Coworker s Curse
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Grand-mama's Curse free porn video
Grand-mama's curse
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A young lady is sent out on a mission to right a wrong.
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The young lady had been given a mission. Find the son of a bitch and
bring him back to grand-mama. Actually finding the man would be of
little problem; he was a very powerful and well-known figure. But
grand-mama was an aging Gypsy witch who had been wronged. This man had
done evil terrible things to her and her people, and had to be made to
pay.
The young lady would be armed with some powerful magic. She was not to
kill the man; oh no, the man would be made to suffer. She was to bring
the man back to grand-mama. Grand-mama had a way of dealing with people
who had crossed the Gypsy path. She would ensure the man would live to
suffer a very, very long time.
The first spell cast on the young lady was a morphing spell. It would
not only change her looks, but change how people perceived her. She
would become to them whatever was necessary to accomplish her task.
With this spell, she found it very easy to accomplish the first part of
what needed to be done: get close to him. She was young and attractive.
Those who would protect the man saw her as one of their own, and with
the power of grand-mama's first spell, she reached a level of trust that
afforded her the opportunity to get close to the man.
The young lady quickly found out that the second part of the plan would
prove to be much more difficult to achieve. The second spell grand-mama
cast on the young lady was a much more powerful morphing spell. It
would allow the young lady to change the man into something much more
manageable that could be brought back to grand-mama. But this spell
required contact; very intimate contact.
The man liked her and trusted her, but he did not have a penchant for
the fairer sex. No, this man had a preference for the male of the
species. This worked against her as you might imagine because when they
were together, it was always fully clothed. But it worked in her favor
as well. Homosexuality was frowned upon in their society, and the man
could not afford to allow the public to know about the men and boys that
pleasured him. Having a pretty young girl beside him publicly could be
as a shield, blocking the public from viewing his true nature.
Patience is a virtue. The young lady would bide her time. She would
become as much of a part of his life as she could, hoping to grow on
him; hoping he might begin to like her as more than his girl escort.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into
years.
When she first got close to him, he was very powerful and could have
what he wanted. She was for show only and at that time held little hope
for becoming anything more. But as time wore on, cracks began to show
in his organization. She made sure she was always there as the rock he
could lean on. And in the end his world began to collapse in upon
itself. His most trusted confidents had abandoned him, but she was
still there.
And finally, he asked her to marry him. He told her that only in the
end he saw the one person who had always been faithful to him; always
been there for him. It was a simple ceremony; very few would or could
attend. She knew her opportunity was at hand.
In his private quarters he had a simple but elegant meal prepared.
Together they would be going away, and he wanted to dine with his wife
before they went. This was it. It was the perfect time. She seduced
him, laying it on as thick as she could. She said she had always been
there for him, and that she had always done what was asked or required
of her. She said that for the first time she would like to ask
something of him. She wanted him to consummate the marriage. She said
she understood it may not be something he would take great pleasure in.
She asked if he would do it for her, as a reward if nothing else.
And he conceded.
She told him to just close his eyes and imagine she was actually a young
boy. She sat him on the couch and began loosening his buttons. She
lowered his trousers and undergarments enough to expose his penis.
"Close your eyes, and imagine I am a young boy" she reiterated. Holding
his member in her hand she could tell it was working; he was starting to
get an erection. She bent over and licked it, and he shuddered a bit,
but said nothing. She then softly blew on his hardening erection, and
he shuddered again. She then placed her lips upon the tip, and slowly
started lowering herself.
And the magic began to work. Her tongue began to tingle as if it was an
electrical conductor, and a million little bolts of electricity were
transferring from her body to his. If he felt it too, he said nothing.
She didn't need to bring him to orgasm. She only needed to stay
intertwined long enough for the magic to transfer from her being to his.
And in a short amount of time, the feeling was gone. She knew she had
accomplished her task. She sat up; no will or desire to complete the
copulation. He only stared at her, but could say nothing. The
transformation spell was starting to work. In a short amount of time he
would be transformed into a much more manageable object. His soul would
remain intact, only the vessel it was contained in would change.
She got up, straightened her dress and went over to the table. She
turned back to him and saw that his body was already looking less human.
She laughed and said that she just couldn't wait to give him to grand-
mama. She then sat down to enjoy her meal while he completed his
transformation.
The poison in the wine worked fast. She did not live long enough to see
his final shape.
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War is hell. That's what they say, and if anything it's an
understatement. Tom thankfully hadn't been a part of it for too long,
but had seen enough to cause him to wake up in a cold sweat on a regular
basis for the rest of his life. And he hadn't even seen the worst part
of the conflict. That had happened well before he showed up. By the
time he arrived the conflict had swung considerably to their favor, and
they were only wrapping things up.
Taking war trophies was legal. As long as you filled out the forms to
declare them, and nobody contested what you were taking, it was allowed.
You couldn't walk off with priceless pieces of art or national treasures
(at least weren't supposed to), but nobody cared if you took a gun off
of a dead soldier, or a bottle of wine from a bombed out building.
Tom had sent a few things home. Mostly things that would look good on a
shelf or in a display cabinet to prove to others and act as a reminder
to him that he had been part of the conflict.
And as it happened, during the closing days of the conflict he found
himself in a ransacked bomb shelter. They say that this is where the
conflict actually ended. Almost everything of significance or value had
already been confiscated, looted, or destroyed; ALMOST everything.
And then he found himself in a room. Actually, THE room. There were no
bodies here, but this is where it happened; this is where it ended. And
then he saw something that everyone else had overlooked. Lying on the
couch and partially obscured with debris. He picked the object up and
stared at it; instantly realizing its significance. He put it in his
pocket knowing he would value it for the rest of his life. He wasn't
even going to declare it or send it home. No, he was going to take it
home with him personally, and the crazy thing is, if anyone found him
with this object, they wouldn't even realize what it was.
And so it was that Tom and his fellow soldiers finally came home to
cheering crowds. He did his best to settle back down to normal life.
Yes he had the occasional nightmare, and he also set up a display in his
den where he could keep most of his mementos. But one special item he
kept put away, telling nobody about it for the remainder of his days.
--------------- ---------------
Thomas hated wearing ties, they made his neck itch. He wished he could
be wearing a pretty dress like the girls, instead of his stuffy old
suit. He then shook the thought out of his head. That would have to be
for another time. He was here to pay respect to his grandfather; a
great man who lived a very long and interesting life. A man he admired,
respected, and loved; and who he was named after.
They had just returned from his grandfather's funeral, burying him with
full military honors. Thomas was sitting at the desk in his
grandfather's study. It was a place he had spent a lot of time in,
listening to his grandfather tell heroic stories of his past. But it
was a place he had never been alone in either. He had never been in
this room before without his grandfather being with him. As a matter of
fact, as far as he knew, nobody had. It was an odd feeling being alone
in this room.
Looking up, he noticed on a shelf just above the desk he was sitting at
was a folded up American flag. He didn't really know why, but he picked
it up; probably more as a sense of feeling close to his grandfather. As
he turned it over in his hands, something heavy fell out of the folds of
the flag, and fell hard with a loud 'THUNK' on the hardwood floor.
Looking down on the floor, he saw an old key; kind of like a novelty
skeleton key more than anything else. He replaced the flag on the shelf
and then bent down to pick up the key. Turning it over and over in his
hand he wondered what was so special about this key that it had to be
hidden.
The grandfather clock in the corner of the office chimed that it was
four in the afternoon. The chimes broke the silence in such a way as to
startle Thomas. So much so that jumped a bit and almost dropped the
key. He turned to look at the clock, and watched it as it chimed. And
as he watched the face of the clock do nothing while it continued to
chime, he noticed at the lower right of the clock, just off the face
was a keyhole...
It looked just about the right size. He walked over to the clock, and
turned the little knob allowing him to open the glass covering the face
of the clock. He inserted the key and turned it. There was an audible
click, and then out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. A small
drawer popped open on the side of the clock.
Thomas looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody saw what he was
doing. He wondered what valuable item could his grandfather have hidden
in this drawer. He nervously reached into the drawer and only found
something made out of cloth. Curiously he pulled it out and found it
was a pair of cotton women's underwear.
Thomas had always enjoyed wearing women's clothes when he could,
especially their underwear. He was wondering if he shared more than a
name with his grandfather. Were these HIS special panties? Thomas
suddenly found he felt closer to his grandfather than he ever had
before. He put the panties in his pocket, put everything else back as
it had been when he came in, then turned off the lights and left the
office to rejoin everyone else.
The next morning Thomas stepped out of the shower and started to get
ready for school. He decided he was going to wear the panties today in
memory of his grandfather: Although Thomas was willing to find any
reason to wear a pair of panties school anyway.
Thomas's second class of the day was world history. They had spent the
last week and a half going over World War II, and today they were
finally wrapping things up. The teacher was telling the class that
Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun had recently been married before they
committed suicide in his bunker at the end of the war.
Thomas was starting to feel uncomfortable and his cotton panties were
starting to itch.
The teacher went on to say that it is commonly believed that their
bodies were burned, destroyed, and buried just outside the bunker, but
no definitive proof of Hitler's body was ever found.
Thomas reached down to scratch himself hoping nobody noticed. A thought
started creeping into his head. He didn't know where it came from, but
a nagging feeling was telling him that Adolf Hitler did not die in that
bunker...
He did not die at all.
**Author's note**
I was intentionally vague with this story wanting the reader to connect
the dots and figure things out for themselves. I hope people enjoy it,
and look forward to comments and whether I was too vague, or maybe not
vague enough. Or if this story even made sense at all.
Nanette
- 11.04.2021
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- 0
