5 comments/ 71946 views/ 24 favorites The Witch Next Door By: daughterof1917 Rebecca rolled over in her bed, gently waking from a deep sleep; it was Saturday morning, and way too early for her to be waking up like this. She lifted her head from the pillow, her long red hair cascading down around her face as she did so. Eyes darted over to the clock, taking in the time: 7:15. Definitely way too early to be awake. The young woman of 23 groaned and flopped back down, face first onto her pillow. She always hated it when she woke this early; usually, it meant no getting back to sleep, and an extremely long, tiring day ahead of her. Slowly, Rebecca became aware of a sound... a constant thump thump thump from outside. In her sleep-hazed state, she tried to piece together what could be making such a racket at such an early hour; it was no good, as she was halfway between the real world and the dream world. Groaning, Rebecca rolled onto her back and reached over toward her husband, Ty. Or, at least she would have reached over to him if he had been there. That certainly snapped her from her groggy state. Rebecca sat upright in bed, looking to her left; the sheets were thrown back, and Ty was nowhere to be seen. Odd, as he usually slept in later than she did. The young woman pushed back her side of the covers and sat up in bed; her feet slipped into her slippers as she stood up, rubbing her bleary eyes and yawning. She took a few steps toward the bathroom, pushing open the door and calling out. "Ty? Are you in here babe?" The only answer was the drip of the faucet, water striking against water. No husband in there. She shuffled out of the bedroom, the thumping still coming from outside, grating on her weary nerves. It sounded like hammering. At this hour? Way too early for a Saturday. Rebecca peeked into the kitchen, thinking that he had, perhaps, started on breakfast. No such luck there, either. Nor the living room, nor the garage. A tingle of worry nagged at the back of her mind, worst-case scenarios plaguing her mind's eye as she walked around the house in search of her husband. Still dressed in her pajamas, pink sleep pants and a baby blue tank top, Rebecca opened the front door, wondering if he were, perhaps, outside. There was no sign of him in the front yard, but the obnoxious sound of the hammering sure was louder now that she was out in the neighborhood. That, coupled with her AWOL husband, Rebecca's nerves began to fray. With a huff, she closed the front door and walked out to the sidewalk, toward the source of the sound -- the house across the street from hers. She lived in a generally quiet neighborhood, with no through streets, so traffic was never an issue; it was always neighbors only that drove through that part of the neighborhood. As she neared the house, she saw somebody kneeling on the roof, replacing shingles from the look of it. It was a man, already sweaty from the work in the quickly warming morning. But as Rebecca grew closer, she saw that the form was very, very familiar; her eyes traced the shape of his muscly arms, unshaven jaw line, and sweaty black hair. Her husband, Ty. "TY! What are you doing?!" She called up at him, her temper somewhere between shocked and outraged that her husband had gotten out of bed so early to work on somebody else's house without even telling her. Even though she yelled up to him, there was no response. He wasn't hammering often enough, or loud enough, that he couldn't have heard her completely. "Ty! TY!" She continued; even when he wasn't hammering, he didn't respond. Unbelievable! He was ignoring her?! "Ty, answer me! Don't ignore me!" Her temper was rising. Rebecca was so focused on staring up to the roof of the house that she didn't notice the front door open, or the thin, pale brunette that stepped out of it. The woman was beautiful, though she had such a fair complexion it seemed she never got in the sun; her figure was thin, with very subtle curves. Even through the thin t-shirt she wore, it was obvious that her breasts were small, but exceptionally perky. The woman leaned against the door frame, watching in seeming amusement as Rebecca yelled up to the roof. "He can't hear you, darling." The woman's voice cut through the noise easily enough, catching Rebecca with enough surprise to make her jump. The young housewife spun to face the woman standing in the doorway, hair arcing out around her in a red blur; her eyes were, momentarily, wide. "What do you mean he can't hear me? It's not that loud up there." Rebecca replied, testily. "I mean he can't hear you. Simply enough. I needed some work done on my roof. You must be his little wife, yes? He mentioned you." The woman replied, smirking. "I'll send him back your way when I'm done with him. I promise he won't be too tired." The words caught Rebecca by surprise, who was left to stand there and gape at what she'd just been told. "You're not going to send him anywhere. He's my husband, lady! He's going to come with me whether or not you want him to. Ty! Ty, come down here!" Rebecca replied before looking back up to the roof, cupping her hands around her mouth so that her husband would have a better chance of hearing her. The dark haired woman standing in the doorway just shook her head and sighed. "Why don't you just go home and wait like a good girl?" The woman said, wearily. "All you are doing is making a scene." "Oh, this isn't a scene. I can show you a scene, if you want." Rebecca replied, hotly. The pale woman smirked in response. "I'm sure you can." She stared over at Rebecca, her eyes piercing deeply into those of the red haired housewife; the gaze that she got from this woman made a chill run up Rebecca's spine, and caused a strange pressure in the back of her head. But as soon as it came on, it went away, leaving Rebecca more than slightly confused. "What in the hell do you mean by that?" Rebecca asked, putting her hands on her hips and hooking her thumbs in the waist band of her pink pajama bottoms. The pale women just looked amused, which caused Rebecca's temper to flare even more. "Nothing, nothing." The brunette assured, condescendingly. "Go on, huff and puff for all the good it will do you." Rebecca frowned and, with her thumbs, pushed her pajama pants downward; they fell smoothly to her ankles, where she stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. This left the pretty young woman standing on the sidewalk in her tank top and a pair of thin, white panties. She didn't even seem to be aware that she'd done it. "Look, lady," Rebecca said, reaching up to the neckline of her tank top; she pulled the material down while lifting up her modest breasts, so that they spilled out of her top and bounced slightly before her. Her nipples quickly hardened in the morning air. With her breasts now free, Rebecca began to shake her torso slightly from side to side, to make sure her tits were wiggling in front of her. She still wasn't aware of what she was doing. "I don't know who you think you are, but you can't talk to me that way. And you sure as hell can't boss my husband around like he's your slave." This made the pale brunette smirk even more. She looked down to the swaying breasts of the red haired girl, watching their subtle motions from side to side, growing more excited as Rebecca fell further under her control. It took some will of her own, but she looked up from the moving tits and back into Rebecca's eyes. "I can't boss your husband around? Yes I can." The words, when spoken, carried the weight of the woman's words; they bore into the mind of the poor wife, settling deep in there and becoming truth. "Okay, well maybe you can boss him around like a slave," Rebecca admitted. She stopped swaying, only so that she could sit down on the sidewalk and spread her legs; her hand snaked between her open thighs to rub at her covered pussy. "But you can't talk to me that way." "Or you'll show me a scene." "Damn right," Rebecca replied, moaning as she pressed the cotton of her panties against her moist pussy. A damp spot began to show, growing larger and larger the more she rubbed. She seemed to lose herself to the masturbation, forgetting that the pale woman was nearby at all. Her eyes closed and her fingers worked quickly; she pressed against her swollen clit, through the fabric, and ran a finger into her covered slit. "Are you showing me a scene yet?" The woman taunted, which snapped Rebecca out of her daze. "Oh, you'll... ung... you'll know when... I show you a scene..." "Tell me your name," The woman commanded, while staring across the short distance to Rebecca. "Rebecca Whitfield," The woman replied automatically, not thinking anything odd about anything going on. The brunette frowned slightly. "You don't strike me as a Rebecca... I think, for you, something more appropriate would be ... Becky. But Whitfield sounds too sophisticated for you. Wouldn't, oh... Cummings be so much better?" She spoke, and the words settled into Becky's mind, rewriting what she knew of her own identity. "Becky Cummings. Isn't that better?" "Uh huh," Becky gasped; she shuddered as an orgasm struck her, her pussy clenching before it released a flood of her own juices, soaking her panties and her own thighs. She was left panting, and smirking up at the brunette in the doorway, like she had just accomplished something. Her nimble hands quickly pried off her soaked panties and lifted them to her mouth, putting the wet fabric between her lips so she could suck on her own juices. "And that's your husband up there?" The brunette asked, not phased in the least by Becky's actions. The red head nodded in response. "No he's not. You've never met that man in your life," The woman replied, smirking. Once again, Becky's mind began to rewrite what she knew. Meeting Ty in college, going to football games and cuddling close to him for warmth, their wedding, their honeymoon, their life together... all erased, gone forever. She was left blinking. "What... am I doing here...?" Becky asked, words muffled from the panties stuffed in her mouth. Her entire purpose for coming over here to argue with this woman had been erased, leaving her confused. "You're my live-in servant, of course. You came out here because you said you wanted to show me a scene. And it looks like you did. Though I don't know why you're all dressed up like that. You know you're not allowed to wear cloths here, you stupid slut." The words hit Becky like a ton of bricks. Her intelligence dropped dramatically, her libido increased a hundred-fold... and her free will quickly crumbled, to fit her new position. Becky blushed furiously. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't know what I was thinking..." Becky quickly got out of her tank top, the only thing she was left wearing. The panties stayed in her mouth. "Now that you've showed me your scene, why don't you get back inside and start work on my breakfast. Then, when I'm done eating, we can go to the bedroom, and I'll give you something to eat too." "Oh, yes ma'am!" Becky quickly got to her feet to comply, hurrying into the house. The brunette smirked as she hurried past her, watching her new servant's lovely tits bouncing wildly as she went, before she, too, stepped into the house and closed the door behind her. The Witch Next Door Ch. 02 Alice, the lovely dark haired witch, lounged luxuriously on the sofa in her living room, one arm stretched behind her head for support; her other hand was resting between her thighs, fingers lazily tracing the folds of her damp pussy while she watched her two living toys perform for her. It had been a month since she'd stolen the free will of her neighbors, Rebecca and Ty; in that time, she'd used her powers to alter them and better suit them to her needs. Rebecca, now Becky, had been the easiest. After all, she was the one who had so rudely stormed across the street and demanded the return of her husband, whom Alice was only going to borrow for a little while. The attitude had rubbed her the wrong way, and instead of letting her go on her way she'd erased large sections of the redhead's memory and reprogramming her to be the perfect, docile slave. Becky no longer wore clothes, which suited Alice just fine. It was nice to watch the pale, busty woman bouncing around the house cleaning for her; she had also dramatically reduced the intelligence of her once smart neighbor, bringing her down to near bimbo levels. Becky couldn't read or write anymore. Hell, she could barely string together a coherent sentence that didn't involve some kind of giggle or allusion to sex. But, Alice didn't mind; she didn't exactly keep Becky around for the conversational skills. Whenever the slave started blathering on about something that roamed into her silly little mind, Alice would just redirect her mouth to better uses -- like licking her pussy. She'd pushed the knowledge into Becky's otherwise empty mind, along with how to cook, clean, and, of course, the best ways to finger her mistress. She'd also made a few other changes to the woman. Alice's tits were nowhere near as large as Becky's, and the slave had quite the perky set as it was. Not feeling it was proper for servant to outdo her mistress like that, Alice had used her abilities to redefine the shape of her slave's breasts. Sure, they were still the same size. She wasn't so cruel as to take that away from her. But now, instead of standing out proudly in front of her, Becky's tits sagged heavily, with her constantly-erect nipples pointing straight down at the floor. Becky had whined when the change too place, but, as always, Alice simply told her to quit whining and eat her out -- which Becky had done with gusto, quickly forgetting what had upset her in the first place. Ty, on the other hand, she had to leave more-or-less intact for a little longer. She'd erased his knowledge of Becky as his wife, and replaced it with a longing desire to live with Alice. This enabled him to go back to his house and quickly put it on the market for sale; when it sold two weeks later, he kept none of the money, of course. Every dime of it went into Alice's bank account, along with the profit of selling everything in the house that he could. What nobody would buy, like photo albums of he and Becky's marriage, he threw away at Alice's request. That's when he moved in to her house, like a proper slave. She didn't undo his intelligence, not that it would matter. Under her spell, Ty no longer had the ability to speak. Alice felt that men, especially ones as attractive as the tall and muscly Ty, were to be seen, and not heard. So, without a whimper, he went silent -- and would stay so until she decided he needed to speak again. Much like his enslaved wife, Ty wasn't to wear clothing around the house. It simply wasn't fitting for a slave; it would also conceal the permanently erect cock of his. Thanks to her influence, the thing never went down, and provided her with amusement any time she wanted. Ty had been turned into a living sex doll, to fuck or play whenever she desired. The first thing she had done when he moved in was bring the pair of slaves to her bedroom, where she had Becky undress her so that she could watch her husband fuck her mistress -- not that she had any knowledge of Ty being her husband any longer. She lay on the bed and let Ty slide his cock inside of her waiting, wet pussy, fucking her long and hard while Becky knelt on the floor playing with her drooping tits; the female slave was never to touch her pussy without permission -- even stupid Becky could remember that much. And when it was done, Ty fired shot after shot of cum into her cunt before pulling out; Becky was ordered to, first, lick his cock clean, and then to suck the cum from her mistress' pussy. Of course, Becky wound up with cum smeared all over her face. And, of course, Alice had taken several pictures of her grinning, idiot slave kneeling on the floor, smeared in cum. She contemplated sending them to the woman's family, just for further humiliation. But, in the weeks following, Alice grew increasingly bored with her new toys. She'd used them in every which way imaginable around the house, but the thrill was quickly wearing off. So there she was at present, laying on the couch while idly fingering herself as she watched Becky on all fours being rather soundly fucked by Ty, her pendulous breasts swaying with each thrust. Since neither of them could cum without her permission, they had been at it for a couple of hours now, fucking away in an attempt to get to something she wouldn't allow to happen. Part of her felt bad for them, but the cruel dominant side didn't quite care. It was with a sigh that she pulled her hand away from her cunt and rose from the couch, walking past the fucking slaves and wiping her fingers in Becky's hair as she passed. The pale, petite mistress moved over to the front window of her home, leaning idly against the frame and looking out into the neighborhood. That's when she saw the new family moving into the house that her slaves had sold only a couple weeks earlier. A large moving van was parked in the driveway, and movers were busy hauling the possessions inside; standing near the van, overseeing the work, were two women, what Alice presumed to be a mother and daughter. The mother looked to be in her mid-forties, and was still quite attractive by Alice's standards; she had blonde hair that was kept short, no longer than chin length, and a bright smile that was charming, even from this distance. She apparently had kept herself in shape, because Alice could tell that she was thin and well-toned. Alice also noticed that the woman had fairly small breasts, much like herself. And unlike her daughter. The woman's daughter was, most likely, in her early twenties from the look of her. She shared her mother's blonde hair, though hers was long and worn in a loose ponytail at the back of her neck. Unlike her mother, however, this young woman had an enviable set of breasts. They were pushed into a tank top that was just a bit too small for her, causing an ample amount of cleavage to show; this drew lusty glances from the moving men, and looks of reproach from her mother. Perhaps this would be the diversion she needed from her boring, dull life. She glanced back over her shoulder and rolled her eyes to see the two slaves still fucking one another. With the flick of her wrist, Ty pulled out of Becky's drenched cunt and began to fire his cum up her back; his head tilted back, and his eyes shut as he silently expressed his orgasm. Becky, the mindless thing she was, began to giggle when she felt the first drops of the hot cum hit her skin. She, unlike Ty, had not been allowed to orgasm and was simply too stupid to realize it. With a smirk, Alice made another gesture and Ty quickly leaned down to greedily lick his own cum from Becky's back. She left the two of them to finish that up while she went to her bedroom and dressed for the evening. ---- It was nearing 8pm, and the moving vans had been gone for a couple of hours. Kaitlin had been busily unpacking boxes in her kitchen while Melissa, her daughter, had spent the entire time in her room, unpacking her own things. It was with some surprise that she heard a knock on her door. Wiping the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, Kaitlin headed to the front of the house and cracked open the door. Standing on the other side was a petite, pale woman with dark hair wearing tight jeans and a light sweater. She didn't look like she could have been any older than her late twenties. She was carrying a bottle of wine in her hands, and smiling brightly when the door opened. "Hello," Alice said politely, seeing the older blonde woman on the other side of the door. "I don't mean to disturb you, but I saw you moving in earlier and thought I would come to welcome you to the neighborhood." She held the bottle of wine out in front of her, as an offering. Kaitlin returned the smile and opened the door further, so that she could take the proffered bottle. "Well, thank you! That's very sweet of you. And you're not disturbing me at all. In fact, I could gladly use a break from all of this unpacking. It's extremely dull, and we don't even have the TV service set up yet. Would you like to come in?" With this, Alice nodded and stepped across the threshold. When she was inside, she offered her hand to the lady of the house. "Alice," She said, introducing herself. "Kaitlin," The mother replied, shaking Alice's hand before closing the door before her. Alice took a few steps into the living room, admiring the house. Ty and Becky had a lovely home before she'd forced them to sell it. "What brings you to the area?" Alice asked, looking back over her shoulder to Kaitlin, who was walking toward her. "My daughter, actually. She just transferred colleges, and this house is pretty close to where she goes. She's only a semester away from graduating. My little girl, all grown up." Kaitlin replied with an exaggerated amount of emotion. Alice laughed lightly. Just then, Melissa came bounding down the stairs. She'd changed clothes from earlier, no longer sporting the jeans and tank top she'd worn when Alice saw them moving in; now, she was wearing a skirt that was far too short, nearly showing off her ass, and a thin sweater that hugged her large breasts and showed off her hard nipples. Apparently she didn't bother with a bra. "Speak of the devil," Kaitlin said, looking to the stairwell; at first she was smiling, but at seeing what her daughter was wearing, that quickly devolved into a frown. "Melissa, honey, come meet our new neighbor, Alice." Melissa paused only long enough at the bottom of the stairs to look over toward her mother and the guest before shrugging mildly. "I'd love to mom, but I'm heading out. John called; he's taking me to the club. So... you know... bye." She didn't wait before turning and walking toward the front door. "Honey, we just moved in here! Can't you stay home for one single night? We haven't even put your bed together yet!" Kaitlin replied, exasperated. As far as Alice could determine, this wasn't exactly a new conflict between the two of them. "Mom, it's boring here. No TV. No internet. No anything. I'm going out." "And I say no." Kaitlin replied, crossing her arms over her chest. Melissa was not cowed, however; instead, the young blonde laughed and rolled her eyes. "Okay mom, sure. Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow." She reached for the door knob, but before she could turn it Alice spoke up. "Wait," She said, sending the full force of her will out into the room. Unlike Kaitlin's stern protest of her daughter's activity, this actually stopped the rebellious young college student. Both Melissa and her mother turned to look at Alice. "You're being awfully rude, Melissa," Alice said, in a mock chiding way. "And your mother was just telling me how her baby girl was all grown up. But, from the way you're acting, you seem like more of a child than anything." While she was speaking, her fingers were moving rapidly in a predesigned pattern, weaving a spell that would alter the reality for these two women. Unlike the fun she'd had with Ty and Becky, this would be a much more slow-acting spell, and thus something she could watch unfold and savor. Very soon, these women's lives would begin to change. "You should listen to your mother. You could use this as a chance to bond with her, instead of running out with some boy." Alice's words were beginning to sink in; Melissa pulled her hand away from the door, even though she wasn't entirely certain why. Moments ago she'd wanted nothing more than to blow out of this boring dump, but now she felt compelled to stick around. It was the strangest thing. "I think you owe your mother an apology for acting so immature," Alice said, crossing her arms over her own chest. Melissa gazed down to the floor, staring at her shoes like a scolded child. "Sorry, mom." The managed to murmur, toing the hardwood floor. The apology brought a new smile to Kaitlin's lips, as she looked between her daughter and her neighbor. "Thank you, sweetheart. Why don't you go back upstairs and get some rest so we can spend the day unpacking tomorrow?" She suggested. Normally, Melissa would have fought the notion of spending a day with her mother, let alone doing it and a chore at the same time. But she was feeling exceptionally docile, completely out of the blue, and found herself nodding in agreement. "Yes mom..." And, slowly, she started to walk away from the door and back up the stairs, to her bedroom. Once there, she changed from her clothes into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt that hugged her huge breasts, like almost every other shirt she wore. She hadn't been sleepy earlier, but after the suggestion, all she could do was think about bed. This left Alice and Kaitlin alone in the living room. "I don't know how you did it, but thank you," Kaitlin said to Alice, once her daughter was out of earshot. "I swear, sometimes that girl can be a handful." Alice grinned brightly, and laughed softly. "I guess I just have a way with people. Maybe this will be a chance for the two of you to reconnect after all." ---- Melissa woke up early the next morning with the sun streaming through her window. She hadn't even bothered to hang her curtains, since she hadn't exactly planned on being home when the sun came up in the morning. She'd spend the night sleeping on the mattress on her floor, since the bed frame had yet to be assembled. She'd slept like a baby, curled under the nest of blankets she'd piled on the mattress before bedding down for the night. As comfortable as she was, Melissa hated to get out of bed. With a sigh, she pulled her thumb out of her mouth, which she had been comfortably sucking on in her sleep. ... And that made her blink in surprise. The college student looked down to her moist thumb with confusion. Since when had she started sucking her thumb? She'd given that up when she was a little girl. Strange. Melissa threw back the covers and stretched, bringing her arms above her head and arching her back. That was when she noticed that her shirt felt a little loose, something that it certainly hadn't been last night. Practically all of her clothing fit her curves exactly, even the stuff she wore around the house. But here she was, stretching in her bed, and there was room in the front of her shirt. Even more mysteries. And it was too early in the morning to think about them. Certainly the shirt had just stretched out in her sleep or something like that. She crawled out of the bed and started down the stairs. Her mother was already awake, and in the kitchen putting the rest of the things away. When Melissa came walking in there, Kaitlin looked to her in surprise. "Well, you sure are up early!" Her mother said with a little laugh. "I don't think I've seen you at this hour in years." "Yeah," Melissa answered, groggily. "I just woke up. I didn't think I could get any more sleep, I guess." She shrugged, shuffling over to the refrigerator; opening the door, she looked inside to what was available. Melissa passed over her normal selection of juice, opting instead for the gallon of milk they had just picked up yesterday afternoon; she wasn't quite sure why, but she had a strong craving for milk. A glass was poured, and she sat down at the table to sip at it. "So, are you going to help me with the unpacking today?" Kaitlin asked her daughter, turning to lean against the counter and face her. Melissa rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yeah mom, I guess so. It couldn't hurt." The answer, even not the most enthusiastic, seemed to please Kaitlin, who started smiling and clasped her hands together in front of her. "Oh good! I'm so glad you had a change of mind. I have so much stuff in the living room to go through. I even found a bunch of your old stuff from when you were little." For some reason, this prompted Melissa to perk up a bit; she wasn't sure why, but she wanted to go through those things. After she finished her milk, she and her mother went into the living room to sort through the things; they didn't make a terrible lot of progress, as the both of them stopped to reminisce about half of the things they found. Old boxes were broken down, and things were placed in new, plastic storage bins for safe keeping. Most of the things they went through had been Melissa's childhood toys, and seeing them brought up pangs of nostalgia. By the time the sun set, she'd kept a few things out; she assured her mother it was just for old time's sake, but she desperately wanted to have a couple of those things in her bedroom. Around 9pm, Melissa shuffled into her bedroom with her childhood blanket and an old, forgotten stuffed animal tucked under her arm. Both were dropped onto the mattress so she could change for bed. She wasn't used to getting tired so early; since she'd turned 18, Melissa had definitely been a late night person, staying out until the wee hours of the morning and rarely seeing bed before the sun was already starting to crest. But here she was, on a Friday night, ready to go to sleep at a normal hour. She didn't quite understand it. She shrugged out of the clothing she'd worn during the day, pulling her pajamas out of the dresser drawer. Standing there, nude, she glanced into the mirror, seeing something that wasn't quite right. She lifted her hands to her breasts, cupping the mounds in her palms. They looked smaller to her, and didn't feel quite as heavy; she bounced them in her palms a couple of times to test it, and sure enough, they didn't feel nearly right. She'd been a D cup for years, but here they were looking closer to a larger C. Wanting to test again, she gently squeezed them. The gesture brought out a small whimper, as she didn't realize just how sensitive they were. This time, instead of squeezing, she began to gently trace her fingertips around the swells of her flesh, running slowly and smoothly on the underside, tracing up to her perky, hard nipples and running circles around the areolas. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure down her spine, and not entirely from the touching; there was a sense of the forbidden, a sense of exploration... like she was exploring her body for the first time. This registered in the back of her mind, as this certainly wasn't the first time she'd toyed with herself. There was something about this time, though, that made it seem different. Her pussy began to quickly moisten. A hand slipped down from her breasts, fingers running between her thighs and over her shaven mound; her index finger rubbed slow circles on her clit, while her other hand mimed the motions on her nipples. Standing there in front of the mirror, she could see every motion she made; the way her jaw was open just slightly as she took in short, gasping breaths, the wide look in her eyes as she stared at herself masturbating, the raising of goosebumps along her full, firm breasts while she toyed. She was enrapt with watching herself. The fingers between her legs began to rub quicker, venturing further down so that they could slip inside of her waiting, wet hole. She was tighter than she remembered. It was a struggle to fit two fingers inside of her, but with a little work (and the help of how wet she was), she managed, moving them slowly in and out of herself. The Witch Next Door Ch. 02 She felt her knees buckle, and was forced to pull her hand away from her breasts to grab the edge of the dresser to steady herself; this prompted a gasp, for she couldn't quite recall when she had felt pleasure so intensely. Her fingers were working faster, harder, slamming into her pussy over and over; her hand on the dresser clenched, gripping hard, as the orgasm neared. Finally, with a low moan and her eyes rolling back in her head, Melissa came, deep and hard. Her thighs were soaked, her fingers were soaked, and her head was swimming. She staggered back from the dresser and fell back onto the mattress. Sleep overtook her quickly. ---- Melissa awoke bright and early, curled in the blankets atop her mattress; held in the crook of her arm was the stuffed animal she'd brought up to her room the night before, and tucked under her head was the old blanket. She yawned and stretched, pushing back the covers and rolling out of bed. After her orgasm last night she hadn't bothered to dress, so she now shuffled over to her dresser to find clothes for the day. That's when she stepped in front of the mirror and noticed something that certainly was different from last night. Staring into the mirror, Melissa's reflection was a far cry from the normal, busty one she had become accustomed to; where her full, heavy tits had been last night, nearly nothing remained. Her D cup was gone... hell, even the slightly smaller bust she'd been sporting before she went to bed was gone. Now she barely had two mounds on her chest worth calling breasts; Melissa wasn't even sure if these things needed a training bra, let alone the real deal. She lifted her hands to her chest, running her fingers over the newly flattened area in shock. There was nothing more she could do for those several long moments but stare at herself, wondering if this was some kind of strange dream that she needed to wake up from. But no matter how long she waited, she never woke up. "Moooooom," The low cry came from her throat before she realized what she was doing; Melissa was quick to throw on a t-shirt and pajama pants and head from her room. She hadn't felt a shirt be this loose in the chest since she was a little girl. The college student all but sprinted through the hall, down the stairs, and into the living room. ... And came to a skidding halt at the bottom of the steps. There, sitting topless on the couch with that weird neighbor from a few nights before, was her mother. Melissa wasn't quite sure which part shocked her more -- the fact that her mother was sitting naked from the waist up, or the fact that her mother's breasts had grown so substantially over the last couple of days while Melissa's were busy shrinking. Her mother was holding one of her large breasts in one hand while the other gently kneaded the areola before pinching gently on the nipple. When she did, a few beads of white liquid appeared in the center; another pinch had a small stream squirt out, onto the floor. "I'm sorry, Ms. Alice," Kaitlin said with a quiet laugh. "They've been so tender for the last couple of days. And this morning they started doing this. I don't know what's happening to me." "Mom..." Melissa started, stepping forward. Both women on the couch looked over to her simultaneously; Kaitlin let go of her breast, causing the heavy flesh to drop and bounce on her chest. "What's going on here? Why aren't you wea-..." She was cut off when Alice raised her hand, palm up, toward Melissa. "Hush, darling. Grown-ups are talking." Melissa could feel her cheeks flush red, but curiously enough she silenced immediately. Not only did she find herself unable to talk, but the desire to speak while these two were talking evaporated completely. "Now," Alice began, smoothly, "it's perfectly natural for a mommy like you to be lactating with a daughter. It's just your body doing what it's supposed to do," The dark haired with said with a curving smile. A brief flash of confusion flared in Kaitlin's eyes before she nodded slowly. "I guess that does make sense..." The topless mother murmured. "I just didn't think I'd still be lactating with my daughter in college and all. Doesn't it seem like it's a bit late for that?" Alice just shook her head. "Oh, no. It's perfectly common when you have a daughter as immature as Melissa," her eyes drifted back to the young woman standing at the base of the stairs. Suddenly Melissa felt as if she were a deer caught in headlights. Alice pushed herself up from the couch, moving over toward where Melissa stood, frozen in place. "She might have looked mature on the outside, but after watching her behave the other night I could tell what she really was." Alice laid her hand on Melissa's stomach, fingers curling under the hem of her t-shirt. "And look. Her body is reverting to something more appropriate for her attitude." Slowly, Alice began to tug the shirt upward, exposing her stomach inch by inch until it reached the underside of what remained of her tits; Melissa found herself frighteningly compliant, not bothering to resist this strange woman in the least bit. Without so much as a whimper, her shirt was lifted over her head and tossed to the side. "See? Those curves that made people think she was mature seem to be melting away. So nobody will be fooled again." The last sentence was issued in a near whisper; Alice moved behind Melissa with a predatory grace, not once taking her hands away from her flesh. Standing behind her, the witch cupped her tiny mounds and pressed slightly. A warmth spread through her chest, accompanied by a tingling pleasure. Melissa moaned. She couldn't help herself. "There," Alice spoke so closely to Melissa's ear that she could feel her lips brush against it. "All gone." Her fingers slowly slipped away, nails tracing teasing paths on her pale flesh in the process. Melissa looked down to see that what had remained of her breasts were completely gone, leaving her entirely flat chested; her hard, tiny nipples poked straight out where her tits had been only a couple of days ago. Tears began to well up in her eyes. "Oh, it's okay sweety," Alice said, teasingly. "I'm just making things the way they should be. Your mother wanted you to be closer to her, and you acted like an immature child. So what better way to fix both problems than to do a little regression with you? Now, since you acted like a spoiled little girl, I think you'd better have a name that suits you better. Melissa is such an adult name. It doesn't fit a silly little girl like you. I think Missy would be much better, don't you?" Melissa blinked as a dull pain formed inside her head; at the witch's command, Missy's brain began to re-write itself. She couldn't use an adult name like Melissa. She was a Missy. She always had been, and always would be. It was silly of her to have tried to be more mature than she really was and call herself something else. Apparently Alice saw a growing understanding in her eyes, as the woman smirked and nodded. "Much better, right? Now there's a few other things that we need to fix before I can leave you nice and happy with your mommy. Such as, you talk too much like a big girl. I want you to forget all of those big words that you'll never need. A immature girl like you doesn't need big ole' words, right?" Missy found herself nodding, blinking, as her expanded vocabulary fled her mind. Years of education erased in an instant, leaving her with only a basic grasp of the English language. "And you are still dressing like a big girl, aren't you? We're going to have to get rid of all of your adult clothes so you can be your mommy's little girl forever. But, there's just one more thing to make it right." Missy turned her head, looking over her shoulder to Alice, silently asking what it was. "There's one thing that big girls can do, that you can't." Alice's hand crept around the waist of the woman in her early twenties, reaching around to the hem of her waistband. She didn't slip her fingers inside, as Missy was expecting. Instead, she just pressed lightly down; once again, Missy felt a spreading warmth and a pleasurable tingle as the witch pulled her hand away. Missy felt weak in the knees; the touch was more pleasurable than she thought, because she found herself growing quickly wet. ... Abnormally wet, actually. Missy was confused as she felt the crotch of her pajama pants grow damp; at first she thought she was just exceptionally turned on, but when the warm moisture didn't stop a dawning realization hit her. Missy stood there before her mother and neighbor peeing her pants. The witch had taken away her bladder control. She whimpered softly as the urine flowed down her legs, pooling around her feet on the floor below her; she glanced down to the growing puddle, aghast. She tried to form a simple sentence, something that wouldn't have been a problem for her moments ago. All that came out, however, was, "Mommy, I think I have accident." "Oh, honey, that's okay," Kaitlin said, rising from the couch, "Ms. Alice was thoughtful enough to bring over a package of diapers for you." While her mother was smiling, Missy's stomach dropped. She couldn't form the words to express it, even to properly think it. But the dread was there, the dread of what this woman had turned her life into. The tears began to spill down her cheeks, flowing rapidly. Her mother rushed over to her, taking her into her arms. "It's okay, Missy. It was just an accident. We can clean you right up, and then get you some nice, yummy milk for breakfast." Missy knew what that meant; she started to shake her head, but two whispered words from Alice sealed that fate. "Drink up."