Tag: Fisting

The two thugs in the back looked uncertain, and the leader scowled at me. “The Chovihani will not entertain your foolishness. Leave this place.”
I took a step toward him, getting ready to say something rude. He reached back, grasping some weapon he had behind himself. It looked like things were going to get ugly, but before either one of us could act, the flimsy screen door of the trailer behind him banged open.
“The Chovihani will see whomever she pleases,” said a voice from inside the trailer. It sounded like someone’s great grandmother, but the men all froze as if they were being scolded by a columbian druglord. “Come in. Leave your man behind. We will have words.”
Chris shot me a look that said he would push back if I wanted him to. I took a second to appreciate that; I hadn’t even told him why we were here, and yet he was willing to charge in for me. I shook my head, then took a step forward.
The three men stepped aside and I walked between them, climbing the three rotting wooden steps to the trailer’s entrance. I took a second to gather my wits, then stepped inside.
The door closed behind me, and I was immediately hit with the cloying scent of fried onions. I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light, and looked around.
I had expected something mysterious and ethnic when I walked into the witch’s home. What I got instead was the latest in dumpster chic: faded brown carpet, ugly floral wallpaper, and an orange sofa that looked like it should have been put out of its misery in the sixties.
An old woman was in the kitchen area, bent over the stove with her back to me. She was wearing sweatpants and a loose tee, and looked about three hundred years old. “Sit down, dear,” she said without turning around. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
I sat on the couch, which creaked in protest under my weight, and leaned back. “Do you know who I am?” I asked, watching the woman impatiently. I had an adrenalin rush going for this confrontation, and her laid-back attitude was ruining it.
“Of course I know who you are, Shawna,” she replied, moving her pan to a back burner and turning around. “I always recognize my own work.” She grinned, showing a set of surprisingly perfect teeth, and walked over toward me, sitting in an armchair that faced me couch. “Although I have to say, I’m impressed with the result. I had worried you would look mannish.”
I glared at her. “Change me back.”
“No.”
The blunt response gave me pause. I gathered myself and tried again. “This is ridiculous. I get it, I was an asshole, and I feel like shit for it. Now I need my body back, before I lose my job or go insane.”
She shrugged, crossing her arms. Her face was impassive, and behind the mask of matronly wrinkled skin sat a pair of eyes that were sharp with intelligence. “You took advantage of my granddaughter. Would you rather I told her father, and let him beat you to death? I believe you met him, outside.”
I rubbed my eyes in frustration. “Look, lady, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was wrong. But I don’t see how trying to get me raped a bunch of times is going to help solve that.”
She leaned forward. “Raped? Why would you say that?” she asked.
“Because it’s true!” I cried. “You gave me this… this body, and then you did something, shot me up with pheromones or some shit, and now any guy who spends more than a few minutes around me fucking attacks me!”
Lyubitshka frowned. “Maria!” she shouted. “I know you are back there!”
Maria stomped out of another room, looking pissed off. “You can’t tell me it was wrong! He deserved it!” She pointed at me. “There’s no way I was the only one!”
The old woman clapped her hands, producing a slapping sound so loud I had to wince. It instantly cowed Maria, who dropped her arm and took a step back. “Maria,” the old witch said, looking at me still, “are you saying you fucked with my curse?”
“I was only-”
“Maria. Did you fuck with my curse?”
“Yes, Grandmother.” She looked down.
“Do you not trust me to know what is appropriate?”
“I… I was angry. I’m sorry.” Maria seemed deflated and ashamed, like a little kid who had been caught stealing.
Lyubitshka sighed and shook her head. “That is regrettable. Shawna, I cannot help you. To undo Maria’s curse would be to undo my own as well.”
I stood up and stared down at her. “Then do that!” I demanded. “Make me who I was again!”
“I cannot.”
“Cannot, or will not?!”
“Both. Our honor demands that you suffer this fate. Do not worry about you old life. In time, the man who you were will fade from memory. You have all his credentials and important records, and even your family will greet you as a daughter, never questioning what happened to their son.”
“And the pheromones?”
“Well, a good man will not succumb to such base instincts,” she said, glaring at me. The statement was not lost; I had not been a good man. “In time, such a man will stop feeling the effects, as his mind shakes off the spell. Or he just gets used to it. Difficult to say. Anyway, that too will go away in time.”
“That’s something. How much time until men stop trying to jump me?”
“Well, it varies.” She grinned, flashing those disturbingly white teeth at me again. “For me, it was sometime after my hair went gray and my tits started to sag.”
I found it considerably less humorous. “Look, you’re going to reverse what you did. What both of you did. I’m not leaving here until you do.”
“Maria,” the old witch ordered, still never looking at her but instead keeping her eyes boring into me, “Go outside. Tell your father that I am finished speaking to my guest, and that she will be leaving now.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’m leaving. There’s no need to call daddy in to shove a girl out the door.”
I walked to the door, then stopped. “I was an asshole,” I said, not looking back at the women, “but you people are just sick.” Read more »