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Succubus Episode By Jacquie Windsor ------------------- This story is fictional. The main characters are tributes to copyrighted characters somewhere. No infringement is expected to be taking place, apart from the usual. This story may be posted elsewhere in full only with the express consent of the author. Saturday, December 30, 2000. [email protected] Eric provided editorial comments resulting in a number of changes, although the ending wasn't quite what he envisioned. If trite dialogue, scenes of stupidity, and implacable naivety offend you, you should read no further. ------------------- PROLOGUE This is a story about three little girls, who graduated from the Police Academy, and were assigned to very dangerous duties--wait--wrong three little girls.....OK...."'I am the Son and the Heir, I am human and I need to be loved--'....They possess the Power of Three....They are 'The Charmed Ones'" ------------------- Piper has been discovered to be distantly related to a succubus--a bloodthirsty species of minor female daemon that survives on the life forces of human males. Prue casts a spell to assume the form of a man in order to uncover her secret. Phoebe, as usual, doesn't help much. Instead she frets about her hair and her clothes and generally makes everyone aware of her keen fashion sense. Actually, Prue and Piper have pretty good tastes in clothes, too. Prue (in the guise of a man) has brought Piper to a lonely warehouse near a pier. Evidently Piper is a cheap date. ------------------- Piper sat on an oil drum as the handsome dark-haired man stood in front of her. She felt disoriented. "Where am I? And who'd you say you were?" she whined. Prue stared at her sister. Possessed with the soul of a life-sucking beast, she assumed Piper was feigning innocence, to lure her into a false sense of security. She was prepared for just about anything. Since her own magic was still resident in her female form, Prue brought a few old magical summoning and conjuration devices with her. "I know what you are. You were sent here by Distomon Abraxones, an ancient enemy of our Halliwell ancestors--er-- that is, those Halliwell ancestors." Prue hoped the beast inside Piper hadn't noticed her mistake, revealing that she was not the fine looking man who stood before her on the pier. "Prue--I can tell that's you in there," replied Piper. "Piper?" ventured Prue. "I thought you were possessed by the succubus still. That's why I brought you here--to defeat the monster--without harming you." "Oh, Prue, thank you--I love you--but I was able to do it myself by re-casting the 'Away Succubus' spell from page 304 of the Book Of Shadows. Remember? You, Phoebe and me learned that one last season." "Oh? Did we? I guess I forgot all about that." "I understand," replied Piper, straightening her pretty, low-cut evening dress as it clung effortlessly to her skin. "Sheesh--it's kind of cold down here by the waterfront, isn't it? I mean, at least you have a suit to keep you from freezing, Prue." "Yes, nice tailoring. This guy whose body I switched with has good taste in clothes." "Uh--Prue--I just thought of something." "What is it? Is the succubus returning?" "No. Where is your body right now? I mean, you had to switch, right? So some guy's running around as Prue, isn't he?" "That's so clever of you, Piper. Grams would be proud of your terribly accurate logic." Prue scratched her head. She smiled as Piper grew more anxious about the fate of Prue's real body. "You know what, Piper? I think I left him in the house. And by now Phoebe's probably back from the mall." Piper stared at the pure, strong physical specimen in front of her. "Just left him there to run around in your body?" "Of course not. I was only teasing. I actually tied him up, in case this took longer than I thought it would." "Considering it's around midnight," offered Piper, "I would guess that Phoebe's been back from shopping for some time now." She stood up and drew closer to her older--usually wiser--sister. "Tell me, Prue," she said softly, "in that body, don't you feel a certain, well, something? I mean, if your real body is all tied up and everything, you--we--must have some time to kill." Piper fluttered her eyelids and pretended to straighten Prue's jacket. Prue, meanwhile, looked down at the cute brunette, into her sparkling eyes, then settling her gaze on Piper's creamy, soft cleavage. "Don't be shy, Prue. You can't even look me straight in the eye. And it seems you are quite happy to see me or something." Prue drew several deep breaths. Her lips closed upon Piper's luscious mouth and she guided the man's strong arms around her sister's slender, inviting body. "But--what--about--Phoebe?" she gasped, fully aware of the erection filling her trousers. "Tell me you don't want this," answered Piper. "Phoebe can take care of herself for a few minutes longer. She's a witch, remember?" Deep inside Prue's mind, she briefly considered this. Phoebe was a witch, certainly, whose only magical ability was clairvoyance. That would be of no help if a warlock attacked her as Prue was using a man's body to sexually satisfy her sister on the dock in the middle of the night. On the other hand, the hem of Piper's dress was practically up by her waist, and her legs were firmly wrapped around the man's body, rubbing herself energetically into his cock. "Oh yes, Piper, oh yes," moaned Prue. "We've got to do something about this first." Prue struggled out of the suit, allowing Piper to stroke the man's hard dick. Soon the witch with the ability to freeze time was naked on her back, guiding the borrowed body's erection into her pussy. "God, this is really quite fun," thought Prue, thrusting deep into her sister. "I've got to remember this spell." ------------------- Phoebe stared blankly at Prue. "Prue, have you been doing that kinky bondage stuff with those police friends of yours again?" "Damn you, I said 'No'. My name's Perry. I'm an investment banker from Palo Alto," explained the confused man tied up to a kitchen chair, in Prue's body. "I wake up in somebody else's house--in some slut's body." "Prue--you might not have a steady boyfriend or anything--but you're hardly a slut. Now me--I'm more of slut, really, when it comes down to it." The man inhabiting Prue's form looked down at himself. All he could see was a tight wrap dress with a set of big round breasts protruding from his chest. Usually he'd feel quite aroused by that view, but instead felt only somehow "cute". Phoebe nodded at Prue. Her vision blurred abruptly and she looked as though she'd been hit with a small mallet. A clairvoyant apparition suddenly materialised in her head--Piper, laying on her back on a pier, making love to a rather handsome guy--from what Phoebe could see of him. "Oops, looks like I kind of intruded on something--" Phoebe's head wagged as she shook away the effects of her unpredictable ability. "Hello, hello--Earth to whoever you are--" Prue was squirming against the bonds. "Can you untie me now?" Phoebe rubbed her forehead slowly. "Of course, Prue. Just please don't bring all your kinky games home next time, won't you?" She undid the ropes, and Perry scrambled to his feet, squeezing his hands to revive the circulation. He had to get out of wherever he was--whoever he was. "Prue, I just saw Piper. She's--uh--kind of looks like she's--well she's having too much fun to be a succubus any more. Maybe you cured her?" "I didn't cure anybody, you stupid girl. And my name's Perry, not Prue. I don't know who the hell you are, and I have no idea what I'm doing with boobs and--" Perry felt between his legs. "--and a cunt." "Prue, that language isn't like you!" admonished Phoebe. "I've been telling you that, dummy. I am not Prue!" "Well," thought Phoebe aloud, "if you aren't Prue, you must be a warlock." "A warlock? What are you--the world's dumbest bitch?" "I'm not a bitch, Prue!" Phoebe stood up angrily and stalked across the room. Perry, in Prue's curvaceous form, kept hurling random insults at her, narrowing her eyes in anger. At once, a book flew off the nearby table and missed Phoebe's head by inches, crashing into the wall beyond her. Perry was astonished. His ruby lips parted, yet he remained wordless. "Prue! Don't do that! I'm sorry I got mad at you, OK? Now knock it off." Perry stared at the shapely witch across the room, then shifted his gaze to the crumpled shape of the book lying on the carpet. "Sure, I'll knock it off--I guess." "Listen, why don't you just stay here and cool down, Prue. I've got to go get Piper--er--wherever she is--" Phoebe didn't want to disclose her premonition of Piper making love on the waterfront, fearing that Prue could begin to worry. Right now the clairvoyant felt that her sister needed to relax. "Sure--go ahead," agreed Perry, to Phoebe's relief. "I am feeling kind of--weird inside--" Phoebe grabbed a shimmering black vinyl jacket and rushed towards the front door. "Hey, Prue, if anyone calls I'll be back in no time. You just watch some TV or something." Perry touched his body, disappointed in a way that it didn't feel quite as sexy inside a female form as it did looking at one--well--when he was still in his male body. He felt plainly pretty. He heard the front door swing shut as Phoebe left. He thought about what he might do, alone in the big house. He wandered out of the living room, pausing at the staircase leading up. Slowly, he climbed the stairs, aware of the difficulty in negotiating them with high heels strapped to his feet. At the top of the stairs he discovered a row of partly open doors leading to the girls' rooms. The entire ambience of the large house was spooky yet tidy. The rooms weren't any different. He peeked into each one, prepared for almost any surprise. He was quite certain that nothing could outdo the genuine surprise of finding himself inside a strange girl's body, so he assumed that the girl herself must have been naturally wary. The odd sensation of sending a book flying through the air at the squint of an eye led him to understand she was probably a little ill-tempered, too. Each door yielded a variation on the blackness theme; splashes of colour were limited to the pillowcases, a quilt, gilded bedposts, unusual-looking glassware, and the occasional throw rug. "Don't these girls know anything other than black? I mean they're taking this witchcraft thing a little seriously," he thought. Across the upstairs hallway from the three bedrooms was the door to the bathroom and another closed door. Perry reached out to turn the knob, but nothing happened. "Locked--gee-reat," he mumbled. He wandered into the bathroom. He looked into the mirror, becoming accustomed to the soft, black-haired female that returned his stare. "Oh dear," he sighed, "I should just have a shower and forget about it." He reached out to delicately turn the faucets, then disrobed and stepped into the stall. The warm spray felt good on the skin. ------------------- Phoebe arrived at the pier in time to see Piper and the man with whom Prue had swapped bodies, each straightening their clothes. Piper had a huge grin on her face. "Hi Piper, hope I'm not interrupting anything," said Phoebe. "Uh--no--not at all," answered her slender sister. "We were just--uh--talking." "Oh?" teased Phoebe. "About the night-time mating habits of fish?" "Yeah, that's it exactly. Uh--Phoebe--have you met-- Say, what is your name?" Piper turned to shoot Prue a wicked glance. "Never mind that," winked Prue. "This vision of nocturnal loveliness must be the wonderful Phoebe you told me so much about." "Er--yeah--," said Piper. She was tempted to explain everything to Phoebe, but Prue's male form evidently wished to explore its carnal spirit a bit further that evening. "Piper, weren't you going to go see your other sister or something?" Prue's hand extended to greet Phoebe. "I simply must learn all about this enchantress." To Piper's dismay, Prue was not going to give up trying to seduce Phoebe as well. Still, she had a thoroughly great time that evening, and knew that she had to return to the house to make sure that Perry was keeping out of trouble. "I'll have to think up something to stall him while Prue does her thing," she sighed to herself. "She sure puts the witch back in--uh--witch--" Prue put her arm around Phoebe and whispered into her vain sister's ear, watching Piper stroll away from the vicinity. "So, darling, have you ever seen the back seat of a Mercedes?" "No, I haven't," giggled Phoebe. "I'm sure it's very nice though. You have a Mercedes?" "Oh, indeed," replied Prue, enjoying the effect of her soothing baritone on the curvy witch nestled against her body. She slowly mumbled some secret words, while fumbling with a small obsidian wand, just out of Phoebe's line of vision. A magnificent black sedan materialised around the corner of a large shed. "After you, Phoebe," he said, opening the rear door to let her in. "Oo-ooh, this car smells brand new," winked Phoebe, "I just love that smell. This must have been very expensive." Prue shook her head in blind amazement at how shallow her sister was. Nevertheless, she was growing stimulated by the sight and feel of Phoebe's sexuality. The naivety and vanity merely served to increase his desire. "It's warm enough--you won't need that jacket in the car," smiled the man. Phoebe agreed instantly, shedding it and tossing it carelessly outside the car before climbing in ahead of her sister. The clairvoyant's clinging skirt was already riding up on her hips, and her generous breasts thrust out invitingly beneath the flimsiest, lowest-cut top imaginable. Using Perry's hands, Prue wordlessly removed the blouse and massaged Phoebe's breasts, moaning softly in her ear. Phoebe leaned up to seal a kiss upon his lips, while running her hand along the inside of the man's thigh. "No--don't kiss me there--kiss me here," groaned Prue, guiding Phoebe's head firmly towards her lap. Phoebe, knowing how to interpret a hint, skilfully unzipped the man's trousers and fished out the glorious erection. She stroked it for a second, then glanced up into his eyes. Just before beginning her well-honed oral technique, she spoke: "I thought I recognised you. You're Perry Throneberry. The investment banker. This really is a pleasure." Prue's heart skipped a nervous beat, yet she succumbed to the soothing feeling of Phoebe's wet mouth on her cock. She stroked her sister's black hair and pale back as the witch continued to suck her like a pro. Moments later, Phoebe felt the blast of semen fill her mouth and shoot down her throat. As good as she was, there was more than she could swallow, and it dripped copiously from her lips when Prue finally allowed her to regain a sitting position. "Funny thing is," remarked Phoebe, "my sister back home kept on mumbling something stupid about Perry this and Perry that. Isn't that kooky?" "Er--kooky--yes," said Prue. Her male member was relaxed after pumping its loads into Phoebe's mouth, yet she wanted more--eventually. There was just something about the curvaceous brunette in the back seat of the conjured vehicle, cum trickling from a pair of thick ruby lips. "Five minutes--I think we can go again," nodded Prue. "I'm that good?" Phoebe asked coyly, wiggling her shoulders to provoke a reaction from the man she assumed to be nothing other than Perry Throneberry. ------------------- Perry finished the shower, refreshed, wrapping a towel around his smooth body, and left the warmth of the bathroom for the cool hallway. Instinct guided him to the real Prue's room. He felt like appearing pretty, luxurious, attractive, and a wave of sensuality and uncommon fashion sense overcame his annoyance at being swapped with a woman. The cool air of the hallway hurried him along, and it was much easier to move along barefoot than it had been in those high heels. "Still, though, I won't feel completely dressed without the heels," he admitted to himself. Inside Prue's room, he found the clothes closet, swinging the door open to reveal a long rack of hanging black outfits. "Doesn't this chick have any other colours?" he thought. Rummaging along the line of clothes, he found few other colours, which came as a minor disappointment. He was finally able to select a casual-but-sexy mix of clingy outerwear--a sequinned tube-top, black leather skirt and an ethereal black shawl-like garment. He dropped the towel and struggled to fit the jazzy red tube-top over his smooth round boobs. Before struggling similarly into the skirt, he decided to procure a set of garters and lovely patterned stockings. He took unexpected pleasure at smoothing the stockings over his legs and attaching them to the garter clips. It was only as an afterthought that he remembered to put on a pair of panties. They were violet, clingy and sheer. "I would've fucked me in an instant," he thought, mildly amused at the irony of this revelation. Putting on the skirt, draping the shawl lazily over his shoulders, and selecting a raunchy pair of knee-high black boots, Perry Throneberry was convinced of his feminine sex appeal. By the time he left Prue's room, he was a vision of powerful womanhood. "All this--and magical powers? Not all bad, ol' Perry." He manoeuvred the curvy female form down the stairs with a gracefulness he was growing more comfortable with. As though possessed by an unseen hand, he slipped out the front door and onto the sidewalk, exactly at the same moment that Piper arrived at the mansion. The club operator, always the most enterprising and economical of the three Halliwell sisters, had taken a shortcut down the lane behind the house and entered it through the back door. "Prue? I mean, Perry?" she cried, too late to hear the front door shut. ------------------- Perry became immediately familiar with the two-edged sword of possessing a sexy female body, rustling and jiggling in cool provocation down a San Francisco boulevard. An old gentleman practically walked in front of a hurtling streetcar as Perry strolled past. Another fellow craned his neck from his spot on a bench, pulling a muscle and soon squirming painfully. Perry smiled inside--fully satisfied that he really appeared as the brunette bombshell whose house he'd just left. Another man whistled and called out rudely at her--'Hey, baby, wanna show me your tits?' Perry turned at him and shot him a withering glance. Accidentally, he unleashed Prue's telekinetic blast and the man flew backwards over a railing and into an ornamental rose bush. He squealed in pain--'Bitch!--Ow!'--as Perry covered his mouth and scrambled to escape a confrontation. "I forgot about that--that power," he grimaced. "Now--where was I going? Where was I going?" He paused and tried to organise his fleeting sense of purpose. Something had drawn him from the mansion, yet it was only now that he began to wonder what it was. He stared at the pavement, past the sleek curves of his rounded breasts secured in the tinselly tube-top. At last, he looked up, still unaware of much apart from his genuine attractiveness in the witch's body. "Looking decent, Prue," came a voice, seemingly out of nowhere. Perry whirled about, finding himself face to face with a tall and extremely handsome man. "Uh--aa--aa-- Who are you, then?" he shrugged. "Prue," admonished the gentleman, likewise shrugging and extending his arms as a suggestion that they were well acquainted. "You don't recognise your old pal? It's me--Dennis." Perry blinked and stared. There was no flicker of recognition from whatever parts of Prue Halliwell were left in her body. If anything, Perry felt a strange apprehension about this Dennis. "Dennis Amsterdam." The fellow continued to behave as though they knew each other very well indeed. He approached with a swagger. "Dennis A.--you know--I set up that financing deal for Piper--the club?--you know now?" "The club, yes," Perry grinned uncomfortably. "Oh yeah, that's right. You set up that financing deal. Sure." Dennis chuckled at Perry's innocent candour. "You Halliwell girls are too much sometimes," he snickered. "Probably two brains among the three of you, but I always took you for having a full head yourself." "Thank you," Perry smiled, as though the offhand insult was really a compliment. "No problem, Prue. Anyhow, you girls know if you have any troubles with that place, you can always come back and deal with Dennis Amsterdam. Your credit's always fine with me." Perry felt comfortable in the presence of this smooth-talking guy with the sculpted hair and tailored suit. He seemed to be trustworthy. "Listen, Prue--I still owe you at least a drink or something--I'm really certain of that. You are just lucky enough to have stopped right here outside my joint. Come on in--you'll like it." "Oh? Oh sure. The entrance is from the alley?" "Sure is, sweetheart." Dennis guided the black-haired girl down a set of steep steps and into a large, darkened room. He flicked a switch and the room glowed crimson. It was a capacious, literally underground, club. Black leather furniture and richly panelled walls suggested an upscale discotheque--completely out of synch with the century-old community outside. "What's your pleasure?" asked Dennis, subtly guiding Perry towards a long, padded bench, seating him, then gliding behind the bar in one continual motion. "I'm having a rum drink we devised here last year--care to try one?" "Sure," agreed the astonished Perry. He was feeling a little shy around this commanding personality. Dennis returned with a pair of goblets and offered one to the busty lady he'd ushered into his basement lair. They each drank, her pale grey eyes reflecting vermilion from the iridescent glow that filled the room. "This is good--sweet--kinda coconutty, I think." Perry smiled through Prue's plump lips. "What do you call it?" "Wicked Witch," he smiled. "Very wicked witch." "Who? Me?" "The drink baby, although, you--can--be--" Perry felt the intoxicant seize his emotions. He allowed Dennis to remove the two-thirds-empty goblet from his delicate hand and place it, with his own, upon a nearby table. He let the handsome gentleman lean over to place his lips on Prue's. Time sputtered into disconnected fragments, interspersed with pure sensation. "You are some kind of woman, Prue Halliwell." Perry at once felt exactly as Prue must feel when she is outrageously in love, or lust, or infatuation. Hands slipping all over her--the tube-top gone--helped onto her back on the bench--aimlessly sprawling her legs just after feeling her panties removed--the skirt gone--wrapping her boots tightly around Dennis' nakedness--that nakedness flashing red amid the club's lighting--gasping as the moment arrived when he would enter her and make her feel complete-- The girl gasped amid the intoxication caused both by the drink and the passion of sex. Sex. Sex. Perry felt his own senses return in an odd revelation. Unlike what he would have expected, Dennis Amsterdam had inserted his cock into Perry's new vagina and immediately began to fill her with cum. Dennis Amsterdam saw the sudden appearance of alarm cross the girl's face. He laughed. "Ha--you don't even recognise me--do you? Helpless, stupid witch--I'm Distomon Abraxones--an arch-daemon of the twenty-eighth order. And you got sucked in--baby." At once the arch-daemon transformed from its human form into a raging and terrible monster. Its cock continued to impale the helpless Perry, spurting seemingly endless torrents of seed into his pussy. "You will now become with daemon-child, O witch. Only your kind are able to carry my spawn." Its laughter raged endlessly. ------------------- "Omigod. Omigod." Phoebe lurched in sweat-soaked passion, riding atop Prue's cock in the back seat of the Mercedes. "This'll be the ninth time you got me off," gasped Prue. "You are one hot witch--er--bitch, Phoebs." Phoebe was still in the throes of her own orgasm as the premonition of the arch-daemon filled her mind. "God, Prue, forgive me, sis, I've gotta finish this last one," Phoebe rationalised silently. Prue's thick male hands grasped and squeezed her breasts, moving effortlessly up and down her naked sides before gripping her hips and ramming upwards into her. After coming to a pair of thundering orgasms, they collapsed together into a drenched embrace. "Listen, Perry, you're a sweetheart and everything, but I--uh--" "Had a premonition or something?" Prue smirked. "No--I mean--yes," replied Phoebe, trying to find her dark clothes--a near impossibility in the blackness of the rear seat of the sedan, amid the haze of a moonless, foggy San Francisco night. "I mean, whatever--um--I just have to go, that's all. Can you drive me somewhere?" "Oh, you bet," winked Prue. "I can drive you straight to heaven, girl." "No--come on!--I'm serious, Perry. Where's my top--and my skirt?" "I'll help you find them," replied Prue, softly tracing one finger along Phoebe's reddened cheek. "But just once more, OK?" "Oh--OK," smiled her na?ve sister. "But this is really, really, really the last time." Prue secretly sighed in relief, since she knew that the Mercedes she'd created had no engine in it. ------------------- Piper wrung her hands, now convinced that her sister's body was nowhere to be found in the big house. She had discovered the loosened bonds laying on the kitchen floor. Prue's body was gone, propelled by the mind of that hot man that had turned her on so easily on the pier. "And if she--he--whatever--isn't right here, then she's--um--he's out somewhere. And, if I'm not mistaken, she'd be dressed up like a slut and probably--possibly--in some kind of trouble." Piper was pleased with herself. She appeared to have solved a puzzle without Prue's assistance. That was a good sign in case she ever decided to run the club successfully. "Club. Decide. Puzzle." She ran over the seemingly disjointed words. Then she pouted. "OK. Randomly thinking up words is not going to find that Perry guy in Prue's body. I guess I'll just have to go out and search for her." The long-haired witch with the big eyes and full lips stomped out of the kitchen, swung open the front door, and headed outside towards the street. She passed a surly man whose face was covered from the scratches caused by being hurled into a rose bush. He was about to issue another catcall, but recognised her as one of the Halliwell sisters. "Are you Piper, by any chance?" "Ah-yes," she nodded, shaking her head emphatically and dropping her jaw in her typical manner. "I saw your sister head into a building over there with some strange-looking guy," he said. "Now, I helped you out, honey, so don't throw me into a damned rose bush, OK?" "Whatever," she nodded flippantly. She followed the thorn-scratched fellow's directions towards the lane down which Perry Throneberry had sashayed, hours earlier, in Prue's sexy form. "Ain't that just about it?" she fumed. "My chance to solve a situation--and I'm saved by this here guy with cuts all over him. Great." Before long, Piper found herself at the top of a steep staircase leading to a basement suite. Through the painted windows, she detected a burning red glow. "Red glow," she muttered. "Could be danger--or an arch-daemon. I know this. I better be prepared." She continued down the stairs and began to rap heavily on the door. "Go away!" came a gruff command from behind the door. As well, Piper listened closely to hear a subdued shrieking-- the unmistakable voice of Prue. "Omigod," she fretted, before heavily kicking the door open, nearly breaking her black high heel in the process. "Omigod," she squealed again. There, bound over a padded leather bench, was Prue's sweaty female body, being impaled in the anus by a towering arch-daemon. "Freeze!" she exclaimed. At once, Distomon Abraxones was frozen in time, his heavy penis rammed solidly up Prue's (or Perry's) asshole. "Aaa-aa-aah!" Perry continued to scream. "Bend your head backwards," urged Piper. "Cast your telekinesis and blow the arch-daemon off you--out of your ass." "Urgh-ghgh," gurgled Perry, struggling to crane his head far enough to stare straight at the frozen Distomon Abraxones. He squinted hard, concentrating on his full power. The arch-daemon was completely unaware of the blast that shot from the witch's body. It propelled him backward into a mystical portal, ripping his bony monster-cock out of Prue's behind. The portal sucked his essence out of the mortal world and returned him, shattered, to the sadistic pits of Hell. "Prue! Or Perry--are you all right?" cried Piper. "Well, er, my ass is really, really, really sore. And I've got about two gallons of arch-daemon sperm in my womb. But, I guess I'm all right." The door flung open behind them. Piper whirled about, relieved to see it was only Prue--in Perry's body--and a dishevelled and almost-naked Phoebe. "Piper!" exclaimed Phoebe. "I saw the arch-daemon anally raping Prue. Where is it now?" Piper grinned at her own cleverness under duress. "I defeated it. Sent it back to Hell." "You defeated it?" asked Perry. "Oh really, what am I? Chopped sardines?" As Phoebe stared in furtive confusion, Prue stepped a little closer to Perry and silently cast the spell to swap their bodies back to their original state, as before the episode had begun. Soon she believed she might regret that decision, as the incredible pain in her ass and her distended semen-filled pussy made movement of any kind uncomfortable. Perry, back in his male form, smiled at the salacious trio of witches, although his mind had been dulled during the swap. He wasn't entirely certain who the three were--one clothed, one naked and one in between. All he knew was that he certainly felt like having a nap. Prue awkwardly retrieved her scattered clothing. "Perry, you can use the Mercedes parked out front if you'd like to go home now," she grinned. "Oh--you two know each other?" gasped Phoebe. Piper and Prue looked at each other and beamed at their clairvoyant sister. "Better than you might think," they laughed in unison. Phoebe, eager to join the sisterly fun, held her tattered dress close to her body and laughed along with them. She turned only to observe Perry Throneberry's ass as he climbed the stairs to try to find the shell of a black Mercedes, attached to the hook of a tow truck. ------------------- The End [email protected]