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I push my power across the closet walls, searching for weaknesses. The magic securing this trap is similar to the enchantment that had protected Alienor’s home, except a dozen times more concentrated. My gaze darts to the slumbering figure.
“Clever, Alienor,” I mutter. “What will be your next move?”
When she doesn’t stir, I grind my teeth.
Of course, she wouldn’t. The sandman’s methods of putting people to sleep are all-powerful. Alienor won’t stir until sunrise. My gaze falls on the bait she placed in the trap: her soiled underwear.
I pick up a small scrap of lace that’s still wet with her moisture, and rich with her intoxicating scent.
“Were you thinking of me as you pleasured yourself?” I ask out loud.
Of course she was, otherwise she wouldn’t have set the trap.
Sensation trickles from the sigils adorning my skin and gathers in my cock, which aches and swells for relief. This is the part of my curse I hate the most—never being able to climax without the presence of Alienor.
“Just this once,” I tell myself. “In the morning, when she releases me from this trap, she will be dead. And then I will be free from suffering, free from her tyranny.”
The promise of satisfaction rumbles in my chest as I wrap my hand around my girth. She cursed me so that no other woman could look upon my manhood without horror. It’s bright red, as thick as my forearm, and ends with a row of four bulbous heads, each with slits capable of ejaculation.
My wicked wife fixed it so that I no longer spurt fluid when I climax. I only eject glittering salt. Perhaps she found the thought of it amusing.
“Laugh, Alienor,” I growl at her while she sleeps. “But I will tear out your blackened heart and break your curse.”
I bring the soiled underwear to my nose and inhale deeply. Arousal rushes south, leaving me lightheaded. Blood thrums beneath my skin as I stroke up and down my shaft. I imagine Alienor kneeling before me, with tears streaming down her liquid brown eyes as I fuck her throat.
“Take it, Wife,” I say through panting breaths. “Take it all.”
In my imaginings, she begs for more, unable to resist her husband and true master. She’s so aroused from sucking me that she reaches between her legs to fondle her wet cunt. When I order her to stop, she moans.
Pressure concentrates in my balls, the sensation bordering on pain. This is the working of the curse. Although it permits me to climax with her soiled underwear, the magic doesn’t make the process easy. These past three years, I’ve worked out that the curse won’t cause agony if I wrap her scent-infused fabric around my cock.
I hold the lace to my cock heads with one hand and pump the shaft with the other. My balls tighten, and a pulse of magic releases their contents in a powerful surge.
“Alienor!” My middle heads shoot into her underwear, staining it the shade of diluted blood. Then the ones at either end take their turns to spurt.
After the last head has spent, my arm falls like lead, and I drop the soiled garment to the floor.
There’s only one benefit to this curse. I can get hard immediately after orgasming, as long as I’m in her presence or have a proxy, such as this underwear. Unfortunately, when the scent fades, so does my ability to get pleasure. Alienor knows this, which is why she knew exactly how to bait the trap.
She shifts on the mattress, exposing more of that sweet, glistening cunt. I pleasure myself throughout the night, using the rest of her dirty laundry to fuel my ministrations.
Nothing escapes my attention, not her nightgown, not her brassiere, and not even her pantyhose. Alienor’s heart may belong to the deepest pits of hell but she has cursed me to believe her scent to be the highest realms of heaven.
I don’t stop masturbating until the first signs of sunlight peek through the curtains and illuminate her creamy skin. Creamy skin I want to slice open with my claws.
“Wake up, woman,” I growl.
She doesn’t even stir.
My fist slams on the invisible barrier.
Sunlight streams in through the window opposite my prison, illuminating her curves.
“Alienor,” I roar loud enough to awaken the dead.
Her eyelids flutter.
“Release me, you treacherous witch.” I slice uselessly at the invisible barrier.
