More Madness

"Come on in," Mathers smirked at the sight of me. "I suppose you've grown sick and tired of the magical Viagra?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, pushing past him into the dusty museum. "Try to wipe that shit eating grin off your face, people's lives are at stake."

His face clouded and he turned to me, asking for details. I gave the most basic of descriptions of the last few days that I could. He nodded a few times, hummed others. Frowned a bit and then grew pensive.

After a while he turned a keen eye towards Emma, looking at her with an expression of utmost pity. He asked if she had been afflicted by my curse and I nodded in affirmation. That made his frown deepen. He looked like a basset hound with how much his whole face seemed to droop in the expression.

He scurried off somewhere before returning just as quick with a large dusty tome, rapidly flicking through its pages until he found something. We were stood there for a small eternity as he conferred with the information, muttering to himself, shaking his head in some kind of unspoken disagreement with the book, and occasionally nodding along as though listening to news he found acceptable. He went over to the table behind us and procured a small red talisman that looked...frankly cheap and fake.

"Ok," he said after a long moment. "I have some idea how to help you."

He turned to Emma and gave an apologetic smile. "Young lady, before we begin, I must ask for two things."

Emma blinked. "Uh...sure?"

"First, I ask for your forgiveness, because this is partially my screw up," He shook his head ruefully. "I let Mr Taylor's situation get out of hand because I was curious about the curse. I'm truly sorry you and the other young ladies got caught up in this."

"Um....its fine?" She shifted a little, "can you fix this? It's ...taking all my focus not to try and fuck Ben."

"That's the second thing," he explained, leading her to the back room, "I'm going to need you to wait in here while the ritual is going."

Instinctively I felt put off by this. "Why is that necessary?" I looked at Emma and then back at Mathers, "If anything, Emma's the most trustworthy person I know. She won't blab about your weird magic freak show."

The old man waved that concern away. "It's not that which troubles me," he gestured to the talisman, "the spell requires me to essentially drain the curse from you and place it into a container of sorts. No one else can be in the room other than the caster and the cursed one."

Now, I couldn't really tell if this was bullshit or not. But considering everything that had happened, I really didn't have a reason to doubt the man, so I nodded at Emma to do as she was bid.

Mathers drew a pentagram in chalk on the floor and asked me to stand in the middle while he placed a different inscription around the talisman. Frankly it all looked like childish nonsense, but the old guy was in full zen mode preparing everything.

"Before we begin," I asked, "will this fix the girls?"

The old man hummed. "Their violent libido will lessen to that of a normal persons," he turned to give me a disapproving frown, "but the girls you have sired, the children born from this curse...while they may no longer be consumed by madness, they will still be connected to you and unnaturally receptive to your seed."

I pursed my lips. "In English?"

"For fuck's sake," he rolled his eyes,"your demon daughters will still have some attraction to you. But it'll be more like how any woman would be attracted to a cute guy. They won't go all Basic Instinct on your ass again. Also, don't fuck them. They'll still get pregnant, just at a slower rate than now."

"Gotcha."

"Good, now shut up and let me get this done."

Mathers proceeded to read from the book. Now, I don't claim to have any arcane knowledge or deep understanding of the mystical arts, but I'm pretty sure the phrase he was reciting over and over again wasn't some ancient Latin biblical thing. I'm pretty damned sure it was "Klaatu barada nikto".

Motherfucker was quoting Evil Dead.

I was ready to call shenanigans when I felt...well, I don't know how I could describe it. There was a warmth in the air. Like a desert wind was blowing in and circling me, caressing every inch of me. Then...well, it kind of felt like I was peeing my pants. Except when I took a peak downstairs it was all clear.

Truly, it felt like the energy or curse was leaking from my dick and following the warm breeze as it lightly went towards the red talisman. I could feel it. There was definitely a transference going on, and some sexual frustration I seemed to be carrying for the last few days began to lessen. Relief flooded through my being.

Mathers continued his chanting, steadily rising in volume until he was shouting the words out, commanding the curse to leave my body and go into its new vessel. My heart was pounding like a war drum in my chest. Blood was in my ears. It was working!

...but then a shaft of light cut through the museum and a figure suddenly walked between me and the talisman. Standing before me was my wife with eyes full of anger and concern. "Ben! What the fuck is this?!?"

I opened my mouth to warn her, but it was too late. As if sensing a more receptive host, a gust of energy suddenly left the talisman and flooded into Jess. It was all I could do to catch my wife before she collapsed to the ground. Mathers had stopped his chanting and rushed over to us.

"Jesus Christ!" He snarled, "what the he'll happened?!?"

I stared at my wife's unconscious face. "She...got between me and the talisman..."

"The ritual is incomplete!" He swallowed back another curse, "this is terrible! A calamity!"

I frowned. "So I'm still...cursed?"

"The curse...has been divided between the two of you."

I was still trying to process exactly what he meant by that when Jess suddenly sprang to life in my arms and squirmed away, writhing in agony at some unseen force. I went to comfort her but Mathers held me back, my wife violently ridding herself of her pants.

The old man grimace. "You see, she is cursed, as you are!"

And saw I did. Between Jess' pants, sitting above her cute little pussy, was dick that was almost identical to my own and weeping a steady trail of cum.