that OK with you?"

    "I suppose so. I'd rather be with you."

    "But then we wouldn't have any surprises for each other. Let's try it this today."

    We did. We met back at the coffee shop after an hour. We were both carrying several bags and most of the charity shops had closed for the day. We sat back down in the same secluded corner.

    "Phew!" Miranda puffed. "I miss my car. I could have unloaded several times."

    "Me too. It is a nuisance to have to carry everything around. The bags get in the way in the next shop."

    "I suppose we couldn't hire a car?"

    "It might give us away. We would have to give our names and addresses and bank details."

    "Oh yes. That could blow our "separate" trips. But I'd still like a car. If we go on shopping like this we'll have to have one."

    "I wonder..." I said.

    "Come on, out with it. I can see that you have a solution."

    "Not today, perhaps, but tomorrow."

    "Well?"

    "We passed a car sales forecourt. They had some cheap trade-in cars at the back. One of those would be cheaper than hiring a car for three weeks and no paperwork to go through a bank. The registration details would go to Swansea and not come back for a month or two. The insurance I can arrange by telephone. I'd just add it as a second car. The cover note would go home to wait until I return. Emily is collecting my post but if anyone noticed it, it would look the same as any normal letter from my insurers. I think that would work..."

    "Let's go for it, Joss. I'd like to explore this area while we are here. If we had a car we might even find some antiques."

    "Whose antiques? That might be a cause of conflict between us. Are they yours or mine?"

    "Don't be silly, Joss. Once we are married we should merge the businesses as well. Not yours, not mine, but ours. Our shops are side by side. We could put a door between them. Then either one of us could run both."

    "I hadn't thought of that. It makes sense."

    Miranda's hand reached under the table and held mine.

    "Finish your coffee, Joss. I want to get back to Olive's and try out some of our purchases before dinner."

    We struggled back to Mrs Owen's Bed and Breakfast. We saw no sign of her as we entered. We dropped our shopping in our room and went looking for Olive because we had forgotten to ask when dinner would be.

    We reached the hall and Olive came out to see us. She was smiling and kissed us both on the cheeks.

    "You've done it!" she said.

    "Done what?" I asked.

    "Told the Tourist Information Centre about me."

    "We said we would, Olive."

    "But the result is that I have four bookings for tonight, and thirty six more overnights booked for the next ten days. A few more days like this and I'll have to put up the "No Vacancy" sign."

    Olive threw her arms round both of us and squeezed us in a hug.

    "And one other thing is sorted out. You know the taxi driver who brought you here?"

    I nodded.

    "He's going to collect Bert from Canterbury Prison on Wednesday morning. So I don't have to worry about how Bert gets here. I didn't want him to have to make his own way here."

    "I'm glad about that."

    "I've been so excited that I'm sorry that dinner won't be ready for another hour. I hope you don't mind."

    "Of course not, Olive. That gives us time to unpack our shopping." Miranda replied.

    "See you in an hour then."

    Olive went back towards the kitchen humming the Mozart aria "Batti batti".

    Miranda and I smiled at each other. We clasped hands and went back to our room.

    We decided to leave our purchases until after dinner so we discussed what we would do for the week. It was not very fruitful. Would we have a car? If we had, then we could visit a much wider range of attractions. If we had to rely on public transport then our options were very limited.

    Dinner was very traditional. It was Brown Windsor soup followed by Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding. Olive had produced a mouth-watering sensation from these hackneyed recipes. We just enjoyed everything. The beef was succulent, the roast potatoes wonderfully crisp with melting insides, the Yorkshire Puddings were the best we had ever eaten. Our enjoyment showed and Olive basked in our approval. The pudding was a syrup sponge with custard. We had to decline the cheese board. We were too full and too satisfied.

    After thanking Olive we went for a walk to Dover's seafront again. We strolled from one end to the other and back again just enjoying the gentle sound of the sea and the sight of the almost continuous procession of ferries. We came back to Olive's nearly at midnight.

    We were too tired to explore our purchases so we climbed into bed. Miranda snuggled up to me and went to sleep with her head on my shoulder. Within a few minutes I was asleep as well.

    I woke up wrapped around Miranda. She had turned me into her night-dress. I snuggled myself around her and held her tightly until she woke up.

    "Hey, Joss, don't hold me so tight. You are supposed to cover me, not to wrap me up like an Egyptian Mummy."

    I relaxed and stroked her body. I slithered around her breasts and tickled her nipples. She was getting more and more aroused as I worked on her. Her nipples were totally erect when I was transformed back lying underneath her but upside down. My fingers were gripping her nipples and my head was buried between her legs probing with my tongue. Her hands clamped on the back of my head and forced me deeper. Then she let go and a small trickle of her juices slid into my mouth. I swallowed and then gasped as her lips covered my erection and sucked. She bobbed up and down my shaft and ground her pussy over my face. I came into her hungry lips and spluttered as her trickle became a small flood across my mouth and nose.

    Miranda rolled off me.

    "That was a nice way to wake up. Thank you, Joss."

    "Thank YOU, Miranda. How did you..? No, I'd suppose I ought not to ask."

    "Ought not to ask what, Joss?" She winked at me.

    "Ought not to ask how you came to be so good..."

    "Perhaps I read about it in a book?"

    "Perhaps you did."

    I didn't want to know. I just appreciated what she'd done to me. We were not virgins. We had experience but in a small community we were safer if we did not name names.

    Chapter 13 Buying a Car

    After another full breakfast we decided that if we were going to get a car then we should do it now. We walked to the used car lot and wandered around the old trade-ins. We were left alone for at least ten minutes before the lot owner came over to us. He looked puzzled.

    "Are you sure you are looking at the right part of my stock?" he asked. "I have many good value cars, but these are the older ones that k**s usually buy as their first motors."

    "I know," I replied "We have reasonable cars but we are unexpectedly in Dover for a couple of weeks without them. We thought that buying an old car would be cheaper than hiring for that time."

    "I see. It might be. It depends on the insurance. You already have insurance on your other car?"

    "Yes. I thought I could put another car on it for a couple of weeks."

    "You probably could. It shouldn't cost much more than the administration fee. What sort of car have you got?"

    "I've got two. A sports car and an MPV."

    "I've just got an MPV," added Miranda.

    "Which models?" the salesman asked.

    We told him. He nodded.

    "In that case your insurers might let you have cover free. Now let us see what might suit you. You just want the car for two or three weeks? And reliability would be more important than long term viability?"

    I nodded.

    "Then I think I have just the thing. It is a very old Volvo estate. It is taxed and tested for a month but it has terminal rust from the sea. The last owner kept it on the seafront and it was frequently covered by spray. Mechanically it is very sound but the bodywork needs far too much work. It isn't worth the work to repair the rust, but everything works. It isn't out here. It is at the back of the workshop. I was thinking of breaking it for the engine and gearbox but it is such an old model that I doubt even breaking is viable. Come and have a look."

    We followed him through a passageway between his office and the workshop. There it was. The shape gave its age. The wings had several holes covered with duct tape. The sunroof was sealed with duct tape. I peered through the dirty windows. Inside looked immaculate.

    The salesman opened the door and released the bonnet (hood). The engine compartment was clean and oil free. The six cylinder engine looked almost factory fresh. He shut the bonnet again, sat in the driver's seat and started the car. It purred into life. I looked back at the exhaust. No blue smoke. He grinned.

    "I told you it was mechanically sound. Bodily? Not a hope."

    "How much?" I asked.

    "As it is? One hundred pounds. Make it another fiver and we'll clean the outside so you can see out. Take us about an hour to do that. What do you think?"

    I looked at Miranda. She nodded.

    "Yes, thank you. We'll take it, and the clean."

    "OK. If you go to the office, I'll get one of the lads to start cleaning it. We can sort out the paperwork in no time."

    Miranda and I walked to the office. The salesman went into the workshop. He joined us in a minute.

    I signed the documentation, paid the one hundred and five pounds, then we left, intending to return in an hour.

    "Are you sure that this is safe?" Miranda asked. "He knows your address now."

    "If the others can find us on a used car lot in Dover when they think we are out of the country, then they can find us anywhere and leaving home was a waste of time." I replied. "Now to arrange the insurance."

    I dialled my insurers on my mobile (or rather Emily's). They made it very easy. It cost me fifteen pounds to get temporary cover for both of us to drive the Volvo for thirty days. The girl at the call centre laughed when I told her the value. The cover was fully comprehensive, like that on my other cars, but the excess was two hundred pounds - twice the value of the Volvo.

    Miranda and I explored a different part of Dover's shopping area. We found two charity shops close together. We visited both, passing each other in between. We met up again with two bags each.

    "What did you get?" she asked. "I thought I had got everything worthwhile in the shop I visited first."

    "I'm not saying, it would spoil the surprise."

    "I suppose it would. Shall we have a coffee? We still have some time before the car is ready. We can discuss what we will do with the rest of the day now we have a car."

    We went to a coffee shop. We agreed that it would be sensible not to go too far until we were sure about the car, so we decided to go to Sandgate, just beyond Folkestone, which has a number of antique shops but we had never been there.

    We collected the Volvo, drove to a garage and filled the tank. Then we took the A20 out of Dover, went around Folkestone's town centre to the A259 towards Sandgate. In Sandgate I parked the car and we started to walk along the main street.

    Yes, there were a number of antique shops, some of whose names we recognised, but almost all were shut or required a telephone call if you wanted to see the stock. There was one open but Miranda hurried me past the door.

    "What...?" I protested.

    "Keep walking!" she hissed at me.

    A few yards further on she dragged me into a side street leading to the sea. We stopped at the sea wall.

    "Joss. That was a near disaster. In the only shop that was open the dealer is one of my customers. He would have recognised me. I think he is one of your customers as well. It would be bad enough if he recognised one of us, but both of us together and looking like honeymooners as Olive puts it - he couldn't keep that quiet."

    "Oh ****," I said, "That means we have to avoid all antique shops. What are we going to do? I thought that we could put a fair amount of antiques in a Volvo estate."

    Miranda flung her arms around my shoulders and kissed me hard. When she let me breathe again she said:

    "It looks as if we have to have a real holiday. If we look like honeymooners, then let's behave as if we are."

    I looked at her. Her eyes were shining and she smiled at me.

    "Yes. How do honeymooners behave, exactly?"

    Miranda laughed. "They spend most of their time in bed. When they are not in bed they wrap themselves around each other like this."

    Her arms circled my waist. She snuggled up to me and rested her head on my shoulder.

    "I think I might enjoy this," I said, returning her hug.

    "Then we should leave Sandgate now, before any dealer recognises us. I think we can get back to the car along the sea wall without passing any shops."

    We did. As soon as we were in the Volvo Miranda reached inside one of the carrier bags and produced a silk headscarf. She wrapped it over her forehead and tied under her hair at the back. She had never worn a headscarf that way. She passed me a flat checked cap. I put it on. I never wore flat caps.

    We drove West from Sandgate along the A259 to the outskirts of Hythe. We took the road by the sea wall and parked. Then we walked arm in arm along the almost deserted promenade towards the Martello Towers. We walked a long way but the towers still seemed in the far distance so we turned round and walked back to the car.

    We sat down.

    "Is there anywhere really quiet and secluded near here?" Miranda asked.

    I thought for a few seconds.

    "Yes. I'll just check a map."

    I looked at the map that had been left in the glove compartment.

    "Yes. About ten or fifteen minutes away."

    "Then go there. I want to show you my purchases."

    I shrugged my shoulders. What was Miranda up to?

    I drove up the hill away from Hythe, crossed the M20 and climbed again. Soon I turned off the minor road into woodland. There was the forest car park marked on the map. I pulled into a space screened by bushes.

    "This do?" I asked.

    "Just right. Now, do the rear seats fold down?"

    "Probably they still do. I'll try."

    It was a struggle because the seats hadn't been folded for some time but I managed it. Then I remembered that I had purchased a couple of blankets to sit on if we had a picnic. I spread them out over the flat area in the back of the Volvo.

    "Madam, your command is fulfilled."

    "Thank you, sir. Climb in the back."

    We got in and lay down. There was enough room for me to lie flat. Miranda rolled on top of me and kissed me. I responded. One thing led to another. Soon we were naked under a blanket and she was riding me to a climax. I was trying to hold back so that she came first but she grabbed her head scarf and covered my face with it. Even though she had only worn it for a few hours it was full of her scent. That did it! I could not hold on and thrust hard into her. As I relaxed I was aware of her hands reaching into a bag of her purchases.

    Then I was being changed. It is always an unpleasant sensation but the rewards Miranda gives me make me endure it. What was I to be this time?

    "While you were in one of the Charity shops I visited Dover's sex shop. How do you like yourself as a dildo?"

    I was. I barely had time to appreciate what she had done before she thrust me deep inside her. I heard her faintly.

    "It came with a harness. Once I get it on you will be held in place and I can wear you under my clothes."

    I felt a leather pad pushing at my base. I slid wholly inside her. Then I was aware of her getting dressed. I was deafened by the sound of her pulse and squeezed by her muscles. I could feel her movements as she climbed out of the back of the car, adjusted the driving seat and started the car.

    This was weird. Miranda wholly enclosed me yet aware of her movements as she drove. I liked it whenever she depressed the clutch to change gear. Each time she pushed the clutch the walls of her vagina contracted around me as she tensed her leg.

    She talked at me as she drove. She was very faint until I remembered my telepathic powers. Using them I could think at her and hear her reply as clearly as if we were side by side in a quiet room.

    "Why?" I asked.

    "It is safer if we are not seen together, at least while we look as we do. We are too recognisable. I'm going back to Hythe to have a make-over. Then if we are seen together they might recognise you but not me. You are single so if you are seen with a woman, who is NOT me, no one will think anything of it. You might be bored waiting for me but I do not think you mind being in there, do you?"

    "No, Miranda. I love being inside you. As a dildo I can do things that I had better not try while you are driving. I think I will wait until you are being made-over."

    "Don't do too much even then, please, Joss. I don't want to jump out of the chair."

    "OK. I'll consult you before doing anything. You have only to think at me, not talk."

    "That's what I'm doing now. I stopped talking when you started using telepathy. Hold it. I am approaching Hythe. I need to park. I'll "talk" again when I've done it."

    I waited. As she parked the car she pressed the clutch over and over. I nearly came by the time she had wriggled the Volvo into a space.

    "Joss! I could feel you getting over excited. I nearly hit the car behind."

    "Sorry, Miranda. Your movements are nearly too much for me."

    Then she got out of the car and started walking. That did it. I climaxed over and over again, yet because I was a dildo I never lost my hardness. I was almost u*********s from ecstasy when she entered a beauty salon. I wasn't aware of what she said to the receptionist.

    While she was being treated to a new hair style and makeover I tried to arouse her. Her thought almost screamed in my head to stop. I relaxed and dozed for a couple of hours. I was still asleep when she withdrew me after finding a quiet car park.

    Even I found it difficult to recognise the new Miranda. Her hair was softly waved with dark red highlights. Her make up was subtly different yet totally unlike anything she had used before. She had changed into a flowing summer dress with a white leather belt emphasising her curves. This Miranda was incredibly attractive.

    We changed me too. I wore fawn trousers and a brass buttoned blazer. I thought I looked too much like a theatrical version of a cad or rotter. Whatever I looked like, I didn't look like me.

    We startled Olive when we returned to Dover.

    "I like the change in you, Miranda," she said bluntly, "but Joss? I don't think it's him."

    "It's not supposed to be him," Miranda giggled. "We don't want people to recognise the two of us together."

    "They won't," Olive said as she retreated to her kitchen, "but I preferred him as he was..."

    Chapter 14 Omissions

    I'm not going to tell about all the events of our stay in Dover. Looking back it was a wonderful diversion in which we discovered each other as people and practitioners of magic.

    Miranda demonstrated her skills. I tried to discover my own with her help.

    The weeks passed too quickly. On the final Saturday morning Olive was reluctant to let us go. She lent Miranda a blue garter for the wedding. We promised to return to Dover some day and return the garter.

    The Volvo performed perfectly. We arrived at the small church in ample time. Miranda changed into the wedding dress she had bought in one of Dover's charity shops. I wore a hired morning suit.

    The wedding was very quiet and just for the few. Despite that we celebrated our union with panache. The choir, arranged by Dan from another village, sang beautifully.

    We deferred the reception until after the coven's sabbat. We needed to surprise Sandra Jones and her supporters. Once we had won we could celebrate. Until then, too much was at stake for us to feel like celebration.

    Miranda will narrate the next two chapters. I was an actor in the drama. She was the principal.

    Chapter 15 The Coven Meets

    I, Miranda, am a witch in trouble. I am close to being forced out of my coven for not using enough witchcraft and for ignoring the control of men which is the coven's main purpose. Some of the witches want to turn the coven over to Black Magic. I and my friends want to stop this. Are there enough of us?

    Since the last time the coven met I have been busy. I found two old spells.

    One transforms a man into a copy of any item of feminine attire IF the spell is said or thought as woman touches the man while holding the item. The spell lasts as long as the transformed man is in contact with her bare skin or until she stops the spell.

    The other spell turns the woman herself into an animated item of female attire. This spell must be made while a man is in the room. Then within five minutes she must use the item to control the man or she will turn back into herself. She can stop the spell by thinking.

    I attracted Joss. Actually I probably didn't need to do anything more than normal feminine wiles but I didn't know that. In the last couple of weeks I have been using the first spell on Joss repeatedly. He surprised me by proposing and we have been married two whole days. I hope that no one connected to the coven knows about the marriage except Joss' sister Emily and Emily's husband Dan. Now I have to face the coven. I must persuade the other witches that I have been using witchcraft and am controlling at least one man - Joss. Joss is now my husband but he is also a willing partner and a wizard himself.

    He didn't know he was a wizard until I got going on him. I suspected that he might be because his parents were wizard and witch and his sister Emily is one of my coven. Emily and I are allies working to keep the coven away from Black Magic.

    The coven met at my cottage as they usually do every full moon. At my suggestion each witch brought a man and the list of feminine items I'd given them. The men had been told that the women were arranging a surprise for them. Some of the witches were convinced that I was wasting their time.

    THE WITCHES ARRIVE

    As each witch arrived Joss and I greeted them and the men they brought with them. The men went to the bar where Dan, Joss's brother-in-law, served drinks. The women went through to my converted stables where they usually met.

    Sandra Jones was the last to arrive, dragging her reluctant husband Gerald.

    "I hope this won't be a waste of time, Miranda." Sandra said, "That might be unpleasant for you."

    "Don't worry, Sandra. I think even you will be surprised."

    "I'd better be, or..."

    "I don't think there will be any "or"" I said.

    Sandra glared at me as she went through to the stables.

    "That's it, Joss. They're all here. Nearly time for your act."

    "OK, Miranda."

    "I'll send Emily out to get you when I'm ready."

    Joss went towards the bar while I followed after Sandra.

    In the converted stable I looked at the assembled coven of thirteen witches. We were a mixed bunch of women who superficially had little in common. Our ages ranged from early 20s to mid 50s. I re-calculated the numbers of allies and enemies. I had three on my side of whom Emily was my best. Sandra was the "enemy". She also had three supporters. With ourselves that meant we had four votes each. Five witches were uncommitted. For me to be expelled seven witches had to vote against me. For me to stop Sandra turning the coven towards Black Magic, seven had to vote against her proposal. The two items on the agenda were not necessarily linked. I could be expelled but they might not turn to Black Magic. I might survive but the coven could still choose Black Magic.

    At the last meeting of the coven I had been given an ultimatum: I must perform some magic and demonstrate control of a man in front of the coven. If not...

    Veronica called us to order.

    "Time to start! We will not begin our rituals until after we have dealt with the outstanding matters from our last sabbat. Miranda has an opportunity now to demonstrate that she is a practising member of our coven by performing some witchcraft and controlling a man in front of us. Then we will discuss and vote the two motions put before us by Sandra. OK?"

    There were nods from most.

    "Right, Miranda. It is time for your demonstration."

    "Thank you, Veronica. Emily, will you please fetch Joss for me?"

    "Yes, Miranda."

    Emily left and soon returned with her brother Joss. Joss looked haughtily round at the assembled coven. Then he crossed the room to me, knelt before me and kissed my shoe.

    "That's not enough!" hissed Sandra.

    "Wait!" ordered Veronica.

    "Joss. Please go round the room and kiss the feet of everyone here." I asked.

    Joss started to stand up.

    "No! Not like that! Crawl on your hands and knees!"

    Joss obeyed. Most of the witches removed their shoes. Sandra shoved her stocking-clad toes in Joss' mouth and ordered him to suck them. He did.

    When he came back to me I patted the seat beside me.

    "Sit here Joss. Hold my left hand."

    He did. With my right hand I picked up a plain blue silk headscarf.

    "Now. I am going to turn Joss into a replica of this scarf. He knows what is coming because I've transformed him before. When I transform him back he'll be naked. I presume that won't bother anyone?"

    "No," said most.

    "No. But I'll believe it when I see it." said Sandra.

    "Ready, Joss?"

    Joss nodded looking suitably worried.

    I said the spell very quietly so no one except perhaps Emily could hear exactly what I said. Joss began to shrink inside his clothes. When he had transformed I lifted him up to show that he was an exact copy of the scarf in my right hand. His clothes lay in a heap beside me.

    "OK. I've made Joss into a copy of this scarf."

    I passed the original to Emily who felt it then passed it around.

    "While transformed, the man can hear you, and with practice can do things himself. Joss! Tie yourself in a knot!"

    I held Joss up by one corner. He pulled his opposite corner up then looped himself into a simple knot.

    "Untie yourself!"

    Joss untied himself.

    "Now. I can't let go of Joss. I'll explain the limitations of this spell later. Anyone want to examine Joss and give him commands to perform?"

    There was a rush, led by Sandra.

    Sandra grabbed Joss and crumpled him.

    "Here are my wrists. While Miranda holds the middle of the scarf in finger and thumb, tie yourself round my wrists." Sandra ordered.

    I held Joss between my finger and thumb and d****d him over Sandra's crossed wrists. While I held perfectly still Joss moved at a speed that was too fast to see. Sandra's wrists were tightly tied together. So tightly that the circulation of her hands was cut off.

    "Get him off me!" she yelled.

    "You admit that it is Joss doing this, not me?" I asked sweetly.

    "Yes. Yes! Just get him to untie me!" she screamed.

    "Joss. Release her!"

    Again Joss moved with blinding speed leaving Sandra rubbing her wrists.

    "Anyone else?" I asked.

    "I'd like a try." said Lydia. She was one of the uncommitted five.

    "Now, Joss," she said "I'd like you to wrap yourself round my head and tie yourself in a Grace Kelly style."

    I held Joss up to Lydia's head and settled him with my fingers lightly resting on top. He slowly d****d himself around Lydia's hair, caressing her. He slid round her face before wrapping under her chin and tying himself off behind her head.

    "Wow!" said Lydia. "That was an experience!"

    Joss pulled the sides of the scarf against her cheeks and stroked them.

    "That is brilliant," she said. "OK Joss. You can come off now."

    Joss untied himself and slowly slid off Lydia back into my hand. He made a real production of it, slithering around Lydia's neck, carelessly brushing her lips, stroking her cheeks. She was getting aroused by his touch. The others watched intently.

    "Any one else want to try Joss? Or do you want to try the spell on the men you've brought?" I asked.

    Veronica forestalled their answer.

    "I think that Miranda has amply demonstrated what she was asked to do. Before we accept her offer of the spell, we should deal with the motions on the agenda. Once those are decided we can spend most of this evening trying out Miranda's spell. Is that OK?"

    There was a general buzz of agreement.

    "Motion 1 : That Miranda be expelled from the coven. I'll take those AGAINST first." emphasised Veronica.

    Twelve hands went up then Sandra's hand reluctantly rose.

    "That motion is rejected. Motion 2 : That this coven consider changing to the use of Black Magic. Again I'll take those AGAINST first."

    Nine hands went up, shortly followed by Sandra and her three supporters.

    "That motion is rejected. I remind everyone that no similar motion can be proposed until a complete lunar year has passed. Now I declare the formal business closed. Before our sabbat starts at midnight I suggest that Miranda explains her spell and we try it out. OK?"

    Nods all round the room.

    "Miranda. The floor is yours."

    "Thank you. I have printed out the spell in its original medieval French and in a phonetic transcription that works just as well. As far as I know them, the limitations of the spell are added at the end. Emily, please pass the printouts around."

    Emily moved round the room giving out the single sheets of paper.

    "Briefly, the man stays transformed while in contact with your naked skin. Once that contact stops he reverts to his normal self as slowly as you saw Joss change into the scarf. If you say the spell he reverts instantly. I'd like to demonstrate."

    I walked over to Sandra and dropped Joss the scarf on her lap. I stepped back.

    "You can watch him change back."

    Joss gradually reappeared first baby sized but a small version of himself and grew to his full size sitting naked on Sandra's lap. He leant forward and kissed her. Then he got off her lap, dropped to his knees, lifted her hands one after the other and kissed each wrist slowly.

    "I'm sorry, Sandra, but Miranda asked me to give a convincing demonstration." Joss said.

    Sandra laughed. She likes having naked men about her.

    "Go away, Joss! Get back to your Mistress!"

    Joss walked back to me, watched by thirteen pairs of eyes.

    I continued:

    "You cannot change a man into the same object twice. A similar object such as another scarf, yes. There may be a time limit on this. I don't know. I haven't been using the spell long enough. I'm going to try again after a lunar month and if not after a season or a year."

    "How long can you keep a man transformed?" Veronica asked me.

    "'I don't know' is the honest answer. The longest I've had Joss transformed is most of a night. I think - but I'm not sure - that the transformation would last as long as he was in contact with your skin. There are hygiene problems about wearing something for weeks. I wouldn't want to wear a pair of panties for a month."

    Emily chipped in.

    "You can use the same item to change a different man."

    "Now, before you start on your men, anyone want to try with Joss?" I asked.

    Veronica jumped in.

    "Yes, please!"

    "Go and sit beside Veronica." I ordered Joss.

    Veronica held Joss' hand. Concealing her other hand under her skirt she read the spell. Joss started to transform into a pair of pale blue laced edged panties.

    "That's great," said Veronica. "Oops! How do I get my panties off and Joss on while still holding him?"

    "That's easy." I said. "While you take your panties off you put Joss somewhere next to your skin where he can't fall off. Then you can put him on. He'll be in continuous contact with your hands while you pull him on. When he's on the contact will be constant. I suggest that you stuff him down your cleavage while you take your panties off."

    The coven watched closely as Veronica stuffed Joss between her breasts. She reached down to grapple under her skirt and then stopped suddenly. She grabbed at her breasts.

    "Stop it Joss! I'll never get you on if you do that!" Veronica shouted. She seemed to be enjoying what he was doing.

    "What's he up to?" asked Emily.

    "He's nibbling my nipple!" Veronica jokingly complained. "I like it but he's distracting me. That's better. He's stopped now."

    She pulled out her panties from under her wide calf-length skirt. She took Joss from between her breasts, spread him out and eased him up her legs and around her hips. Then she sat down firmly with her hands on her skirt-covered knees.

    "Right, Joss. What can you do as a pair of panties?" she asked.

    She soon had her answer! She blushed. She lay back on the settee and relaxed. I knew what Joss was up to. He had done it to me. He was pulling the panties into her and fondling her. With practice he had made me have multiple orgasms but not in public. Veronica was torn between ecstasy and embarrassment. Finally the embarrassment won. She clutched the paper with the spell and just managed to say it.

    Veronica's skirt swelled like a balloon as Joss transformed back inside it. His legs grew from under the hem and resumed their normal size. Veronica lifted her skirt to reveal Joss with his face firmly wedged against her bare muff.

    "Phew!" she said, "That was just too much! I'll be careful with this spell."

    Joss sat back on his heels with a mischievous expression on his face.

    "Don't expect that from your men at first, ladies." he said, "This sort of thing needs practice."

    Joss came back and sat beside me. I patted his bare legs.

    "Well?" I asked "Are you ready to try it on the other men?"

    There was enthusiastic agreement.

    "Then Joss either ought to be dressed or transformed before they come in. We don't want to scare them off."

    There was some discussion - the result was in favour of Joss being transformed. I stripped down to the waist, held my bra and Joss. I turned him into a bra that I put on. Then I put my top back on. I was watched carefully by the others.

    "Emily, please ask the men to join us." I asked. "But before you do, I think we ought to tell them we are conducting an experiment. Each man will have to hold his woman's hand while we chant an 'incantation' together. OK?"

    And it was OK. The men came in, sat next to their partners, who held a hand while the other hand grasped their chosen feminine item. Most chose head scarves as an easy option to start with and easy to conceal from the men. Sandra had to be different of course.

    We chanted the spell in unison. The men changed. Joss changed back which split the seams on my top. He sat beside me watching as the women tried to order or persuade their men to perform.

    They had limited success. The men hadn't any warning that they were to become articles of female dress. Some were just angry. They hadn't had Joss' practice, nor were they wizards. Eventually most of the scarves managed a shaky knot or two.

    Sandra's husband Gerald got the hang of movement quickly. She'd turned him into a full-length ballgown with built in bustiere and trailing panels from the shoulders. As she tried to put him on he wrapped the bustiere around her outside her arms and clamped them tightly to her sides. He hugged her so hard that he forced most of the breath out of her lungs. Then he used the trailing panels to gag her tightly. He wrapped the large skirt tight round her legs. He'd parcelled her like an Egyptian mummy!

    Sandra's face was turning bright red from lack of air as I hurried across to her.

    "Sandra!" I yelled in her face, "You can THINK the spell to release yourself!"

    I held the paper in front of her eyes. She was struggling vainly against Gerald's bonds. Her eyes glared at me as if it was my fault that her husband had turned against her. She looked at the paper. Her dress began to shrink. As her gag was released she panted for air.

    "I suppose I ought to thank you." she muttered "but you got me into this mess."

    "I didn't!" I protested. "You tried to be too clever. You were trying to run before you could walk. It doesn't look as if you were in control of your man." I couldn't resist that dig at her.

    Gerald transformed back with his arms tightly wrapped round Sandra.

    "I didn't like being made into a dress!" he spluttered. "You might have warned me, Sandra."

    I left them arguing. I returned to Joss and hugged him. Apart from one lapse he'd been good to me when transformed.

    I looked around. Gradually the men were being transformed back to their normal selves.

    I clapped my hands.

    "Ladies!" I shouted, "It's nearly time for our ritual. Take the last item on the list and use it."

    Each woman took her man's hand and reached (or scrabbled) in her handbag. Then we said the spell together.

    We'd transformed the men into tampons. We shoved them deep inside us.

    "Most of our men have been pestering to join in the coven's rituals. Now they can. Stuffed inside us they won't hear or see anything but they'll be with us!"

    The coven laughed loudly.

    "And as tampons they can't do much, no matter how they try." added Emily.

    "How long I can keep Gerald as a tampon? He won't be enjoying himself. I've just started my period." Sandra cackled in best approved witch fashion.

    "You can make him one as often as as you like." I said "You must use a different tampon each time you change him. But you can buy them in large quantities in any d**g store."

    The whole coven laughed with me. Our men would have to be very careful in future.

    Chapter 16 Sandra retaliates

    After the coven had left Joss poured us drinks while I changed. I put on a plain white silk blouse and a long royal blue satin skirt. I hoped that I didn't look too much like Snow White but I knew that Joss likes the feel of satin and silk - on me! We relaxed on the settee.

    "I'm glad that's over," said Joss "I didn't enjoy being changed - No, that's not it - I didn't enjoy being changed in front of your enemies. Your friends are a different matter. I was afraid that Sandra would do something nasty to me or to both of us."

    "I admit I was worried," I said "But now we are safe for at least a whole year. She can't propose my expulsion again, nor change the coven to Black Magic until next year."


    "I don't think she'll give up that easily. She is a determined lady used to getting her own way. I think we need to be careful."

    "I agree that she needs watching but we are safe for a while. Come here." I grabbed Joss and kissed him hard while reclining the settee.

    Then things happened.

    The settee reclined abruptly and its arms whipped round us clamping us tightly.

    "Joss!" I yelled before my voice was silenced by a "hand" clamping across my mouth. Peering sideways I could see that he was gagged as well.

    I heard someone wearing high heels walk into the room. She stood over us. It was Sandra. She was holding a remote control.

    "Hello Miranda and Joss," she said in a normal voice as if we were meeting socially. "You were right, Joss, to say that I wouldn't give up easily. While you two were away I had the settee modified so that I control it. Unfortunately for you two it will malfunction and you will die as the result of a bizarre sexual experiment. Shame, isn't it."

    She pressed a button on the remote control. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the bowl poise itself over Joss's face before it replaced the gagging hand and clamped over his mouth and nose. I knew that Joss was being facesat by a full sized model of my lower body. If it stayed there he would survive only as long as he could hold his breath.

    "Now you, Miranda."

    The other bowl poised over my face.

    "I've adjusted this one so that it will eventually grow thicker and wider. I don't know whether you'll suffocate before or after your mouth is ripped apart. I'm sorry I won't be around to see it. Don't worry yet. I've set the controls so that both of you can breathe to survive for at least the next hour. That gives me time to arrange a cast-iron alibi for the time when this machine goes wrong and kills you both. Enjoy the next hour. It's the last hour you'll have. Bye!" I heard Sandra's high heels tapping as she left. Despite myself I was being excited by having "Joss's" tool filling my mouth. I could hear him snorting for breath beside me as his nose had been temporarily released. So Sandra hadn't lied. We would survive for a while.

    I thought hard. There must be a way that I could use my powers. I reviewed all the possibilities but the only option I could think of was the spell to transform myself and I'd never tried it. If it didn't work or if I couldn't move myself when transformed we were as good as dead.

    I decided that I had to act now before repeated orgasms made me weak. I grabbed a fold of my long skirt in my fingers and thought the spell. I felt the wrenching transformation that Joss had complained about. It was unpleasant. Not something I'd willingly go through often. I resolved to transform Joss less frequently and reward him properly afterwards - if we survived. The "arms" of the settee were no longer holding me now that I was just an empty long satin skirt. I tried moving and found it easy. I slid off the settee to the floor. I moved across to the power plug in the wall but I couldn't exert enough grip with slippery satin to pull it out.

    I should have transformed myself back but I wasn't thinking straight. I had to save Joss. I slithered over to the settee and lifted my hem over his head. As the bowl lifted to allow him to breathe through his nose I slipped under it. Then I eased down between the bowl and his mouth. I arched upward forcing the bowl away from his face.

    Then I tried enlarging myself. It worked. I grew to twice the original size of the skirt. As I did I slid down and around Joss, forcing the settee's arms away from him. Joss crawled out of the tunnel I'd made and over to the power plug. As he pulled it out of the wall the settee's arms and bowls retracted back into their concealed positions. I slumped into a heap of satin.

    "Miranda!" Joss shouted. "Turn yourself back!"

    He gathered me, as the skirt, into his arms. I was tired but I had enough effort left to think the spell. I found myself naked and hugged closely. Joss kissed me hard.

    "Thank you," he said. "You saved us from Sandra this time."

    It was true. I had taken a huge risk but we were alive. We had won a battle with Sandra at the coven and survived her revenge. We still had to win the war.

    What could she or we try next...? Halloween will soon be upon us.
    Published by oggbashan
    6 years ago
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    mikey1ra
    mikey1ra 6 years ago
    awesome
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