No, but you'll have to anyway

"Ready to fuck me now, Master?" Maisie says softly in your ear. It's pretty clear that physically, you're ready to go. Just the feel of her modest curves against your back has your dick half-hard.

"I... don't know," you admit. "I'm still thinking about some stuff."

"Is this about what that silly idiot said, Master?" Maisie clucks. "Just ignore her. I'm hot, you're ready, and I want your cock in my pussy!"

You slide out of her embrace, get out of your bed, and start dressing, awkwardly stuffing your penis into your underwear. "You can go if you want," you say. "I'll call a cab, pay for it to take you home."

"But I don't want to go, Master! I want you to fuck me!"

"I'm not... I'm not ready for that now," you decide. "Go home, Maisie."

"Like this, Master?" She sounds eager to be sent out nude, with the **** exhibitionism.

"Not like that. Maisie, your body's back to normal, get dressed, go home. Just, also, Maisie, text me every day, just so I know you're safe. And when you get home... be real with me. I don't care if your texts are full of vitriol, I just need to know that you're safe."

"Ugh, I don't want you to let her out, Master. She'll tell you a bunch of mean lies and make you feel bad."

You just shake your head lightly and refuse to look as she clambers out of your bed.

Then a voice you don't recognise at all comes from the direction of your bed, and you can also hear Maisie trying to open your bedroom door--which you're sure you didn't close--and failing. "Y'know, usually it takes a little while before I have to intervene."

That makes you turn around--you make sure to do so in the direction that won't have your eyes passing over Maisie's nude form--and you see, lounging on your bed, what you can only think of as the most attractive, alluring, sexual fantasy of a woman you could possibly imagine, dressed in what looks like an erotic parody of a stereotypical witch outfit. Just the way her body heaves as she breathes makes your cock twitch harder, and you suspect that if she speaks again you'll bust a nut in your pants.

"Holy fuck, Master. I don't have a gay bone in my body but if she asked me to eat her snatch I'd do it without even thinking."

"Lucky for you that I've not got a sexual bone in my body, then," the living, breathing embodiment of sex says. "So I'm not here for that. I've got some things to tell you, about why this isn't going to work the way you want it to." She waves a hand and abruptly your surroundings shift from the bedroom to your small sitting area. Maisie's dressed again, sitting with her legs under her on a chair. You're on your couch, and the woman is seated primly on your other chair.

"Maisie," she says, "you can't move from there for now, but you'll need to be real with us for this."

Instantly Maisie's expression changes and she glares daggers at you. She's clearly about to start yelling at you but the strange woman just holds up a hand. "We'll talk later," Maisie says, in that too-calm voice that promises overwhelming anger in the near future.

"Who are you?" you ask.

The woman nods. "My apologies for the unconventional manner of my entrance. My name, well, the closest you could get to it is Jocelyn, and as you can probably guess, I'm a witch."

"A witch cursed my ancestor," Maisie says, still too calm. "So the family story goes, anyway."

Jocelyn nods again. "It's true. And I'm responsible for the current form of that curse, at least in this timeline." At your confused look at her last words, she hastily adds, "Forget I said that last bit."

Maisie tries to lunge out of the chair, but Jocelyn's command prevents her from leaving its confines.

"I need to explain it to you, so that you'll know why what you're about to do is a horrible mistake," the witch continues. "And so that you know why any vengeance you might try to take on me will be thoroughly futile."

She glances at you, and you just nod slightly. Maisie's nod follows, tight with suppressed rage.

"It was... well, it was a long time ago. I lived in a small village, and was in a coven with my two best friends. The closest names you could pronounce would probably be Sonia and Bethany, so I'll just go with those. Anyway, we were witches."

She sighs, the sigh of someone who's still holding on to her own guilt, the sigh of someone who's had to tell her story too often. "At least, we were friends, for a while. Then Sonia started thinking Bethany was stealing her boyfriends." Jocelyn chuckles a bit. "In truth, Bethany was just a better mate, for what mattered back then.

"Bethany denied it, of course. I didn't know who to believe--our magic didn't work on each other ordinarily, so it's not like I could've scried the matter clear and gotten them to reconcile. I just knew the men in town and knew what they wanted.

"Sonia's jealousy grew until she finally snapped. She cursed Bethany, a life curse, a terrible curse, sacrificing her own life to strip Bethany of her magic and compel her to obey."

"I thought you said you were responsible for the curse," you interject.

"I'm responsible for its current form," Jocelyn corrects. "Because Sonia's original curse compelled Bethany to obey all men, and it made her immortal, so that she'd have to suffer for the rest of time."

"So then why isn't she still around, and why am I cursed like this?" Maisie asks.

"Because I was selfish," Jocelyn admits. "Bethany was my best friend. Oh, we had both liked Sonia, as well, before she went off the rails, but me and Bethany, we were close. And I couldn't bear to see what was being done to her. Thankfully, witch magic never really dies, it just gets transferred. Sonia sacrificed her life, and Bethany lost her magic, and so all of their power concentrated in the only witch around."

"If you were three times as powerful as Sonia was, why couldn't you just undo it entirely?" you ask.

"One witch can't fully undo what another witch has done," Jocelyn explains. "Those first few days... Bethany was compelled to obey all men, in anything. And Sonia made sure, as part of her casting, that they all knew it. They were screaming commands at her constantly, making her do all sorts of degrading shit. Eventually I had to confine her to her bed with magic, today you'd call it involuntary protective custody. She tried to break free, I had to reinforce the bed, the walls... It took me a week to figure out how to temper the effects.

"As I said, I couldn't undo it. I was able to alter it, though. Bethany's immortality, I took that on myself--and no, it's not a boon for me, it's a curse as well. I have to watch my best friend's descendants suffer under the lingering effects of what Sonia did. I managed to contain the compulsion, so that it would be restricted only to one man, and that man wouldn't be able to control any of the others, because to take the immortality on myself and give my friend the release of **** I had to transfer the curse to Bethany's entire bloodline. But the curse still demands to be used. That's what you need to know. Sonia intended to punish Bethany as hard as she could, and the curse demands that that punishment continue. If its bearers aren't punished enough, it will shift, it will change, to make sure that they are. I couldn't fix that." She hangs her head. "I'm sorry. For that, I am so, so sorry."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Maisie asks.

"It means that if he isn't ordering you, if he isn't using you, in ways you don't entirely like, the curse won't stay attached to him," the witch explains. "One day, you'll find yourself free of his compulsion... and compelled to tell another man, a man you'll hate far more, about it, a man the curse knows will **** the crap out of you. At least he was willing to make you happy about it."

"And so in turn I have to be willing to give her orders that she won't like, to keep her safe from a man who will do that without remorse?"

"It was part of the price I paid to keep Bethany safe," Jocelyn admits. "As I said, I was selfish. I managed to have Bethany compelled to obey me, because I couldn't bear to see her suffer under any man's dominion, at the cost of exposing all of her descendants that way. We were both bi, in case you're curious, so yes, that involved plenty of sex. But it did also involve my letting some men knock her up, to make sure she'd have descendants. And..."

"And what?" Maisie asks.

"And... I make sure that she always will, that the curse will never die. Because that was the final price I paid, the most selfish thing I did to mitigate its effects otherwise. If her line ever dies out, if ever she doesn't have a living female descendant, the curse rebounds on me. The full, original curse, Sonia's hatred in all its unbridled, unholy glory. I'll be immortal, bereft of magic, and compelled to obey every man I see for the rest of time, and they'll all know it." She pauses. "And yes, that means that at some point, if you never lift it, your infertility command will fail, and you'll have a daughter. Probably more than one."

"Who'd get your magic then?" you ask, deciding not to think about her last warning.

"I have no idea," Jocelyn admits. "Probably just find some random woman and shove it all into her. Witches have died out by now, except for me, of course, so that's a lot of power. Maybe it'd disperse and the world would be back in an age of magic."

"If you're bi, what's with the body and the lack of sex drive?" Maisie puts in.

"I was bi. Sonia thought I might try to tamper with it, of course. Just a nasty little trap. Gave me this body, but made my sex drive die with Bethany. Well, more precisely, **** me to look like the most sexually desirable woman in the world and have absolutely no interest in acting on it. Thankfully my magic's good enough to keep anyone from hitting on me, or worse." She chuckles. "I still have ideas, though. If you ever find some really depraved stuff on the internet that looks like it's written by someone with more of an academic command of the language--this is hardly my first language, obviously--well, maybe it's me. I guess I'm proof that it's true what they say about asexual perverts."

"So, if I've got this right, you're saying that if I don't use Maisie, if I don't take advantage of her curse, it'll transfer to someone even worse?"

"Pretty much." Jocelyn turns to the other woman. "I don't expect that you'll forgive him for what he did. I don't want you to forgive me at all; I don't deserve it, I'm a selfish bitch who's been hating herself for what she did for millennia. I just want you to understand why you were about to make such a terrible mistake. At least this way you'll know that the man who owns you--and yes, it really is a form of ownership, just like you said--feels remorse and guilt about it. Your choice isn't between that and freedom, Maisie. It's between that, and someone who wouldn't know what a conscience is if it shoved itself up his butt."

"What about Linda and Denise?" she asks.

"Denise was clever. Her husband genuinely loves her, and she him, and he doesn't push her boundaries... much. You know how they make sure the curse doesn't transfer?" Jocelyn chuckles again. "Denise hates anal. Absolutely despises it. But every so often he orders her to let him fuck her butt, and she agrees to it even as she's never come to enjoy it in the slightest. And that's enough to trick the lingering remnants of Sonia's wrath." Then the witch sighs. "As for Linda... don't tell her, please. She told someone, and that person isn't choosing not to order her, he can't order her, for obvious reasons. So the curse isn't forcing her to find a new partner, I managed to give widows that mercy, but if another man were to find out, yes, he'd be able to control her. So please, please don't tell her. She's happy in her ignorance and letting her remain so is the least I can do to remember Bethany and spite Sonia."

Both of you nod in agreement.

"What will you do now?" you ask.

"Vanish. Keep a scrying pool on Bethany's descendants. Stop them before they make a mistake like you were about to." She stands up. "Like I said, I don't expect your forgiveness, and I don't deserve your pity. Hate me all you want... just, please, don't hate each other. Please, for Bethany, if not for me... be happy together, as best you can." She walks over to Maisie and plants a kiss on the crown of her head. "Try to be happy, Maisie. I know it's hard, I know it feels like your life is ruined... but it doesn't have to be. I've seen it happen, even from a bad start like this."

She stands up straight again. "The curse isn't all bad, either. Yes, he's going to have to use you in ways you won't like, Maisie, but in between those moments he can use it--you can use it, together--to do all sorts of incredible things. I'll say no more and let your imaginations come up with the rest. But I'll leave you with one little gift, you'll find out soon enough." With those enigmatic words lingering in the air, Jocelyn vanishes.

Maisie takes a deep breath of her own. "So are you going to command me to be happy about this, Master?" she asks.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, either," you say quietly. "You can hate me too, if you want."

"I... don't forgive you, not for what you've already done," Maisie agrees. "I don't think I hate you any more, though. And maybe... maybe, if you don't just order me around like a puppet, maybe I'd be happy to call you a friend again."

"Fuck that Sonia bitch, though."

"Fuck that Sonia bitch," Maisie echoes.

"Do you still want to go home?" you ask. "I'm sure we could pick this up tomorrow without getting the curse angry at you."

"No... no," Maisie decides. "I don't want you to fuck me, Master. But I need you to do it."

And this time you don't even have to ask her to strip off, march up to your bedroom with you in tow, and spread herself on the bed.

"Well, come on, let's get this over with," she says. "I can tell you're ready to go, after all." She moves her body enticingly, and you feel your erection coming back in full ****.

You hurriedly strip off yourself, and no sooner are you naked than the eroticism of the situation brings you to an even earlier ejaculation, though your cumshot is quite a bit more powerful than you're used to, reaching all the way to your bed to splatter over Maisie's chest.

"I think I know what her gift was, Master. Want to get a ruler?"

You try a little dirty talk of your own, feeling silly and awkward. "How about we measure it by how far I can shove it in your twat?" you suggest instead.

And with a squeal from Maisie that might actually have a touch of genuine pleasure in it, you shove what you're sure has to be at least a foot of thick, hard cockmeat into her, and discover that you've got just as much sexual stamina, and just as much capacity for orgasm, as you'd ordered her to have.