The Witches of Eastcombe

Synopsis: The three sisters had revelled in sex since their teens. The problem was their men had gone, and all the decent unattached blokes looked at younger women. It seemed to be Rupert's lucky day when a Cher lookalike invited him to a remake of a classic video. Except sometimes things don't work out exactly as everyone expects.

The Witches of Eastcombe
by Charlotte Dickles

"Do you remember that orgy we had at Peter Berry's," Emma conversationally said over lunch to her two sisters, Sally and Jill.

Sally grinned. "I seem to recall it was only intended to be a party. It was you accepting that bet to strip naked and have sex with Peter on the dining table that made it interesting. Dirty little slut."

"Yes, but Sally," Jill joined in with her characteristic smirk. "It was you who said you could make a sandwich between those two guys from Chelsea. I thought that was dirty."

"There's a pot calling the kettle black," Sally told Emma, her grin getting even wider. "Jill not only had her sandwich, she also had guys squirting mayonnaise into every orifice she had. It must have really cleaned the wax out of her ears."

"The ears weren't the problem," Jill admitted. "But Peter didn't have a shower in his flat and it was all so sticky it took ages to wash it out of my hair. I think there must have been ten different flavours in there."

They mutually smirked at each other over a shared reminiscence.

"It would be good to do it again," Emma said.

"Grow up," Jill said. "We were in our teens, then."

"Growing up and getting older doesn't stop you enjoying sex," Sally said.

"How would you know?" Jill said. "It's been far too long since we all lost our blokes." She and Sally were widows ("Shagged to death," the village said) and Emma's husband had left her to join a life of celibacy at a monastery.

"There's still the cucumber," Emma said with another smirk.

For some reason, Jill stopped eating the sandwich Emma had prepared for them - tuna and cucumber.

"Emma," she said. "You wouldn't... would you?"

Emma's smirk grew wider. "Re-use and recycle. It's all the rage now."

"Oh that's disgusting," Jill said, putting down her sandwich.

"At least I skinned it before I put it in the sandwich," Emma said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yuk!" Jill said. She became aware that Sally was continuing to eat. "Didn't you hear what she's just said, Sally? The cucumber has been up her pussy."

"I think Emma's right," Sally said. "Re-use and recycle, and it's far better to re-use a thing twice rather than once. You should remember, it's always me that gets in the shopping every week."

Jill's mouth dropped open. "You mean it's been up your pussy too! That is gross."

"It doesn't feel gross to us, does it Emma?" Sally said with a smirk. "We think it's rather divine."

"Yuk!" from Jill.

"Sally," Emma said. "When you said you got in the shopping every week, you didn't mean that... well, you and the cucumber? Every week?"

"Regular as clockwork," Sally said.

"But," Emma said, "it's only this week that I used it and then skinned it before I put it in the sandwich."

"That's OK," Sally said. "I always rinse it under the tap."

"Ugh! Puke!"

"Excuse me while I throw up," Jill said.

"Still, as I said," Emma said, "it would be nice if we didn't have to rely solely on the cucumbers. I really feel like a good fucking."

"Don't we all," Jill said. "But you know what the man position in Eastcombe is like. This is too small a village for cosmopolitan women like us. All the nice guys are in stable relationships, and we've always made it a rule not to break up a relationship."

"There are those randy young students in Mrs Cox's bedsits."

"They're all on vacation now," Sally said. "In any case, young guys don't even look at us anymore. If we actually got to the state of being naked in front of them, they'd run away. It's the sagging tits that really put them off."

"I thought it was your walnut-like skin," Jill said.

"Bitch," Sally said, without rancour.

"I had an idea," Emma said.

Jill and Sally turned to stare at her. "We're listening," Sally said.

"You're right that young men wouldn't look at us as we are now," Emma said, "but just suppose we could turn into drop-dead gorgeous, sexy bombshells?"

They both groaned.

"Yeah. Right," from Sally.

"I've just seen a flying pig," from Jill.

"No really," Emma said. "Hear me out. Do you remember when the twins were here last week and I took them on the train into Seacombe and got those head and shoulder busts made? They were really pleased with them."

"Is there a point to this?" Sally asked.

"The point is," Emma continued, "I saw Sue - 'Dolly Parton' - Brooks on the train, and she got off ahead of us. We'd been in the bust shop for about fifteen minutes - it takes ages to get the 3D images made - and then Dolly appeared from a back room. I'll swear her tits had grown even bigger."

"You're right," Jill said. "Her tits have grown larger recently. I wonder what she's on."

"The question you should be asking," Emma said, "is what's on her? Those tits are completely false."

"Well of course she's had the surgery," Sally said, "but that doesn't..."

"She hasn't had surgery," Emma interrupted. "I didn't think anything of it at the time, but afterwards I realised it was too much of a coincidence that the bust shop is called Big Busts, and Dolly came out sprouting an even larger pair of tits than ever. I went back there today and asked them what they could do about my bust. The answer was staggering."

"Go on," Jill said.

"They showed me this thing called a Bustlet. It's like a skin coloured vest, complete with lovely firm tits built into it. You can choose whatever size you want - they even have a model you can inflate with water, and adjust the size up and down depending upon how big you want to be."

The other two looked sceptical. "You're telling us," Sally said, "that Dolly Brooks is wearing one of these Bustlets, and that's why she has such perfect tits?"


Jill shook her head. "No way. Remember I saw her at the garden fete when she bent over to pick up the hoopla, and her left tit fell out. There's no way that was false. At least five blokes jerked off on the spot, so obviously they didn't think so."

"False," Emma said.

"Even if that were true," Sally said, "I'm not certain it would help us pull any blokes. You've already remarked that it's our wrinkled skin that's the real problem. You don't get to look like a twenty-two-year-old virgin again simply by having a breast job. We'd need new faces, and every other bit of body."

"They make all over body suits," Emma said. "They use the same technology they use in the head and shoulder bust to ensure the face mask fits perfectly, with just a little padding in the right places so you look completely different. Depending upon the basic shape of your face, they can even make you look like a famous film star or model."

"This sounds like total rubbish," Jill said.

"They can even give you a tight cunt," Emma continued.

"Now I know you're talking rubbish," Sally said.

"I've seen the suits for myself," Emma said. "They work. They're not cheap, but I reckon they're a snip compared to the amount Michael Jackson spent on plastic surgery. And nothing can go wrong. They guarantee the result."

"It sounds too good to be true," Sally said. "Could they really make me look as good as I used to?"

"Far better," Emma said. "We'll have to go in there and have some 3D holographic photos taken, and they will then design the suit. As I say, it's not cheap." She named the price which made them all gasp slightly.

"But if it really worked..." Jill said, "I'd pay ten times that price."

"A hundred times," Sally said.

"Shall we give it a go?" Jill said.

"Let's," Sally said.

"It would be helpful when we went in if we had some idea of whom we wanted to look like," Emma said. "Victoria Beckham, Jordan - even someone like Marilyn Monroe. Anything is possible, depending upon the basic shape of our faces."

"There is another question we haven't answered," Jill said. "Which bloke are we going to try these on? There's hardly a surfeit of blokes in the village at the moment."

Sally said: "You know Rupert who works at Mr Patel's minimarket and lives with his mother near the church hall?"

"Rupert!" both Emma and Jill repeated in unison.

"I met him in the video shop last Wednesday."


"Hello, Rupert."

Rupert had left his mother at home watching Coronation Street, knowing that nothing would shift her from her TV seat for the next thirty minutes. The same went for every one of his mother's friends - in fact, anyone who might report back to his mother that he'd been hiring porn movies from the video shop. OK, so he was twenty-nine years old, but he still got incredibly embarrassed at the very thought of his mother finding out.

But it appeared his entire strategy had failed. From the voice, he couldn't quite place exactly which of his mother's friends she was, but he knew he was doomed. In the vain hope of concealing the porn, he pulled a video at random from the shelf and put it on top of the three others in his hand, as he turned to face the voice.

"Hello." His voice lifted slightly as he recognised her. "Mrs White," he added. Phew, he might get away with this. His mother hated her, and called her and her sisters the Witches of Eastcombe.

"I've told you before," she said. "Call me Sally."

She had a way of looking directly into his face that, had she been a younger woman, he'd have found highly erotic - almost a sexual challenge. As it was, he could never work out exactly how old Sally and her sisters were. His senses indicated they must be even older than his mother, although it was difficult to tell with her well-fitting clothes and expertly applied make-up. But the way she spoke to him, it was as though she was his own age - almost flirting with him.

"I was just picking up some videos for mother," Rupert said, self consciously holding up his bundle of videos, noting with absolute surprise the sheer coincidence that the video he'd randomly picked and put on top of his pile was The Witches of Eastwick.

"Gosh," Sally said. "I'm surprised at your mother's taste in videos."

She nodded downwards, and he could see a picture of a naked woman on the spine of one of the others. He could feel himself starting to blush.

"That rather looks like Jill on that spine," Sally said. "Do you mind?"

Without waiting for an answer, she reached forward and plucked the four videos from his hand and leafed through them, immediately discarding the Witches of Eastwick.

"It is, as well," Sally said, delight in her voice. "Look, there are the three of us."

She held up the front cover of the video for his inspection and he stared at the three beautiful, young, naked women giving him a cheerful wave. They looked vaguely familiar, and as her words sank in, he stared first at her face, then back at the girl on the left of the video cover, then back at Sally again.

"It's... It's you," he gasped.

"Too right," Sally said, "but that video was made a few years ago." She was already regretting her actions - indeed she'd only done it to overcome Rupert's embarrassment and the blush she could see commencing around his neck. But now he only had to look at the copyright date to work out how old they really were. Still, she couldn't undo her actions, so she might as well go through with it.

"We're in this one as well," she brightly said, showing him three girls hidden by black leather masks and bondage gear, causing Rupert's mouth to sag even lower.

"I'm glad your mother likes these," she added. "I thought she might be a bit of a prude. Still I'll ask her how she enjoyed them the next time I see her."

"No!" Rupert was quite clear about that. It was time to come clean. "Actually, these videos are for me."

"Right," Sally said. "I'm glad you have healthy thoughts."

She had thumbed through to the Witches of Eastwick again. "I bet this is for your mother," she said. "She always calls us the Witches of Eastcombe, you know." She gave him another of those frank stares, and once again he started to blush at her accurate knowledge. "It's alright, I'll keep quiet about the others, but just wait until I ask her if she enjoyed this film."

"No!" he blurted out. His mother didn't even know he was in the video shop. "That's for me as well. I really love the Witches of Eastwick."

"Oh right," Sally said, wondering whether she might look just a little like Cher, and then dismissing the idea.


"So Rupert not only has red blood running through his veins," Jill said, "he also fancies the Witches of Eastwick."

"I'd always imagined he must be gay," Emma said. "I mean, I've never seen him with a girl, and only occasionally with a bloke - and they were always his old school friends."

"I think he just doesn't socialise very well," Sally said. "As such, he is ripe for plucking."

"But only by three beautiful woman who look just like the Witches of Eastwick," Emma said.


"Oh Rupert, I'm glad I bumped into you," Sally said. (In fact, she had been into the minimarket twice already that day, hoping to "accidentally" bump into him.)

"Oh, er, hallo, er, Sally." After seeing her on the video he could hardly look her in the face - but then looking anywhere else on her body was just as bad, as he could immediately visualise the incredible uses to which she had put each and every part of it. When he looked at her face, he could remember that huge cock sliding in and out of her mouth. It was a wonder she could open her mouth that wide, and how she managed to take so much in was...

"I was hoping you could help me, Rupert."

"Help?" His voice rose almost to a shriek, and his simple response sounded as though he was calling out for help.

"It was one of those coincidences," Sally was saying. "On Wednesday, I met you borrowing that Witches of Eastwick video, and then yesterday one of our friends rang up who's doing a remake of the Witches' video, and she wanted to come over and get some help from us. I immediately thought of you, because you said how much you enjoyed it."

"Well, I'm not really an expert on it," he said. Hell, he thought, I haven't even watched the bloody video yet.

"No but I'm sure you know far more than any of us about it. I presume Saturday afternoon will be alright with you, since you get the weekend off from here, and your mother will be at the WI fete, won't she?"

"Er, yes." How did Sally know all that?

"That's great then. I'll pick you up about two?"

"What? When I said yes, I meant..."

"I can pick you up either from your home, but if you're helping your mother at the fete, I could come across to the church hall, if that's more convenient? It will be good to have a nice chat with her."


"Well don't worry," Sally said. "I'll come and find you wherever you are. See you at two o'clock on Saturday. Bye."

And she had gone.


"Hello. You must be Rupert?"

He had realised that running away had not been an option, since if he wasn't at home, then Sally would go around to the church hall and talk to his mother. Who knows what she might reveal. It was now just before two pm on Saturday and he had promised his mother (with his fingers crossed) that he would be down to help her at her WI stall later on. When the doorbell had rung, the fluttering butterflies in his stomach did somersaults; he wasn't certain whether it was because he was pleased or not. Certainly he was terrified.

But it wasn't Sally standing on his doorstep, but Cher, wearing a sexy, silk dress that was so thin, he could see the outline of her nipples pushing out the material!

"Cher?" he queried with a gasp.

Cher gave him a wonderful smile, and said in a Birmingham accent, "Well I'm not really Cher but they got me in as a Cher lookalike for the video. You certainly do wonders for my self-confidence. Do you think I pass?" Even to her, the Birmingham accent sounded overdone, but it appeared to fool Rupert.

"Oh yes," he said. "You look so similar to her."

"Great," she smiled at him, and started walking away from the house and towards a car by the gate. She gesticulated with her head for him to follow.

He hurriedly slammed the front door and did so. As he got inside the car, he added, "Your voice is a bit different though."

"That's no problem," Cher said, starting the engine and driving off. "They always dub in the sounds afterwards."

"I didn't realise that," Rupert said. "It must make it all quite difficult."

"Not really," Cher said. "There usually aren't too many spoken words, just kind of grunts and gasps - you know the kind of thing."

"Oh," Rupert said, suddenly gaining an idea of the type of video that the remake of the Witches of Eastwick was going to be.

"Incidentally, you'd better call me Alex," Cher said.


"Alex. That was Cher's character in the film. Obviously, if they're going to dub in the speech later, your mouth needs to be saying Alex - not Cher."

"You mean they're filming today?" He hesitated a second, as the full implications sank in. "And I'm going to be in the film?"

It had been only a couple of minutes drive, and already the car was stopping in the driveway of the three witches' house.

"Just rehearsals today," Cher said as she switched off the engine. Then she abruptly put her hand across and pulled his head towards her, and leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips. Her other hand dropped to his inner thigh, and then traced a path up to his suddenly rock-hard cock.

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

He was unable to speak. He simply shook his head.

"That's fine then," Cher said. "Let's go round and get on with the rehearsal."


Emma, Jill and Sally had been absolutely delighted with their bodysuits. They'd had to go to Big Busts and spend hours getting the 3D photos taken, followed by a long discussion about how their particular body and facial shapes could be modified to most closely replicate the three witches of Eastwick. When they had gone back a few days later for their fitting, they had all been deliberately keeping their expectations low.

The suits were in two parts: a pair of leggings complete with feet and toes - even toenails - and a leotard top, with built in face mask and wig, arms, hands and fingernails. They had been given careful instructions about how to put them on, ensuring in particular that the eyes carefully matched up with the eyeholes in the suit. There was a gel they had to use to ensure they didn't sweat too much inside the suit, and there were two types - a green gel for everyday use when they were wearing the bodysuits for a few hours at a time; and a red gel for prolonged use of about two weeks.

So that first time, under the expert tutelage, they had got suited up and then looked in the mirror - and gasped with amazement.

In fact, Sally had come out perfectly as Cher, whilst Emma and Jill as Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfeiffer were not such perfect matches, but who cared? They all looked pretty drop-dead gorgeous, and there couldn't be any red-bloodied male who would refuse a piece of action with those beauties - especially all three at once!

Rupert certainly did not. Under their expert guidance, he performed superbly - at least for his first three orgasms. After that, he had a slight problem in getting his erection to return, but Big Busts had thoughtfully provided a lifelike penis and balls into which his tackle fitted, and after that he had no problem at all in giving the girls what they wanted, which he continued to do for many happy hours for all concerned.


It was about two pm on Sunday afternoon when their doorbell rang. Susan Sarandon went to answer it, slipping on her little silk dress before she did so, which had the effect of making her look even sexier than when she was naked.

"Good afternoon, madam..." The police constable stood there transfixed by the sight which met his eyes of a very beautiful woman, clearly wearing absolutely nothing beneath the thin dress.

"Good afternoon officer. And a very nice afternoon it is for it, too."

Gulp. "Yes madam." Another gulp before he got himself under control. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we've had a report of a missing person - a Mr Rupert Gilbert. Someone said they had seen him getting into a car belonging to one of the ladies who lives here."

"That's right, officer. Rupert is here but he's a bit tied up at the moment. Do you want to come in and speak to him?"

He smiled. Well, he couldn't help smiling actually. This woman looked a lot like that actress who was in that Desperately Seeking Susan film. "If that's convenient. My name's PC Richard Bull."

Her eyes flicked briefly downwards before she grinned and said, "I thought it would be something like that. Come on in."

He thought he might be in with a chance with this Susan Sarandon lookalike, but he was totally unprepared to find Cher kneeling naked on the dining table, clearly in the throes of an orgasm. There was another naked woman who looked a bit like Michelle Pfeifer who was also writhing on top of... There was a bloke underneath, his hands and feet tied so he was spread-eagled on top of the dining table. Lucky guy!

"Rupert," Susan Sarandon said, "this police officer wants to talk to you."

Michelle looked a bit grumpy, and moved herself off the man's head so he could look at the police officer.

PC Bull noisily cleared his throat. "Sorry to disturb you sir. Are you Rupert Gilbert?"

"That's right, officer. Is there a problem?"

"Your mother reported you missing sir."

"Tell her to go and get fucked," Rupert said. "That's what I did, and it's wonderful."

"I'll let her know you're safe and well," PC Bull said.

"I'll show you out," Susan said, and then added, as she led the way to the door, "What time do you get off duty?"

"Eight pm," he said.

"Then why don't you come back then to check that Mr Gilbert is still alright?" Her wink was barely perceptible, but then, it didn't have to be.

"Right," he said. "I'll do that. In the meantime, I had better report him safe; otherwise his mother will call out the Armed Response Unit."


As Susan, aka Emma, returned to the lounge, the three others were just in the throes of a tremendous climax, and she patiently waited until they all came down from the ceiling.

"I don't know about you three," she said, "but I am well and truly fucked. I could do with a bit of rest and relaxation now. Anyone for a tuna and cucumber sandwich?"

By mutual consent, they all agreed on a halt, although only Rupert wanted a sandwich, which he hungrily ate.

"Is there any chance of me taking a shower?" he asked afterwards.

"Of course," Cher replied, and gave him directions to the bathroom.

When he had gone, Susan filled in the other two on PC Bull's intended return. "It's Bull by name and absolutely massive bull by nature," she said with a grin. "I have never seen such a magnificent bulge hanging down a trouser leg."

"Yum-yum," Michelle said, "I'm really looking forward to a night with his cock inside me."

"Me to," Cher said.

"Don't forget, I'm first," Susan said, then she looked up and said, "Hello Rupert. Could you not find the bathroom?"

The other two turned to smile at Rupert, who stood in the doorway.

"I was looking for a clean towel," he said.

"No problem," Susan said. "I'll come and find you one."

After Susan had gone upstairs with Rupert, Cher asked Michelle, "How are you getting on with the bodysuit?"

"It's fantastic, isn't it," Michelle replied. "I can't believe I look a completely new woman."

"It's certainly that," Cher agreed, "but I'm finding it a bit uncomfortable. I've taken it off a couple of times over the last twenty-four hours, and replaced the green gel stuff, but that only seems to provide a temporary relief before I'm wringing wet with sweat again."

"Perhaps you should try the red gel," Michelle said.

"But it means I'd be stuck in it for two weeks."

Michelle shrugged. "Is it a problem if you look like an incredibly beautiful young woman for two weeks?"

Cher smiled. "Put like that, I guess not. I'll give it a go."

Susan returned then and joined in the conversation.

"Poor Rupert, did you see his face when he caught us talking just now about PC Bull. I'm sure he thought we were talking about him."

"Well I think we've given him a very good grounding in his sexual education," Michelle said.

"But I do think he's had enough for the time being," Cher said. "We'd better run him home when he's finished his shower. Then I think I'll get some shut eye in preparation for this evening."

"Is PC Bull really as big as all that?" Michelle asked.

"I'll say," Susan said, and she went on to graphically describe PC Bull, much to the delight of the other two.

It was some fifteen minutes later that Cher said she was going up to take her shower.

"Don't forget the bolt isn't working properly on the bathroom door," Susan said, "so make certain you shout before going in. If Rupert is still in there, he'll think you've come to rape him again, and probably leap out of the window."

In fact, the bathroom was empty by the time Cher got up there - the wet towel on the floor being testament to a man having used the bathroom - why couldn't men ever be tidy?

She wedged the bathroom stool under the door handle before removing the bodysuit - she certainly didn't want Rupert coming back into the bathroom and finding the real Sally half in and half out of Cher.

It was such a relief to get it off, although staring at her real body in the mirror nauseated her. She'd only been wearing this thing for a day and already she had got thoroughly used to being a young, sexy woman again.

And it felt marvellous. Even if this red gel didn't do the trick, it would be worth suffering the sweat bath, just to keep that wonderful body. She ran the shower, and first thoroughly rinsed the inside of her bodysuit, before towelling it dry and then slipping it on a hangar and putting it into the airing cupboard to dry. Then she got into the shower and started to rinse off the sweat accumulated in the last twenty-four hours.


Susan and Michelle were still contentedly chatting in the kitchen when Cher returned.

"Oops," Susan said, "We've been idly talking here. You know what it's like when you're totally shagged out. I guess one of us ought to have taken Rupert back to his house. I think he must be in the lounge - he's too frightened to appear here."

Cher shrugged in exasperation, grabbed the car keys from the hook where they were kept and went through to the lounge. A minute later, the two women heard the car driving off.

"She seemed a bit annoyed that we're such lazy pigs," Michelle giggled.

"She's tired after being on the job all night," Susan said. "I guess we all are. Come on, why don't you have a shower next. Personally, I could do with some sleep before the bull fight this evening."


A torrent of emotions were running through Rupert's head. On the one hand, in just one day he'd gone from twenty-nine-year-old virgin into porn-film sex-stud. My God, what he'd been missing all his life. Even when he'd had trouble getting it up again, and the girls had given him that false prick, it hadn't dampened the pleasure. There's been some type of system built into it so he could still feel their pussies as he shafted them. Over and over again.

But the girls really were insatiable. Hell, sex was great; a lot of sex was fantastic; but he'd had so much sex he'd become totally overwhelmed by it.

Of course, he also felt very guilty about the message he'd given the policeman to give to his mother. Telling your mother to go and get fucked was really not right. Not that his mother would even know what being fucked would mean, of course; parents simply didn't understand these things. Hell, if she only knew what he'd been doing over the last twenty-four hours, she'd go out of her mind.

But the real problem was when he'd come back into the kitchen and they'd been discussing their evening session together. He'd kind of assumed they were finishing then, and the very idea of continuing overnight filled him with horror. He had to get some sleep, for God's sake.

He had only just finished towelling himself dry when he heard Cher calling at the bathroom door for him. Shit! Couldn't they leave him alone for just a few minutes? Thank heavens he'd bolted the bathroom...

Even as the words flashed through his mind, he saw the door handle turning and the ineffective bolt doing nothing to stop the door opening. Fortunately, he was standing behind the door, so he wasn't immediately obvious to Cher. In just one second, he had pulled open the door of the walk-in airing cupboard, stepped inside, and quietly pulled the door to after him.

Of course, he hadn't been able to shut it fully, as it would have made a noise and he'd have been discovered, so there was a slight crack through which he could see...

Hell! Cher was slipping off her dress!

Like the others, she'd had a button-through, silk dress which had quickly come off as soon as they had arrived at the house, but now and again, when she wanted to appear respectable or go to the toilet, she had slipped it on. (Which was more than he had done. God knew what had become of his clothes.)

But what was absolutely unbelievable was that he had seen Cher naked for hour-after-shagging-hour. She'd rubbed her tits against his face and every other part of his body. He'd seen every part of her body in minute detail, and been inside every orifice. And yet, she slipped off her dress now and he had his eye glued to the crack in the door to watch.

There was no doubt she had a perfect body. Why, even now, he could feel his prick stirring. Perhaps he might slip out and give her one straightaway.

But no, she was moving her hand down to her groin and the thought of watching her masturbate was highly arousing. His prick was instantly rock solid. He would wait until she was in the throes of orgasm before going out to give her one.

Something strange happened then. It was as though her pussy had come loose and was hanging in front of her. The same seemed to have happened at the rear, with a little tail hanging down from her bum. What the hell was it?

Cher grasped the tails at front and rear and pulled them both upwards. They moved, and with it the skin of her tummy and her bum, both lifted upwards as she pulled, as though she was pulling off her skin.

Up and up she pulled revealing more skin beneath - but crinkled, horrible skin. Then saggy breasts plopped from beneath the outer skin as it was pulled even further upwards. With a final heave, the whole lot was pulled off to reveal...

Shit! It was all he could do not to cry out. Sally stood there before him; and not the well-dressed, immaculately groomed Sally he had seen many times, but a naked Sally with sweaty, blotchy skin and sagging boobs, but still with a perfect lower half. Perfect, that was, until she bent over and started pulling her buttocks down in the same way she had pulled her torso up, and exposed a crinkled bottom and legs with varicose veins. Ugh! It was obscene, and he'd been...

It was unthinkable! He'd been shagging this old woman thinking she was young and beautiful. The other two women he'd thought so beautiful must be Jill and Emma, similarly attired.

He didn't know whether to cry out or to keep quiet, but his natural discretion chose the latter. After all, if she discovered him here, she might try to have sex with him again!

She washed out her outer skin in the shower, then towelled it dry, put it on a hangar and then stepped towards the airing cupboard. Hell! He was going to be discovered!

He shrank back to the rear of the airing cupboard, and fortunately Sally barely looked inside as she lifted the hangar up to a hanging rail near the ceiling, then returned to her shower.

It gave him chance to examine it more closely, and on inspection, it wasn't as scary as it had seemed as Sally had taken it off. A two-piece, skin-like suit with large, lifelike breasts built in. Rupert shook his head in amazement. Had he been taken for a sucker. What was important now was to get out of this place without being fucked any more by these old women.

Sally finished her shower and dried herself, then he heard her opening the bathroom door and leaving. A minute later, he heard a hair dryer being used in an adjacent room.

Rupert swiftly left the relative safety of the airing cupboard and, in the same way that Sally had done, used the stool to wedge under the door handle. The problem was what did he do then? He was naked. His clothes were thrown about downstairs somewhere; whilst the three witches of Eastcombe were preparing their next assault on him. He had to escape but...

It was seeing Sally's dress which gave him the idea. Not just about putting on the dress, but about putting on the skin suit, and leaving the bathroom disguised as Cher. He grabbed the suit from the airing cupboard and was about to slip it on when a plastic tub of something caught his eye. "Red anti-perspirant gel for use with Big Busts bodysuits," it said. He didn't bother to read the instructions, simply used the disposable plastic glove that Sally had brought in with the tub to slap the gel all over his body. Then he pulled on the leggings, and he had to gasp at the difference they made to his legs. Why, his legs had become sexy; his prick was getting hard again.

He was about to reach down and take matters in hand when he heard someone trying the bathroom door, but fortunately the wedged stool kept it securely shut. Damn! Never mind touching himself up, he had to put on the top half, get dressed and get out of there.

Three minutes later, he had the suit on, and had adjusted the eye holes so they lined up with his own eyes, and everything else seemed to fit into place. He pulled on Sally's dress and the sandals she'd worn, then pulled aside the stool and stepped out of the bathroom. Through the open bedroom door opposite, he could see a naked Sally lying in the bed - and a disgusting sight it was, too. As he watched, her mouth gaped open and a loud snore came out of it.


Two minutes later he was in the car and driving home. He couldn't believe he had so coolly stepped into the kitchen with the other two witches to recover the car keys he'd seen Cher hang up when they'd come in yesterday. They hadn't even really looked at him dressed as Cher.

But now, all he had to do was to get inside his own house and up to his bedroom without his mother seeing him, then quickly get this skin off and into some proper clothes. He'd have to apologise to his mother for being out all night, of course, and clearly he couldn't tell her he'd been shagging three old women - perhaps he'd just tell her he was round at a school friend's and she could believe him or not.

He cautiously let himself in through the front door - by far the safest option as his mother was nearly always seated in the kitchen. But as he crept upstairs, he could hear his mother crying her heart out in her bedroom. It really turned him over to realise how upset she was. He'd quickly get changed and immediately go in and comfort her.

The problem was, when he got into his bedroom, he couldn't unfasten the clip between his legs. He'd watched Sally do it without problem, and he'd fastened it himself after putting on the suit. It was quite a simple plastic clip, but no matter how hard he squeezed, the clip would not come disengaged. Perhaps that gel had got clagged into the fastening and was preventing it coming undone.

He spent ten fruitless minutes trying to undo it, and then came to the conclusion he was stuck. Meanwhile, his mother seemed to be getting worse, hopelessly crying out "Oh God! Oh God!"

There was nothing for it, he realised, but to go into his mother's bedroom, explain the situation and comfort her. Who knew, perhaps the unique nature of his problem might make her laugh herself out of her despair?

He quietly opened the door to her bedroom and stepped inside. She had the curtains closed, so it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light

His mother was lying on the bed, clasping something like a pale, white cushion to her tummy - presumably for comfort - but as he watched, he saw the cushion lift up, and beneath it was what appeared to be rolling pin. For a second, he thought she must be using the rolling pin to masturbate with - he'd seen plenty other implements used in the last twenty-four hours - but suddenly with a sickening realisation, he knew it was not a rolling pin he was looking at, but a huge penis - a penis that made his own look the size of his little finger.

It was an obscene monster, with purple veins standing proud from the shaft, and he could see the knob glistening as it was almost withdrawn from his mother's vagina. Then it was thrusting back inside her, and she was calling out, "Oh God!" and her fingernails were digging deep into PC Bull's arse and pulling him into her. Rupert turned and silently left the room.


Back at the house, the women had realised what had happened, and were shouting at each other, but mainly at Sally for being stupid enough to leave the suit lying around in the bathroom, even for just a few minutes. They had all now changed back into their old selves.

When Cher stepped back through the kitchen door, they all stopped arguing and stared in amazement at her.

"Rupert?" Emma said.

She nodded. "That's me. I can't get this suit off. Can you help me?"

"Rupert," Sally said, "I noticed you'd used the pot of red gel that was in the bathroom. Did you put it all over your body before putting on the bodysuit?"

"Yes. It said it was anti-perspirant. Was that right?"

"Not if you want to get out of that suit quickly," Sally said. "It bonds the suit to your body for the next two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Cher gasped. "But I can't stay in this for two weeks."

No one said a word.

"Did you hear me? I need to get this off now."

"We understand your need, Rupert," Emma said, "but it simply won't come off. It's stuck on you for two weeks. We're all terribly sorry. Do you want us to explain to your mother?"

"No!" Cher paused a little and then added, "My mother was doing something... obscene. I can't go back there."

The three looked at each other, and then Sally spoke, "It will help if you tell us what she was doing, Rupert. It's not good to bottle it up."

Cher looked at the three of them in turn, and they all looked so concerned for her that her entire feelings for them changed. OK, so they had tricked her into sex, but she could hardly complain that she hadn't enjoyed it.

"I went back and found my mother was in the bedroom having sex with someone."

"Look," Emma said, "I know that can be shocking, but there's nothing wrong in that. It's perfectly healthy for mature men and women to have sex."

"Do you think so? But it was my mother."

"We realise that," Sally said, but she couldn't help wondering, "Er, who was she having sex with?" After all, anyone who would have sex with Rupert's mother would certainly be up for having sex with the three of them.

"That policeman who was here earlier. He must have gone straight round to tell her I'd been found and then..."

"PC Bull?" It was Jill who said the words, but all three of them were looking shocked.

He nodded.

"That's obscene," Emma said. "A man in his position taking advantage of a poor, innocent woman who thought she'd lost her only child."

"And who's so much younger than her," Sally said. "It's absolutely disgraceful."

"But I thought you said it was natural," Cher said, very confused.

"Some things are natural and some things are not."

"Do you see his penis?" Jill asked.

Cher nodded. Suddenly, she realised she had all their attention.

"Was it... quite big?" Emma asked, as though the question wasn't important when clearly it was.

Cher was about to tell the truth when she suddenly realised she didn't have to. "Big? Not really. I mean, if you've enjoyed Rupert over the last day, then you wouldn't get much pleasure out of PC Bull."

"Really?" Sally sounded delighted for all of them. "We wondered whether he might be the kind of guy who stuffs handkerchiefs down his pants."

"That's probably it," Cher said as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"Right," Jill said. "We'll certainly tell him to get stuffed when he comes round here later."

"He's coming round here later?" Cher asked.

"We just thought he might come back," Sally said, "from the way he was ogling at us in our... er, other lives."

"But what am I going to do?"

"You'll have to stay here," Emma said. "I think that Big Busts, the shop which sold us the bodysuits, sell some pills to make a man's voice sound higher, just like a woman's. We'll get some tomorrow."

"But what about my job?"

"You'll have to ring up Mr Patel at the minimarket and explain you've been taken ill, but you have a cousin who could come round and take over your work," Jill suggested. "That would be alright, wouldn't it?"

Cher nodded. "I guess so. But what about me staying here with you? I mean, what happens to our relationship?" Cher didn't know whether she wanted to have sex with the three women or not, and how would she do it? Would she have to become a lesbian?"

"Oh that's no problem," Emma said. "I can ring up Big Busts tomorrow. I can get them to supply three male bodysuits for us. You can be the woman, and we'll be the men. We can make some nice Cher sandwiches. Is that alright?"

Of course he was going to refuse, but then he thought a bit more. After all, if he was stuck in this suit for two weeks it wouldn't do any harm to explore a little, would it? He wasn't certain whether he was up to making sandwiches for them, since those that Emma had made earlier had been delicious. Certainly, her cucumber had been incredibly tasty, just like the cucumber his mother occasionally put into her sandwiches.

"Why not?" he said.


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