Witches Three
P8treon short story winner from a few months ago. Femdom, mind control, FFFM, lamia, dubcon. All characters over 18.
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Formin had known that getting involved with witches would be difficult. He hadn’t realized it would involve so much scrubbing as well.
The apprentice sorcerer sighed, setting the cauldron on its side to join over a dozen other pieces of crockery. Nearly piled to the curving ceiling, he was getting close to finishing the washing. He looked at it forlornly. When he was recruited by the local village coven, he’d anticipated more… well, magic and whatnot. Whatnot like dancing naked around the fires. Laying with demons. Cursing people you didn’t like. But it turned out that most sorcery involved dispensing medicines and herbs to local village women, occasional midwifery, and the odd afternoon in the forests resetting the wards.
But there were so many chores to be done.
To be fair, he understood. There were three witches in the house. And there was plenty of naked fun being had. But three young women of a sorcerous bend didn’t exactly lend themselves well to proper housekeeping. Formin half expected the reason the coven had taken him on was to get a servant. Gods knew he hadn’t learned much magic in his two-week apprenticeship, despite there being three witches to learn from.
“Mmmm… Formin?”
Formin stopped scrubbing a particularly stubborn pot and turned his head. Speak of the devil.
Lucrecia sagged against the doorframe to the kitchen, the witch impossibly buxom and ‘sky clad’ as she liked to term it. Only her long hair covered her, and it was woefully inadequate. Skin pale as cream, she could rival a holstaur in her bustiness, her breasts near as big as Formin’s head, her hips wide as a goblin brood maid’s. Her hair hung in long braids, woven with flowers, her face sleepy. Into the poppy juice, if Formin was to judge.
Formin swallowed hard. Despite his time here, he still wasn’t used to such shameless nakedness. “Y-yes, mistress?”
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