The Inventor’s Morning After

by JMD

“HEY!”

Hazel opened one eye, but with her face in the pillow, couldn’t see anything.  Slowly, she raised her head, instantly regretting it.  With a groan, she rolled over on the bed.

“HEY!  COME ON!”

“WHAT?” Hazel shouted back, wincing as her own voice brought on a new stab of pain.

“OH, THANK THE LORD!  I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

“WELL, I’M NOT!”  She sighed.  “That wouldn’t hurt so much,” she added to herself, rubbing her temples.  “And you don’t have to shout.  I can hear you just fine.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

“Now, shut up and let me sleep this off already.”  She rolled back over and reburied her face in her pillow.

“I would,” Victoria answered.  “Believe me.  I’ve got more than enough to sleep off here myself.  But…”

Hazel raised her head back up.  “But?”

 “I really REALLY need to pee!”

Hazel cocked an eyebrow at the open bedroom door.  “So, go to the bathroom already.”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” came the sarcastic reply.

“You’re asking me?”

“I am,” Victoria agreed, “since you’re the one that wrapped me up head to toe.”

“Wha…”  Hazel’s confused expression was replaced with a smile as she remembered how she had left her former panties the night before.  “Just go.  I hear spider silk is really absorbent.”

Victoria was quiet for a bit, before replying.  “Very funny.”

“Thank you,” Hazel congratulated herself.

“And your sister?  How absorbent is she?”

‘My sis…  What the hell does Rhea have to do with…”  Her eyes shot open as the rest of the previous evening came back to her.  “Oh.”  

“Exactly.” Victoria called back.  “I figure she’s mad enough that I’m wearing her.  If I…”

Hazel sighed.  “Fine, I’m…”  She made to sit up, but the room spun so much she was forced to lay back down.  “Whoa!  That’s…”  She waited for the room to stop before going on.  “How about I just turn you into a mannequin or something.”

The other woman took a second to answer.  “Are you really that stupid?”

“What’s the problem?  Mannequins never have to pee.”

“No,” Victoria agreed, “they don’t.  But here’s the thing.  If I’m a mannequin, what are you?”

Again, it took Hazel a bit to remember her current situation.  “Oh, right.”

“Yeah, right.  And since everyone else that knows about our little problem… and might actually do something about it… is currently being worn or waiting to be…  JUST GET IN HERE ALREADY!”

“Fine.  Fine.”  With considerable effort, she sat back up.  After another pause to allow the room to stop spinning, she stood, grabbing the side table for balance.  She glanced across the bed to where she kept her robe on her vanity chair, but quickly decided against taking the extra steps to retrieve it.  “Not going to be up that long anyway,” she muttered to herself.

Using the wall for support, she made her way up the hall to the living room.  She had to admit that the sight of Victoria, wrapped in spider webbing and squirming in the chair where she had left her the night before, was almost enough to make her forget her hangover.  Almost.

“Come on!” the trapped woman shouted.  “Hurry!  I can’t hold it much longer.”

Hazel waved a hand to calm her.  “Okay, okay.  Don’t get my sister in a knot.”  Taking a breath to steady herself, she starts to make the necessary hand gestures to work her witchcraft.

Victoria’s current panic gave way to a new one.  “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“You’d better hope so,” Hazel responded.  “Otherwise, there’s no telling what you and I could end up as.  Now, hush and let me concentrate.”

The trapped girl still looked doubtful as the webbing began to glow and reshape around her.  But as soon as the light faded, revealing that she was back in her borrowed dress, she bolted up from the chair and rushed into the hallway, almost running into Hazel in the process.

After regaining her balance from the almost-collision, the redheaded witch shouted down the hall.  “You better not pee on my dress.”

“SCREW YOUR DRESS!” came up the hall before the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.

“Screw my dress?” Hazel repeated with a little giggle.  She started to head back to bed, but stopped as something occurred to her.  “You know…” she said, looking back over her shoulder.  Spotting the dress she’d worn to the club the night before lying on the couch where she’d dropped it, she turned back.  “You just might be on to something there, Vic.”

Moving over to the couch, she picked up the little black cocktail dress by its shoulder straps.  Holding it up, she admired her handiwork for a moment.  “I really do good work, don’t I?” she commented.  “Still, as much as I’d like to keep this little number, I think I’d rather have my husband more.  So…”

Sending her witchcraft into the dress, it was engulfed in the usual glow, quickly reforming into the familiar shape of her husband.  Before the glow had fully faded, she found herself pulled into an enthusiastic kiss.  After a moment’s surprise, she stopped resisting and found herself enjoying the embrace.  As it went on, she started to look forward to what it suggested was to come, especially with what she felt pressing into her further down.

When the kiss finally ended, she smiled up at him.  “Well…” she started.  She took a moment to run her tongue around her lips to moisten them.  “That seemed promising.  I take it you enjoyed your night?”

“Enjoyed it?” he repeated excitedly.  “It was mind-blowing!  I could…”  He stopped as she placed her hand over his mouth.  

“Listen, sweetie,” she explained.  “As much as I’d like to hear about your experiences as my dress, there are other things that need attending to first.”  She used her free hand to illustrate her point.  “Starting with this morning wood you’ve got going on.”  

He groaned at the way she was illustrating her point.  He had to admit it was a really convincing argument.  But before he could say anything, a voice from the hallway cut him off.

“You want wood?!  Allow me!”  Together, they turned to see Rhiannon come storming into the room.  Behind her, Victoria followed, carrying the Linge-Ray.  The younger witch quickly made a gesture at her sister.

“Rhian…” Hazel started, but before she could get the name out, she was engulfed in the glow of her sister’s spell.  Unlike the effects Doug was used to seeing, this glow didn’t reform into another shape.  Instead, after a few seconds, it faded to reveal the wooden statue that his wife had become.  

Turning to his sister-in-law, he started to protest.  But one look at her was enough to keep him quiet.  He even found himself stepping back as Rhiannon walked up to stare her wooden sister in the face.  

“If you ever manage to break this spell… and good luck with that… don’t bother to come to me for help with your other little problem.”  She turned to her brother-in-law.  “Douglas.”  With that, she turned and vanished through the living room wall.

“Whoa!”  Doug turned to see his wife’s humanized panties moving further into the room.  “That was intense,” she continued.  “I didn’t expect that.”

Moving quickly, he went over and took the Linge-Ray from her.  “Really?” he questioned.  “You didn’t expect Rhea to do something to Hazel for turning her into underwear?”

She shook her head.  “Oh, no.  I fully expected that.”  She nodded at the Linge-Ray.  “I just expected her to use that on her.”

Doug huffed.  “You don’t have much experience with witches, do you?”

“Don’t have much experience with anything.”

He considered that.  “Fair,” he had to admit.  Going back over to the wooden sculpture, he explained.  “Well, witches don’t generally rely on science to make their point.  They don’t need to.”

“Apparently not,” the woman accepted, coming over to stand next to him.  For a moment, they silently looked at the wooden Hazel.  The woman’s mouth was frozen open with her sister’s name on her lips.  “So, can she?”

“Can she what?”

“Break this spell.”

Doug cut his eyes to her.  “Worried about what she’ll do to you if she does?”

“Maybe,” she admitted.  After a bit, she added, “Though, how bad can it be if it’ll also happen to her?”

He just smiled.  “Trust me on this…”  He paused, waiting on her.

“We seem to have settled on Victoria,” she told him.

“Okay.  Trust me on this, Victoria.  You don’t want to get on her bad side.  She can be very… creative.”

She swallowed.  “Noted.”

Satisfied, he turned back to his wife.  “To answer your question, I don’t know if she’ll be able to break this spell or not.  Rhea made it seem unlikely.”  He gave it some thought.  “Hazel says that all things return to their natural state eventually.”

“Yeah.  She told me that, too.  She wasn’t as clear on how long it takes, however.”

He sighed.  “I know.”  

“So…”

“Let me think.”  

“Okay.”  After several minutes, she grew impatient.  “Anything?”

In answer, he started tapping a fingernail on his wife’s naked wooden breast, producing a solid clicking sound.  “You don’t know what she did with my sister, do you?”

“That would have been her bra, right?”

“Yes.”

She pointed over the back of the couch.  “I think she threw it over that way.”

He looked in the direction she had indicated.  It only took him a second to spot the black garment half submerged in his aquarium, the fish nibbling at the cups.  He sighed heavily, going over and lifting it up to let the excess water run off.  It stopped dripping fairly quickly, but it was pretty obvious that the material was still soaked through.  Unsure of what to do about it, Doug let out another heavy sigh.

“Hand her here.”

He turned to see that Victoria was standing slightly behind him holding out her hand.  He hesitated for a second, before handing over the bra.  With a nudge to move him out of the way, she lifted the bra back over the aquarium, folding the cups together before twisting it tightly.  Watching, Doug winched.

Victoria noticed.  “What?” she asked.  “She can’t feel it, right?”

“I guess,” he admitted.  “It’s just…”

She finished and shook it back out.  “Well,” she stated, rubbing the material between her fingers, “that’s about the best I can do.”  She cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Unless you’re willing to pop her into the dryer for ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Uh…”  He swallowed.  “I don’t think so.”

She handed the bra back to him with a shrug.  “Your call.”

Not having a reply, he moved off the living room carpet and set the bra down on the tiled dining room floor.  Stepping back, he made the necessary adjustments to the Linge-Ray.  Taking a breath, he pointed it downward.  “Here we go,” he said and pressed the button.

A couple of seconds later, his older… and very wet… sister stood before him.  “What the…?” she started, staring down at her soaked condition.  Her face shot back up to lock eyes with him.  “Dammit!” she shouted.  “She tossed me into that damned fish pond again, didn’t she?”

“Of course not!” Doug automatically defended his wife.

“Then, what…?”  She held out her hands to show off her soaking wet body.

“Aquarium.”  As one, they turned in the direction of the comment.  Victoria stood with a hand on the fish tank.  “If it helps, I think it wasn’t intentional.  More of a lucky shot.”

Marie turned her anger back to her brother, but before she said something she’d regret, she took a deep breath.  “You know what?  Forget it.  I’m just going to go home and take a shower.”  Turning toward the door, she added,  “Tell your wife that the next time she needs someone to hold up her tits, she can use you?”

“I…”  He stopped as he realized what she’d said.  “Wait.  You knew you were a bra?”

She stopped and looked back.  “Lucky guess.  She’d already made her sister into panties, so…”  At his nod, she turned back to the door.  “Later.”

“WAIT!”  He shouted.  As she turned again, he quickly told her, “I need your help.”

“With what?”  In answer, he just pointed behind him.  Looking, she saw the wooden sculpture there.  Her questioning look to her brother was met with a shrug, so she went over for a closer look.  When she realized who it was, she couldn’t hold in the laugh.  “How?”

“Her sister wasn’t happy about spending the night as my underwear,” Victoria offered.

Marie laughed harder.  "Okay, I take back what I’ve said about witches. When they focus on each other, they're not so bad."  She turned again for the door.  “Well, good luck finding a cigar store needing an Indian.  I’m out of here.”

“Marie…”

She turned on her brother.  “No, Doug.  No.”  He started to say something, but she cut him off.  “Forget it.  Why would I help you bring her back?  Why?”

“Um…” was all he could come up with.

“Exactly.  Even if I wasn’t mad about her screwing up my weekend plans, I wouldn’t help get her out of that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s going to be mad as a hornet when she does.  And her sister’s gone.  So, tell me.  Who will she aim that anger at?”  She nodded at Victoria.  “Her?  No.  Can’t do that.  It would backfire on her.”  She pointed at him.  “You?  No way.  She never blames you.”  She looked around.  “So, who does that leave?  Oh, right.  Me!”

“But…”

“But what?” she countered.  “Come on.  Let’s hear it.  Why should I risk getting turned into who knows what to help your wife get back to what passes for normal around here?”

He swallowed before answering.  “I think she’s still wearing Michael.”

That stopped her.  “Michael?”

“I think so.”  He turned to Victoria for confirmation.

“She was wearing hose when she set me free this morning,” the woman told them.  “I don’t see why she would have changed them before passing out last night.”

“Hose?” Marie questioned.  At the other woman’s nod, she sighed.  “Of course.”  She went back over for a closer look at the statue.  Focusing on the legs, she thought she could make out a fishnet pattern in the wood grain. “Well, crap.”