The Wererock
By Guest Writer: Mike
Chapter 14 – Part 1 of 2 - Clubbing
We
spent the rest of the day talking about how we needed to get Rita’s phone and
the Wererock back from our new tormentor. “Silver,” I said, “we didn’t tell her
that silver blocks changes.”
“Oh,
that’s good.”
We
ordered pizza for dinner and I wasn’t surprised to find Cynthia answering the
door wearing nothing but a towel. I smiled at her, shaking my head. The man
delivering the pizza, sporting a dirty Dallas Cowboys t-shirt and torn jeans
smiled at the show. “Damn, how lucky am I?”
Cynthia
pirouetted, letting the towel fall to the ground. She paid for the order, and
returned to my side, laughing. “That’s fun,” she said. “I don’t think that’ll
ever get old.”
“I
guess we’ll find out.”
She
clapped her hands together, “goody!”
We
ate and talked; cleaned up and talked. We deleted the pictures from Cynthia’s
phone and erased Derek’s contact information as well. We ended the day without
a real plan but a few ideas. “We’ll look for an opportunity. We’ve got to get
the phone first. That’s the threat that keeps us in line. Once we delete the
pictures everything else should come a little easier.” I rubbed my head, “Once
we have the phone under our control we’ll sneak out and put on some silver.
Then, whatever she tries, won’t work. We’ll tell her the rock is broken or
something; I guess we’ll play that by ear.” I shrugged. The plan was sound it
just wasn’t much of a plan.
“Okay,”
Cynthia had agreed.
Afterwards
we made love. While frustrating, it was sweet and good. We kissed and caressed
each other. I nibbled her nipples and she sucked on mine. I lapped at her pussy
and became enflamed with passion when she reciprocated. It was tender and full
of emotion. I learned then the sublime difference between making love and
fucking. Even without the ability to come, that night with Cynthia was one of
the best nights of my life.
Sunday
morning, we stayed in. I made biscuits from a can and sausage gravy from
scratch. Cynthia and I did the dishes together. We took a shower together as
well, just to maintain our intimacy. Thanks to the Wererock neither of us had
to shave. I remember Cynthia saying what a relief the stone had been in that
regard. I’d never shaved my legs so I didn’t really understand what she meant
but she was sincere so I’m sure she was exaggerating.
We
stayed naked, huddled together underneath a warm comforter. We watched old
black and white movies on cable and had leftover pizza for lunch. It was a
simple Sunday that left me feeling calm and relaxed. As the day progressed that
feeling slowly waned. Rita sent a text telling us that she’d be over at six. As
the time approached I felt like a prisoner about to be executed, knowing that
no stay was coming from the Governor.
“Don’t
worry,” Cynthia said, kissing the tip of my nose. “No matter what happens I
love you.”
Just
hearing that made me feel better. “I love you, too.”
Cynthia
put on her robe and I donned an old t-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts, exactly
the kind of comfortable thing I used to wear around the house before I had
boobs and a pussy between my legs. We sat around, making plans to get Rita’s
phone, while waiting for her to arrive. She showed up, ringing my doorbell ten
minutes early, excited to start whatever game she had planned.
“Come
in,” I said, opening the door. Rita was wearing a pair of jeans and a simple
button down blouse; I think she wore the pants just because Cynthia couldn’t.
Her skin looked younger and her hair was a more even black; she’d been using
the rock. It was subtle but the evidence was there. Her purse was draped over
her shoulder. She had the phone and the Wererock, it wouldn’t serve Cynthia or
I to deny her access. We’d play her game and get her phone and free ourselves
from whatever madness she came up with.
“Thanks.”
She came in and gave Cynthia a hug. It seemed so natural that I thought it was
probably something that they did often. Rita took a seat on the couch in the
same room Cynthia and I had watched movies and ate pizza. “Did you miss me?”
She taunted.
Instead
of answering, Cynthia said, “so what’s this game?”
“Not
so fast. Come here… Amy.” She motioned me to her side. Cynthia, standing behind
Rita, gave me a little nod. The game was underway. I stood next to Rita. She
ran her hand up my bare leg. “The stone did this, right?”
I
nodded.
She
pulled the stone out of her purse.
“Here.” I clutched the icy rock, “I want you to make all the hair you
had on your chest, arms, legs and underarms that the rock took away come back.
Oh, and make that pussy of yours hairy, too.”
That
was easy. Using the Wererock was simple; dealing with the consequences was
difficult.
“Perfect,”
Rita said. “Now, why don’t you go shave all that off. Women have to shave their
legs. It’s a decidedly girly thing to do and so guess what, no shortcuts for
you. Set the stone down; I’m going to program Cynthia here while you’re
shaving. Do a good job. I’d hate to have to punish you.”
I
didn’t like the sound of that. I put the rock on my coffee table and hurried to
the master bathroom. I started the shower and with my razor I scraped all the
hair on my face, arms, and chest away. My underarms were a tad difficult to do,
the shape of the skin didn’t match the rigid face of the razor. It took a few
minutes until my underarms were denuded of hair again. Afterwards, I started on
my legs. I lathered them up with shaving cream and went to work, sliding the
blade from my foot to my knee, before rinsing the blade in the shower spray.
Over and over I repeated those long strokes. I shaved my legs and spent a
little extra time working on my knees. Finally, satisfied, I started with my
new pubic hair. I shaved gently, taking away the hair with short, steady
strokes. With the job done, using three full razors, I turned off the water. I
dried my body, dabbing as Cynthia had taught me, and dressed again in the same
baggy shorts and t-shirt.
I
was surprised to see that half an hour had passed. Cynthia was sitting on the
couch wearing a blank look that I couldn’t decipher. Rita motioned me to her
and checked how well I’d done. “Almost as good as the stone. Very good, Amy.
Very good.” She gave me a smile and told me to sit down next to her. I sat.
“Cynthia,
why don’t you go get dressed while I set my little triggers for Amy here.”
I
watched as Cynthia left the room. She gave me a sad little look that hurt my
heart. Whatever Rita had done, it was bad. Probably worse than either of us had
imagined. I took solace that the stone could fix it, once we had control over
it. The stone could take the memories away, make it so that it never happened.
We just needed to get to that point.
“Pick
up the rock.”
I
picked up the rock.
“Good.
Now, in a moment you’re going to go get ready for a night out, just you,
Cynthia has a different task. You’ll have a ball,” she laughed though I didn’t
know why. “You’re going to go put on your makeup, get into those sexy little
dresses you two bought, and then go out and have a good time. You know where
Casper’s is, right?” I did, it was a meat market, where horny college students
went to pick up dates. They played loud music and served overpriced,
water-downed drinks. It wasn’t the place I’d ever wanted to go and I doubt
Cynthia had ever been there either. “But first, we have to get you in the right
frame of mind.”
I
kept quiet, this was Rita’s show. I was just the actor on stage.
“Do
you know what a slut is?”
I
knew the standard definition. I wasn’t sure if Rita actually expected an answer
so I kept my mouth shut.
“Well?”
“A
slut is a woman that will sleep with just about anyone; someone that has many
casual sexual partners.”
“Exactly.
How about a nymphomaniac?”
Yeah,
this wasn’t going well. “Someone who thinks about and acts upon their sexual
urges as often as they can?”
“Perfect.
Finally, what’s a ditz?”
What
did, oh shit. “An airhead, maybe? Someone that can’t hold a thought for long.”
Rita
beamed. “Close enough. You get where I’m going with that, Amy?”
I did and I didn’t
like it. This was bad. Worse than bad, this was apocalyptic. I shook my head,
more to hold off the inevitable than anything else. I felt my hands growing
damp, worry etching the lines in my face.
“Oh, Cynthia,
don’t you look the part? Tonight, your name is Sin.”
Cynthia had
entered the room. Her face was heavy with makeup. Her hair had been teased and
elevated, set in place by a gallon of hairspray. She had large golden earrings
in her ears that hung down to her shoulders. The black dress she’d bought was
every bit as revealing here in my great room as it had been in the store. I
could tell that she wasn’t wearing panties and when she walked I could tell
that her pussy was every bit as shaved as mine. From behind I could see nearly
half her ass was on display. She was wearing impossibly high heels, I’d guess
about a seven-inch heel with a good three-inch platform. With her heavy makeup
and heels she looked like a hooker. A high-class hooker, sure, but a prostitute
none-the-less.
“Sin is for
sin,” Rita said.
Cynthia’s face
changed, suddenly she looked happy. She glanced at the three-foot clock on the
wall, “Damn, I’m late. Don’t wait up girlfriend!” She grabbed her purse,
checked it for her cellphone and spare makeup, and then darted from the room. A moment later I heard the chirp from my
alarm system as Cynthia left the house.
“Where’s she
going?”
Rita answered my
question by not answering it at all, “She’s starting her task; you’ll go on
yours. The winner gets to come. Don’t you want to come?”
“I want to know
what you did to Cynthia, dammit!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the room.
“I’ll tell you
after you’re set up for your game.”
That wasn’t
going to work for me. She’d set Cynthia off on some humiliating task and I
needed to put a stop to it. If only it were that simple. “No, Rita, listen to
me. This has gone on long enough.” I was still holding the Wererock, maybe if I
could get Rita to take it from me. I held out my hand. “Take the stone and tell
me what you did.”
Rita smiled,
reminding me of a great white shark, “I’ll tell you after I set you on your
game. You’ll want to know it for sure.” She looked at the Werestone sitting in
my hand but didn’t reach for it. “I can tell you that if I don’t text her in
the next half hour she’s going to have a much harder time of it. And I’m not
going to text her until I have you programmed.”
Shit! Shit!
Shit! I hesitated, not sure what to do. Our plan to get Rita’s phone was in
place but was she telling the truth? I knew that triggers could be anything,
why couldn’t they be a text. Rita saw my hesitation. “If I don’t text her
she’ll drive straight to Derek’s house and, well, you saw how she was dressed
and she’ll offer exactly, well, everything.” That last word was steel.
I felt defeated.
“Fine!” It sounded like I was pouting.
“Now, where were
we? Oh, yes. Ready?”
No. “Yes.”
“Make yourself a
slut, you know, just like you defined.”
Uh oh.
“Did you do it?”
I didn’t feel
any different but I knew the stone had worked it’s magic, doing exactly what I
wanted it to do, reading the intent from my thoughts even easier than the
thoughts I focused upon. “Yes.”
“Good. Now I
want you to think of yourself as a girl. You’re Amy, right. So, make it so that
you think you’re a girl and you’ve always been a girl.”
I was Amy so
that one was easy. “Okay.”
“Now, are you
horny?”
I was, though at
the time I didn’t feel it. I was feeling anger and despair and those didn’t
really go along with amorous feelings of lust. I shrugged.
“That will never
do. Make yourself horny. Make yourself so horny that you’d fuck a pillow if you
thought that would get you off.”
I made the
change. That one was evident. I felt a tingling in my pussy, a buzzing, vibrant
need. My knees flexed as I rubbed my thighs together, just to feel something.
My nipples hardened and my mouth grew dry. Oh, god, was I horny. I needed to
come. Yes, come. My hand slipped into my panties. I rubbed the Werestone
against my pussy, gasping as the cold stone rubbed my hot flesh. It felt good.
I moaned. I didn’t mean to, but I did.
“Perfect. Now,
you still can’t come, right?”
Huh? “What? I
need to come, please, can I come?”
“Only if you win
my game. Now, do the rest of it. Make yourself a ditzy, nymphomaniac slut. Do
it or your Cynthia’s going to visit Derek and see just how many times he can
fuck her up that sexy ass of hers.”
I couldn’t let
that happen to Cynthia. Maybe I should have with all that happened afterwards,
but I knew how she felt about him and I had to protect her from that indignity.
I started to pull the rock out of my panties but it felt so good. What did it
matter? It was touching my skin. I shut
my eyes and made the change. The results were instantane… inst… the results
were fast. I felt horny, hornier than I could imagine and I could imagine
almost anything. I could imagine huge, hot cocks pounding into my cunt. Oh,
that was a good idea. Could I make that happen? The way I was dressed, I bet I
could.
“Did you do it?”
I looked up,
surprised. When did Rita get here? Had she been there long? I tried to remember
when she’d arrived. She looked good. Her makeup was done well and her lips were
full and inviting. “Want to fool
around?” I asked, pointing to the couch, reaching out to touch her chest.
Rita laughed,
“What about Cynthia?”
I pouted, “She’s
not here and I’m horny. She won’t mind, right?” That didn’t sound right. Would
she mind? If she was here I could ask her. “Where is Sin?”
Rita laughed
even louder. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Give me the stone.” I tried to
determine what she meant. What stone?
She laughed again. “The toy in your panties.”
I didn’t want to
give it to her. It felt so good. I told
her that which sent her into fits of laughter. “You did it, you really did it.
Come on, hand it here and we’ll get you what you need.”
“Promise?” I
asked, biting my lip.
“I promise.”
I pulled the
Wererock from my panties and gave it to Rita. Had I been thinking clearly, I
could have stopped everything that was happening. For a moment both Rita and I
were touching the stone at the same time. I could have made a change in her but
I wasn’t thinking about our plan, I wasn’t thinking about Cynthia and where she
was, all I could think about was the aching desire to get fucked. Hard and
often. I needed it. I had thought that using the stone was like a junkie
gaining a fix, but the stone had set me up far worse than that. It knew the
intent of what Rita was asking, or maybe I did, and it set me up exactly as she
wanted. I could think of nothing complicated; maybe I could refresh my
lipstick, or order a drink at a bar, but concentrating on the plan Cynthia and
I had come up with was beyond my abilities at that moment.
“Oh,” Rita said,
letting go of the rock so that it was in my hand alone. “Whenever a guy comes
inside of you, I want a couple of things to happen. Okay?”
I
was going out to get laid. I needed that.
“Amy?
Grab the rock.”
I
grabbed the rock. It was pretty. Cynthia’s eyes were blue, too.
“I
want you to get even hornier every time you feel ashamed. Can you make that
happen?”
I
listened to what she wanted while holding the rock. I’m sure I made the
change. “Yeppers!”
“Good.
Now, every time a man comes inside of you I want you to remember you’re a man,
a big, strong man, and I want you to feel the shame you’d expect to feel. Can you
do that? And because you feel that shame, I want you to get even hornier. Can
you make that happen now?” She giggled, “Or is that too complicated?”
I
wasn’t stupid, I just couldn’t concentrate for long. I focused on what she said
and made the change. “Okay.”
“Good,
now the stone, please.”
Rita
put the stone in her purse and pulled out a sharpie. “Here, keep this with
you.”
I
grabbed the pen. “Why?”
“Come
on, let’s go see Cynthia and then I’ll tell you why, okay?”
That
sounded good. “Okay.”
“Then
let’s get you dressed.”
We
made our way into the master bedroom. I put on my little black dress. I looked
good in it. I looked sexy. I’d fuck me. My legs were smooth; my hair perfect.
It was nighttime and I was going clubbing so I made my face up with darker
colors and thicker lines, a far cry from demure; my face screamed slut. That
was perfect, too. I put on a pair of black, four-inch heels with a pointy toe
and a simple strap running up my foot to a band that latched around my ankle. I
sprayed myself with too much perfume. Damn, I looked good.
Sitting
on the bed, Rita watched it all, taking in the show. “You look like you want to
get laid, girlfriend.”
What
a stupid thing to say, “Duh.” I giggled and wobbled to my feet.
“Ready?”
“Let’s
go.” I grabbed my purse; a girl never, ever forgets her purse. Rita reminded me
about the sharpie and I stuck that in my purse next to some makeup, a few
condoms, a tampon, my lipstick, a bottle of bright red nail polish, a brush and
a small, round mirror. The same items Cynthia had set up for me to buy during
one of our earlier games and the condoms I’d added myself.
Rita
drove in her dark blue Fiat. She backed out of my private driveway while I
checked my makeup in the visor mirror. I still looked good. My thighs were
clenched and I could feel my panties growing damp. I was horny; I needed a
good, hard fucking.
Rita
drove towards the golden-domed capital building. She turned out of downtown,
towards the Florida State campus. We skipped past squat, square buildings made
of old, red bricks, lined with even older live oak trees. There were very few
pedestrians out on the streets as we drove through the campus towards the
airport and the seedier part of town. “Where we going? I thought we were going
to Casper’s.”
“We
are. First we’re going to check in on Cynthia so I can tell you the game.”
“I
like games. Well, not Monopoly. It’s hard.”
Rita
smiled. The college campus gave way to a run-down industrial park. Litter lined
the poorly lit streets. The quaint, well-maintained buildings became something
of an eye-sore. Buildings boarded up and painted with graffiti replaced the
pristine buildings of the campus. There was a smell in the air that reminded me
of rotten meat. I wrinkled my nose, “it stinks.”
“There
she is,” Rita said.
