#devinedeath

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

There's an unusual stillness in the air. 

The house breathes under her feet, as if alive. Lilia could sense it from a mile away, the space in which a witch lives integrated within their being. She places the key on the lock nonetheless, taking off her shoes before closing the door behind her. 

It’s not uncommon for the wooden floor and moss green walls to feel heavy, bubbling with magic underneath. The permanence of three powerful beings under the same roof making the place absorb their energies. It’s easy, then, for her to ignore the atypical tranquility. Her exhausted body welcoming the unfamiliar maternal warmth in the air. 

The afternoon had been long. Looking for a new address with the current amount of money she had saved served to be a challenge, the eviction notice haunting her thoughts every time she thought of going over her budget. The various places she had visited for the day were barely big enough for a bedroom, let alone sufficient to accommodate her shop - and only source of income. Without her readings, her reserved funds were burning faster than the material they were made of. 

Her budget was lowering as the weeks went by. 

“Agatha?” The divination witch calls out, voice reverberating on the dark empty hallways, unanswered.

The lack of response doesn’t bother her, shouting for the sake of announcing her presence was a habit she had long picked up when arriving home - a lesson learned after catching her housemates on compromising positions a few dozen times. 

Her magenta robe flourish over the floor as she walks. The lights are out, the moon casts uneven shadows over the kitchen, illuminating her path to the sink. The fortune teller moves with practice, reaching into cupboards and finding relaxing herbs in the house’s shared collection. With her mind elsewhere, it takes a moment for her to sense it. 

A divine smell evades her nostrils, her eyes rolling back as her toes curl underneath her. The unexpected scent takes her back to Sicily, centuries ago, a long forgotten memory of her mother putting her to bed, wrapping a thick blanket around her and muttering soft protection spells under her breath. 

The nostalgia raises goosebumps over her skin as she stands still in the dark room, water running from the faucet and into the teapot in her hand. 

The abrupt image makes the grey-haired woman take in the space around her. Magic wafts through the air, lulling her like a song and imperceptibly taking the weight of the day from her shoulders. The unusual stillness is acknowledged for the first time, and she turns around then, hearing the sound of boiling water from the stove. 

A small pot is halfway filled with milk. The scent is rich, sweet and inviting like nothing she’s ever smelled before. 

Contrary to popular belief, it is very uncommon for a witch to get poisoned, fooled by another’s magic or killed with any kind of ingestive spell. They know, they instinctively feel when something is wrong, alarm bells ringing in their head in the face of imminent danger. 

Lilia knows then, knows that - whatever this is - it would do her no harm. 

Albeit normally the divination witch would think twice before taking an unknown potion lying around - specially with her colorful housemates - it is as if hypnotized that she reaches for the mug by her side, dipping it into the shimmering white milk and filling it to the brim, drops cascading down the porcelain and wetting her fingers as she brings it up for a sip. 

A grunt tears itself from between her lips. 

The scalding drink goes down, not burning, but warming her up from the inside. The taste lingers on the tongue, saccharine and creamy, addictive. She downs it, doesn’t even care what it is, only focused on the sensation spreading over her body. 

It feels as if coming home to an embrace, the comfort of pillowing breasts under your head as you take an unworried sleep. The coziness of nurturing, the need to protect someone, to feed and watch as pleasure booms in their face from the milk in their lips. To observe as their eyes roll from the sweetness gracing their tongue, feeling as they suck and moan around your skin. 

The temperature around her increases, sweat gathers in her brows as she groans around her mouthful. Her chest grows hot, redness blooming across her skin as her nipples stiffen under the material of her dress. Heat spreads over her thigh, arousal washes over her in a strange encounter of lust and comfort. Her bra becomes unreasonably tight. 

“Lilia.” 

She doesn’t jump, isn’t frightened by the figure hovering in the shadows, but as if someone snapped fingers in front of her eyes, she blinks harshly, emerging from the trance she had been in. Her upper lip is wet and her breathing is irregular, there’s nothing much she can do besides drag her tongue over her skin, cleaning the white mustache her desperate drinking had caused. 

The pot is now empty, no more divine smell wafting from the stove. She feels full, as if a banquet had been served and eaten with gusto. It is clear that the milk is gone and, even if one of her housemates has just arrived, it is also painfully obvious that there is no one else to blame for its disappearance besides her. Even if she doesn’t remember taking more than one sip. Even if she’s never felt so out of her mind before. 

“Rio.” 

Death herself lurks in the darkness, watching Lilia with an unreadable expression, black predatory eyes inspecting her panting form. If she is mad, or concerned, because the divination witch drank the unknown potion, she doesn’t let it show. 

The grey-haired woman’s chest burns, she feels a blush rising all the way up to her cheeks, out of embarrassment or as a side effect of the magic, she couldn’t tell. 

She’d bet on both. 

“I wouldn’t worry.” The green witch reassures, jumping to sit on top of the kitchen counter. 

As non-elaborated as it is, the remark is enough to make the fortune teller let out a relieved sigh, still out of her wits and barely grasping the gravity of the situation. Even without effort, the couple she lived with still managed to drag Lilia into whatever trouble they were currently plotting. 

A million questions run through her mind, her thoughts are jumbled and her body is unknown, acting on its own accord. The divination witch narrows her eyes, but in her dazed state can’t do much more than ask. 

“Is it hot in here?” Reaching for her robe, she’s quick to get rid of the warming material, discarding it near the sink.  

“Are you hot?” Rio counters, eyeing her up and down with a smirk, amused by her condition. “Well-” She amends, cut off by the stare Lilia levels her with. 

The green witch’s cackle reverberates around the tense room, her feet banging against the bottom cabinet as her head falls back. 

“Goddess.” The fortune teller whispers, hands fanning herself as she looks upwards for any form of aid - and patience. 

Sparing a moment to breathe, the gray-haired woman presses the tip of her fingers against her temple, trying to massage away the upcoming headache. How stupid was she to drink an unknown potion lying around? It was as if she hadn’t had control over herself, a calling, a need to feel more of what the smell was already providing. 

The calm intake of air is enough to bring a portion of clarity. She couldn’t be losing control again. Not when her chest felt heavier than usual, her neck was sticky with sweat and her underwear was unreasonably wet. Not when closing her eyes made her picture the woman in front of her squeezing her breasts, lips closing around a bud of milk on her nipple. 

Her posture stiffens at the image, startled. Her mouth flies open to yell at the figure in front of her before she’s interrupted by footsteps. 

“Rio? I can’t smell it anymore. Have you drunk it already?” The owner of the house’s voice sounds from the stairs. “I thought we agreed to-” 

What had they agreed to do would continue a mystery to Lilia for when Agatha sets foot in the room she cuts herself off, matching satin purple shorts and a tank top covering her as she glares at the duo from the kitchen entrance. 

“Hi Lilia.” Unphased by the older woman's presence, the brunette moves to perch herself by Rio’s side, elbows resting on the wood. “What is going on?” 

The fortune teller doesn’t have time to form an answer. 

“Lilia drank the milk.” The black-haired woman replies simply, toothy grin mocking the divination witch’s predicament. 

“Oh, did she?” The one in purple snorts, lips spreading to a smirk of her own. “And how much did you drink?” She questions the grey-haired woman directly. 

Lilia eyes the empty pot on the stove, tongue wetting sugary lips before pressing them together. An irritated furrow grows on her brows as anger rises alongside her arousal. 

“All of it.” She grunts, watches as the couple's eyes tinkle with malice. 

By this point, it’s clear what is happening; their unworried posture has dispelled Lilia’s anxiety and, by paying attention to her symptoms, she was able to quickly piece things together. Of course they would be playing with sex magic and, naturally, she would be drawn into the middle of it. 

Her boobs ache something fierce, taunt and heavy, filling up with milk and just about ready to burst. Her body is heated, a pleasant warmth swirls in her stomach and her cheeks burn. Her first instinct is to give in, enjoy the sensations coursing through her veins and ask the two idiots for help. Just the mere image of their pretty pink lips sucking her tits is enough to make her hold back a moan. 

She isn’t sure the urge is only a side effect of the potion. 

“Oh, they are going to get big.” Agatha smirks, amusement lacing her tone. In an uncanny show of synchrony, the couple’s heads drop to the side as they hungrily stare at the other woman’s cleavage. “Well… bigger than they already are.” 

It isn’t uncommon for Agatha or Rio to flirt with Lilia, but, given the situation, their unperturbed demeanor is aggravating the divination witch more than usual. And, in the end, her exasperation wins over her soaked slit. She huffs, rolls her eyes and storms out of the kitchen. 

“Lilia!” The brunette exclaims. “C’mon, live a little! This isn’t going away by itself. We can give you a hand.” She gesticulates openly, following Lilia out of the room with Rio calmly accompanying them. “Or, more precisely, two mouths.” 

The joke is ignored. The couple observe from the first floor as the fortune teller stamps her way up the stars, cursing the pair under her breath. 

“Don’t be proud, Calderu.” Rio shouts, a last attempt at smoothing her feathers.

“Fuck off.” The grey-haired woman yells, hearing the entity’s snicker at her response. 

“Good luck!” Agatha screams, sharing a grin with the black-haired woman as a door bangs on the upper floor. 

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

If asked, Lilia would answer that shame and pride don’t match her color palette.

Therefore, when an hour has gone by and she makes her way into the living room - by now with a bigger problem on her hands - she refuses to act like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs.  

Head held high and robe tightly tied around her, she walks calmly through the dark hallway, towards the faint sound of conversation she hears from afar. Her little episode in the bath is all but ignored, her wet center still begging for more of the relief brought by her fingers. 

Looking at herself in the mirror had been startling, the reason behind the tightness of her bra was clear the moment she saw her naked reflection. Her breasts had doubled - she’d say even tripled - in size. They felt painfully heavy, her neck stiff with the unfamiliar weight.  

Worst of all was the desire to nurture, to have someone plaint in her arms as they sucked her dry. 

She had tried it all; squeezing, massaging, using some goddamn magic pump that had not worked. Nothing helped, in fact, her attempts appear to have only made it worse. Her tits felt fuller than ever, sore and tight, the liquid pressing against her skin. 

And what if she had gotten frustrated enough to get herself off with the image of the couple who put her in this predicament for starters? She wouldn’t tell, and her shame wouldn’t show either. 

It did not go well with her color palette after all. 

“I’m big, it’s the pictures that got small.” 

The voices Lilia had heard from upstairs were apparently from the television, for the couple was too occupied to talk. Their kiss is languid, slow, with a familiarity that makes it all the more torturous for Lilia to watch as she stands by the living room threshold.  

If one of them notices the new arrival, they don't let it show. 

In an attempt to draw the attention of the pair on the couch, the fortune teller forcefully clears her throat, by now used to catching them in similar predicaments. 

They separate from their kiss, surprised grunts escaping their lips. Rio doesn’t bother to leave Agatha’s lap when she catches sight of the grey-haired woman, only smirks in the darkness of the living room upon seeing her, impish eyes watching the divination witch from her straddling position. 

“Took you long enough.” 

Lilia can’t help but to scoff at the brunette’s remark. 

The ache on her tits is, however, stronger than her desire to turn on her heels and head back upstairs. 

Agatha straight up dumps Rio on the sofa, patting the cushion and making space for the older woman to sit between them. The entity scoffs and smiles, shaking her head at her wife’s rough treatment and taking no time to kneel on the soft pad to face Lilia, dark eyes following her movement. 

The fortune teller presses her lips forward in a hard line, fidgeting with her flowy sleeves as she moves to take her designated place. The temperature is high, the room feels abnormally hot and electric, their bodies' warmth mingling and increasing in the close arrangement they find themselves in. 

The black-haired woman hums under her breath, leaning towards Lilia.

“You smell like jasmine.”

As if Rio’s words are a cue, the fortune teller feels Agatha's palms traveling up her midsection. 

The slap is so quick the brunette doesn’t have time to evade the contact, bringing her hand up to cradle against her chest. 

“Lilia!” She exclaims, faking offense. 

Unfortunately for the smug couple, the divination witch would not let them play her like a prey.

Fixing her posture, Lilia starts. “Shush. This is all your fault. If you two-” 

“We weren’t even with you when you drank the milk.” Rio cuts her off, shrugging when the grey-haired woman throws her a fuming glance. 

Pinching the bridge of her nose for a few seconds and gathering her non-existence patience, the fortune teller takes in a deep breath before opening her eyes and saying. 

“We’re going to make this quick.” Index finger pointing at their respective faces, rings reflecting  in the low light of the television. 

The glance exchanged by the couple did not go unnoticed by the divination witch, however, she chooses to ignore it. Whatever non-verbal conversation they were having didn’t affect her instruction on the matter. 

In spite of how clear it is, the order seems to be all but ignored when they both move to mount her, each straddling one of her thighs, matching smirks looking down at her. 

“Did you hear what I just said!?” The fortune teller exasperation is clear.

Her breasts become more sore by the second, this cat and mouse game has made her madder than before and her composure is quickly slipping. 

The thin materials separating their skin are no help. 

“Relax, Lilia. You were the one who said you wanted to make this quick.” Agatha says, hot center covered by satin shorts rubbing against the divination witch as she moves to throw her long hair back. “Well, two mouths are better than one, or however that saying goes.” 

The gray-haired woman rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Don’t be stubborn, Calderu." Rio amends simply, deep cleavage close to Lilia’s face. 

The fortune teller’s blood boils. 

“Honestly!” She rages, unbalancing the women on her lap as she reaches down to untie her robe. 

Her restraint had run dry. 

“If you intend to annoy me, you should use your mouths for something better.” 

The surprised raised eyebrows and smirks are completely lost on Lilia as she struggles against the knot. 

Her hands are softly removed before Agatha’s deft fingers work on the tie, unwrapping the older woman like a present. 

The robe spills to the sides, opening to reveal creamy white skin, wrinkles from neck to bust and engorged breast, hard nipples begging for release. Rio’s grin is positively predatory as she watches a single drop of milk form under the new attention, trickle down and disappear underneath Lilia's breast. 

Following its wet trail, Agatha’s nail brushes upwards and she watches as the grey-haired woman shudders underneath her, letting out a sound of discomfort. The caress is a torture on its own, if Lilia’s nipples could get any harder than they already are, they would, but with her skin as tight as it is the motion only leaves her throbbing. 

The brunette’s eyes are fixed on the newly exposed skin, gaze unmoving as more milk produces under her soft touch. The other occupants of the room watch the brunette’s tranced state with bated breath as she leans in to close her mouth around a nipple.  

A combination of moans echo through the living room, the dialogue coming from the television unable to drown them out. Lilia’s hand acts on its own accord, her eyes shut close and her hips involuntarily can up, fingers tangling in the brunette’s mane and bringing her closer. 

The relief is instantaneous and the arousal smearing her panties-free thighs is not lost on her. 

Rio stares as pleasure blooms on her face, mouth hanging open as Agatha’s lip works on her nipple. Like a starving woman, the brunette loses herself to the feeling of the warm milk coaxing her tongue, her mind nowhere to be found, her actions controlled by nothing but her instincts. Groans escape her and her palm reaches for the other woman’s breast, squeezing the taunt flesh. 

An invisible bubble seems to form around them, the world ceases to exist to the women engaged, and Rio watches, entranced by the image upon her. The way Lilia’s brows furrow under the attention, legs rubbing together to relieve some of the tension there. How milk cascades down Agatha’s chin as she rapidly gulps, wits lost to the magic, to the overwhelming attraction she has always had for the older witch. 

“Yes, baby, just like that.” 

Agatha whines at Lilia’s encouragement, hips grinding down on the gray-haired woman’s thigh. Her nails painfully sink into the flesh of the divination witch, her breath comes out in uneven puffs against her skin. Rio’s fingers join Lilia’s on her scalp and the entity softly pulls Agatha up by the hair, the fortune teller’s palm falling to her neck. 

“Agatha.” Rio calls gently.

The brunette’s pupils are blown wide, her eyes staring deeply into her wife’s as she pants from the exertion, mouth white with milk. She continues to ride the other woman’s leg, Lilia’s thumb caressing her throat. 

“Breath.” 

Rio pulls her in for a kiss, tongues meeting halfway. It's slow, the black-haired woman settling a rhythm to calm the brunette, and in the process tasting Lilia for the first time. 

The moan that tears itself from her throat is animalistic. She squeezes Agatha’s scalp harder, thighs closing against the divination witch’s leg. The magic pricks her lips, leaving a sort of numbness behind. It’s sweet, not quite like anything she has ever savored before, and it sends a wave of heat down her body. An unusual desire to be nurtured, to have the gray-haired woman’s finger fondling her while she enjoys the warmth of her body. 

To growl and bite at anything that dares come too close to them, to protect what is hers. 

She suddenly feels parched. 

Letting go of the brunette, she instinctively turns towards Lilia as Agatha goes back to sucking her dry. The fortune teller’s pupils are similar to the brunette’s -and she’d bet her own-, her breath is ragged and she watches the entity back, eyes searching for reassurance. Whatever it is that she wants to find, she doesn't have the time to do so because Rio pounces on her, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. Teeth clashing painfully and the taste of blood gracing their tongues. 

It doesn't matter, for the kiss is short lived. Death pulls away, gazing deeply at her before moving her mouth south, joining the other woman at breast level. If Rio had been the only one in her right mind, that had been thrown into the wind. 

And Lilia can’t find it in herself to care. 

It was undeniable that she found the other two witches attractive and now, with the potion decreasing her inhibitions, she couldn’t find a single reason to not act on it. Not when they look so prettily sitting in her lap, swollen pink lips bringing her pleasure. 

Ring clad fingers cradle soft locks, back dislodging from the couch to chase the pleasure coursing through her. Their groans mingle and reverberate on her skin, her nipples pleasurably sore under the attention. She doesn’t even notice when her hands travel down to hips, holding waists to help both women grind down against her. Wishing to somehow retribute the pleasure they are providing to her. 

The couple has no qualms in following her lead, used to embracing their desires a lot more than she is. The thin material of their pajamas rub against her leg, silk soaked by their wet slits. The sucking sounds echo each other and the women on her knees close their eyes, tongue caressing her nipples and teeth lightly scraping her sensitive skin. 

Lilia can’t help but curse out loud, sicilian nonsense escaping her lips as she trashes on the couch, nails sinking into any flesh she can hold on to and tears pickling her half-closed eyelids. 

Breaths mingle over her chest and the couple clash over her once more to share a kiss, this time, however, it's frantic. 

Rio’s previous caution is out the window and the fortune teller hears the woman growl, a sound resembling a wild predator. 

Lilia can only watch, entranced, as the milk on their mouths cascades down their fronts, smearing over their cheeks in their hectic encounter. Movements speed up, groans growing louder as each search for their own pleasure in her thigh, scratching and biting the other while at it. 

The fortune teller throbs, wetter than she has ever been before, the display unhelpful for her aching cunt. She wants to reach out, touch them, touch herself, but she feels paralyzed by her overwhelming arousal. 

It's too much. 

It’s not enough. 

A moan escaping her throat is enough to draw their attention again and - she realizes this time when they look at her - their minds seem as lost as hers, they are as driven by instinct as she is. 

They alternate it this time, Rio goes directly towards her chest as Agatha kisses her. It’s different, though, the brunette handles her like a fragile little thing, a porcelain doll she holds dearly in her heart, their lips meeting with care. Agatha’s hand grabs her messy ponytail and brings her close, whining against her lips in desperation. 

It is clear that the magic affected the women differently. 

While the brunette felt almost pliant in her hands, needy and clinging to Lilia as if the older woman could shield her from the world, as if the comfort of her embrace was something she had lacked all her life and she distressedly needed it, the black-haired woman was animalistic in nature, with a possessiveness she had never shown before, eyes darting left and right as if she expected anyone to pounce on them at any moment. Her posture was of starvation, of protectiveness. 

Taking pity on her, Lilia’s hand runs down to help Agatha reach her pleasure, feeling the erratic move of her hips when her ring-clad finger finds her clit in the impossible soaked slit, keeping it still to let the woman chase the pleasure herself. 

It doesn’t take long, it is clear she was close already, and in no time Agatha seizes in her arms, grinding harder and harder until her lips are forming an ‘O’ shape against the gray-haired woman’s one, uneven breath leaving her as she melts in her neck.  

With one orgasm out of the way, they collectively seem to be able to focus a little better. It feels less frantic when Agatha joins Rio once again to finish what they started.  

It has been known by Lilia that there are multiple types of climax for women; she, however, had never thought she'd be able to come only by someone stimulating her breasts. For as long as she has been alive, this is the first time in her life she felt close to her peak without being touched anywhere else. 

And it is in a steady rhythm that her pleasures wash over her, the couple’s administrations on her chest never stopping. The sucking feels other-wordly as the witches’ throats bob against her skin, their palms travelling to her side, grabbing her waist and keeping her still lest she escapes from their mouth.

Rio seems to mimic her in action, speeding up her hips when Lilia’s own cans upwards, chasing her pleasure in time with the other witch. 

It is a feeling she had never experienced before, warmness spreading from her chest through her body, her cunt squeezing around nothing and her clit throbbing without being touched. Her nipples feel impossibly hard, hardening even more so when her peak washes over her. Goosebumps rising over her flesh as she faintly feels Rio’s thigh squeezing her legs harder, her body becoming rigid from the climax. 

It doesn't last long, but the magic accompanies it, leaving her tingling in an unfamiliar way, finger tips numb. Her breasts are still sore, although in a different manner altogether, she doesn't feel the liquid tightly pressing against her skin anymore. They feel lighter, even if still sensible, and she has to close her eyes to gather enough thoughts to deal with the situation at hand.

Rio and Agatha slump beside her on the couch, ragged breathing and wet lips glistening on the low light of the living room, the movie playing as background noise. 

“Well, we can cross two things off of our bucket list now.” 

Agatha snorts at her wife’s commentary. 

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

Thunder rumbles in the distance as the dark forest lights up. Heaven is pouring over the path, green leaves are heavy with wetness and the ground is thick with mud. In the midst of the storm, an old castle stands, its towers high and covered in vines. Inside, the inhabitants of the place can hear the harsh drops banging against the glass windows.

In one of the rooms, a man lies groaning and mumbling, pain and fever drowning out his brain. Your father’s illness was spreading faster than anticipated, worry grows in your stomach at the prospect of being left alone or worse, having to find a husband to care for the state. 

Early on, your father made you believe it was a common disease that would pass with time, but now you realize he was only trying to spare you. You’ve been by his side since he was put on bed rest. 

The words fall easily from your lips as you read the book out loud, trying to bring him some sort of comfort and to distract yourself from the sobs he lets out. In his last bout of madness he had just about dispensed the entire personnel, the only one left was your childhood babysitter turned maid, Dora. 

She was on a mission sent by you, the last healers had been of no help, it's hard to find a good doctor in such an isolated place, surrounded only by very poor villages. Any money you had would be spent in your father’s health if it meant he would return to his usual self. 

You glance out the window and observe the lightning strike in the distance, the mist makes for gloomy weather even in the afternoon. Standing up, you grab the man’s uneaten soup and head to the kitchen. Growing up a daddy’s girl hadn’t made you useless, baking was your main interest, but Dora had taught a thing or two about how to prepare meals.

The halls are illuminated only by the dim light from outside and yet, you easily make your way through the place, knowing it by hand after living here for years. After barely reaching the kitchen, a loud noise startles you. As much as the rain could make you mistake it for a thunder, the sound was very distinguished. 

You approach a window and search the foggy landscape for what could have caused the crash. Squinting down, you see a carriage in the road, stuck in the mud after slamming into a tree. Who would be travelling in this weather is beyond you. 

Wary of strangers, you peer from inside. With your limited view, you can barely make out the rain-soaked figures, circling the timber transportation. By the image, you assume they are the owners. 

A bolt of lightning strikes nearby and the light helps you identify the silhouette of three women, the coachman nowhere to be seen. You act immediately, leaving the bowl in the sink and heading for the entrance, you leave the castle. You’d never let any woman fend for herself in this weather. 

The harsh wind and the thick drops of rain leave you drenched in seconds while you bunch up your dress, making your way to the main gate. Your bare feet sink into the mud and the wet clothes slow you down as you shout to grab their attention. 

Their hearing seems to be extremely good, because even in this windstorm they turn around to meet your eyes. You can’t really see their appearance, but that doesn’t matter as you open the metal doors and invite them in. 

The invitation brings a smirk to the women’s  lips and you get the faint impression that they aren’t fazed by the rain or even in need of help, but you dismiss it as irrationality. On the way back to the castle, you glance back every now and then, taking in their manners. 

Leading them inside, you quickly grab a candle and light the chandeliers around the room. A gasp leaves your mouth as you turn to them. 

“Are you alright? You are covered in blood.” They look down at themselves and the older one is fast to assure you, squeezing the dress in her ring-laden hand.

“Just a few scrapes.” 

It certainly doesn’t look like it. Their fronts were completely bathed in crimson and their chins are covered by it. They don’t look sick, however, they stand tall and their unusual paleness does not appear to be from hemorrhage.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a medic available at the moment. The only thing I can offer is a warm bath and change of clothes.” You say, ashamed of your lack of hospitality. “I’ve made some soup, if you are interested.” 

“We would surely enjoy a meal.” The brunette takes a step towards you and the gray haired one is quick to grab the taller woman’s wrist that was making its way to your face. 

“Do not worry. We have already eaten.” She clasps their hands together and holds them at her waist level, shooting the woman a warning glance.

This odd interaction makes your brows furrow and you take a moment to really look at them. 

They are very different, so you wouldn’t guess they are related, however, you can tell that they come from wealthy backgrounds. Their dresses are full and covered with intricate patterns, the colors bright beneath the red stain and their necks are dripping with gemstones and pearls. 

The one furthest back is dressed in green, her hair akin to a dark winter night, as black as it gets. She’s sideways, swinging softly while regarding you up and down. Her eyes are covered in dark makeup that is now running down her face and she’s fidgeting with her fingers. She reminds you of a caged animal ready to pounce. 

The long haired brunette stands by your side, she looks deep into your eyes and smirks. She’s wearing purple and you briefly wonder if she’s some kind of royalty, she does have an imposing presence. Her eyes are light blue and there’s a dangerous mischief swimming behind them, her sharp canines gleam in the dim light of the room. 

The older woman holds the other one tightly. Her eyes are focused on the brunette and her dress is red with yellow details. Her hair is a beautiful blend of white, black and gray strands. Although at first glance she seems kinder than the other two, something in your gut tells you not to trust her either. Blushing, you look away when your eyes catch sight of her ample cleavage. 

Even dripping all over the floor and covered in mud and blood, you can clearly see they are indeed very beautiful.

“No need to fret about a medic, Rio here is a great healer.” She tells you, pointing to the one in the darkness. 

“You’re a healer?” With wide, surprised eyes, you ask. “I’ve never heard of a female doctor.” 

“I like plants.” She says blankly, shrugging. 

A woman of few words then.

You look at the three of them and plaster your best welcoming smile. 

“Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll just take a moment to heat up the water.” Before you can add anything else, the brunette interrupts you. 

“We will come with you.” Something about her stare makes you feel like you’re being stalked. 

“Agatha, don’t be rude.” The still nameless one scolds and Rio lets out an amused scoff. 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind the company.” You are quick to assure. “The kitchen is this way.” 

Walking ahead, you miss the silent conversation that finally makes the older woman release Agatha. Rio skips behind you and you watch her from your side view as she looks around, curiosity shining in her face. The kitchen isn’t far from the main hall, so it doesn’t take long to settle them at the wooden table and light the fireplace. 

“Where were you headed in this storm?” Pouring water into the pot, you ask.

It takes a moment, but the one in red and yellow answers for them. 

“To the nearest village to the west.” 

“You came from Southwold?” It's the only other village close to this region.

You hear an absent hum and are quick to turn. “Did you witness any one of the attacks?” 

They eye each other and Rio is the one to ask, glint in her eyes as they widen and she bites the side of her tongue.

“Attacks?” 

“Yes, the word has travelled this far and there seem to be beasts lurking in that area. The victims were found with marks on their necks and sucked dry, or so they say. There are also rumors that they may be vampires, so I don’t know how much credibility I can give.” 

“You don’t believe in vampires then?” The brunette questions. 

“Those creatures from literature? No, I don’t.” You answer simply.

“Aren’t you afraid they will come at night and bite you, drinking your blood until you are nothing more than a corpse or worse, turning you into one of them?” The one in purple continues with a low voice, taunting you. 

Rio presses her tongue against her cheek and smirks, the other one doesn’t seem as amused as she rolls her eyes. 

“Honestly Agatha, you are not as funny as you think you are.” 

“I will have you know that people think I’m very funny, Lilia.” She lifts her chin at the older woman. 

“Who?” The question is followed by a face that looks like it has had a similar conversation several times. 

When the brunette remains silent, you hear Rio’s laugh accompany your much quieter one.

Turning back around and realizing that the water is already boiling, you put out the fire.

“Do you want some help, bella mia?” The older woman asks and they stand up to aid you. 

“Oh, yes. Please.” The water is divided between four pots and you hand each one their own.  

Climbing the stairs is difficult for you, while they barely put any effort into holding the heavy cauldrons, you struggle your way through it. The hallway is darkening as night falls, you can manage to make your way around it, but you're concerned for your guests, the candles have been left downstairs. 

Guiding them to one of the doors, you open to reveal a room, the ceiling is high and a second door leads to a bathing area. The bed rests against the left wall and the curtains open to show a misty landscape. 

“This is the first room.” You indicate and watch as they all step in together. “Oh, you don’t have to share-”

“We like to share.” Rio interrupts, sitting on the mattress, elbows propped back and throwing you a side smile. 

“I was wondering…why is a pretty thing like you alone in this big castle?” Agatha asks, her dress makes it look like she’s gliding through the air as she walks closer and grabs your chin. 

Face flushing and feeling a flip in your stomach, you wonder if you are coming down with the seasonal flu. 

You search for the older woman’s eyes, hoping to find aid. She looks at you from afar, farrow in her brows, lips pressed forward and chin raised, studying your features. 

It’s weird how comfortable they all seem bathed in blood.

“I’m not alone. My father is here.” Their reaction is collective, you feel a tension fall in the air and Agatha takes a step back, letting go of your face as the other two become rigid. 

“That’s why I wanted to ask for a favor, if it’s no trouble, of course.” Hands waving in the air, you stumble with your words, ashamed of asking help from strangers. “Rio, would you mind taking a look at him? He’s very sick and the other healers who came weren’t very helpful.” With your voice caught in your throat, you say. 

Focusing your attention on the black haired, you miss Lilia approaching and only feel a thumb swiping away a tear. 

“Of course she will. Won’t you, amuri miu?” The slender hand leaves your cheek and runs down to your shoulder, you shiver at the unintentional caress.

“Yes, yes.” She says, jumping off the bed she was lying on. 

“Oh! No need to do it now, I imagine you would like to wash yourself first.” Worried about the inconvenience, you insist. 

“No, I’m comfortable just the way I am.” She says with a boyish nature, raising her eyebrows and smiling.

She might be the oddest of the bunch, and that’s saying a lot when one of her opponents is the brunette. 

The one in green stalks out of the room and you blink at her readiness, grabbing your bucket before following her. You almost miss Agatha saying. 

“She can control herself, Lilia. Come here and tell me.” You leave, wondering what they will talk about. 

Your father’s room isn’t close, they are staying in your wing of the castle. You leave the pot in front of your door and wrap your arm around Rio’s, afraid she would trip due to the lack of proper light. She seems surprised by the initiative, but just leans into the touch, humming.

“I’m sorry, I should have brought the candles up.” 

“This is fine.” She says, resting on your shoulder. 

The walk is silent. Her skin is cold against you, muddy. Her hair blends with your own wet one and you hope she isn’t uncomfortable in her ruined clothes. Sometimes you feel her sniffing your neck and moaning, you dismiss it as an accident every time.  

Her body pressed against you brings a warmth you’ve never experienced before, the small sounds she leaves in your ears makes you shiver, goosebumps spreading across your skin. It’s a weird way to interact with a stranger, but you figure that since she lives with other women, it must be a natural way amongst friends. 

You wouldn’t know. Being raised in isolation in this castle, living only with your father and the servants, receiving sporadic visits from the daughters of your dad’s economic partners, was a very lonely experience.

The wooden door isn’t closed and you can hear your father’s groans from outside. Immediately letting go of Rio, you rush inside, knowing there’s nothing you can do but hoping your presence will bring him comfort. 

You feel the presence of the black-haired woman beside you and briefly wonder how she got closer without you noticing. The train of thought is interrupted when she hums. 

“How long has he been like this?” 

“A few months. At first it was barely a cold, but it progressed to anger outbursts and soon turned into bed rest.” Whispering, you tell her. 

“Mi amor.” She calls you, her eyes softening for the first time since you met her. “Do you want me to be direct?” 

“Please. No one else has.” You beg, relief washing over you for being respected for once 

“There isn’t much  I, or anyone else, can do.” Looking down at your father’s gaunt, pitiful figure and cocking her head, she adds. “The only thing I could do is help him pass over without pain.” 

You wait for the blow those words would cause, but it never comes. Subconsciously, you’ve already accepted his fate, and yours.

“Okay.” You mutter, grabbing his hand. “Just do what you can then.” 

Silence befalls you and brings a sense of alertness in the dark. As if taking your focus off your father’s situation had opened your mind to your surroundings, you take a step away from Rio.

“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll take care of him?” Her nails run down your hair and you flinch. 

“Oh, I couldn’t let you here alone. What kind of hostess would I be?” 

“A freezing one.” She widens her eyes and smirks at you, noticing your trembling form. 

“I- Yes, okay then.” You give up easily, it's been days since you’ve taken a proper moment to yourself.

Rushing back to your room, you slam the door and lean against it. With the knowledge of your father’s fate, you breathe for what feels like a long time and all the tiredness crashes at once. You feel pain on your lower abdomen from your menstrual cycle, the sleepless nights and the skipped meals. 

The dangerous aura inside the castle isn’t helping. As beautiful and kind as those women are, you can sense something is wrong with them, but now that they are here, you couldn’t just throw them out. 

Uncertain whether you want to leave the room as soon as you can or to remain as long as possible, you settle on an unhurried pace. The heavy dress is pulled off and discarded, you’d have to throw it away, your bare feet are cold and you walk to the bath house, dragging the almost cold water. The temperature is enough to make you take a quick bath, it’s not hot as it should be and the only thing your mind is focused on are those three. 

The cramps make your legs numb and you tuck a cloth in your undergarment before changing into your nightwear. Suddenly, you remember that you didn’t give them a change of clothes and hope they will find it in the cabinet in their room. God, you are such a terrible hostess, you didn’t even give them candles. You missed Dora, she’d know what to do. 

You’d have to check on them and luckily Rio would have something to ease your ache, the healers your father brought you were never helpful, maybe a woman would know better. Grabbing one of the chandeliers in your room, you make your way to their chamber. The hallway is dark and their door is open. 

The conversation can be heard from outside and the closer you get, the more identifiable the words become. Eavesdropping is rude, but there’s nothing wrong with doing it in your own home, right? 

“...enough to alleviate the pain.” Rio’s voice rings out and a hum follows. 

“At least now we know she’s here by herself.” Lilia says. 

“And you, mi amor, is a genius.” The nickname is practically moaned out. 

You hear a sound and the older woman’s low chuckle follows, they seem distracted enough for you to poke your head inside. 

The image makes you suppress a gasp. They are standing near a window and the moonlight illuminates them, Lilia is pressed against the wall smirking down at Rio. The black haired woman’s back is bent and she slowly raises her body until her eyes are level with the other’s. Her hands grip the waistband of the red fabric tightly.

“You and Agatha are so insatiable, you miss great opportunities.” She says, running her thumb over Rio’s cheek. 

“Good thing we have you then.” Even without looking, you can picture the black haired woman’s side smile. “Mmm, just the thought of drinking that virgin blood while she cums for me is enough to make my mouth water.” She nuzzles Lilia’s neck, her sharp teeth glinting in the dimly lit room. 

The older woman rests her head back and groans. “Rio.”

You take a step back, startled by their strange conversation and their close proximity. Just about ready to run, you collide with Agatha’s front. 

“Hi, hun.” She says, a mean smile plastered on her face. 

She’s clean and wearing a robe, just like the other two.

“Hello.” Your voice shakes. “I was-I was just about to ask if you needed any candles.”

“The room is in the other direction.” The brunette points ahead, closing up on you. “Did you need anything else?” 

“Oh, I-.” Her closeness makes you nervous and you stumble over your words. “I came to ask if Rio had any medicine for my cramps.” Wincing, you realize you shouldn't have said that. 

“Well then, let’s ask her.” Agatha guides you into the room, her hand on your lower back. 

Inside the chamber, you notice that Lilia and Rio are in completely different positions that they were before. The black haired woman is lying on the bed and Lilia is across the room, folding their ruined dresses. Was your tired mind playing tricks on you? Making you paranoid?

“What can we do for you, cara?” The older woman asks. 

“She’s having pain issues, apparently her monthly is giving her some trouble.” The brunette answers for you and you squirm in place, feeling her presence behind you. 

“Come here.” Rio gestures for you to come forward, crawling on all four on the bed and smirking at you. 

You take tentative steps towards her as she sits up. Standing in front of her, her eyes are level with your breasts and her hand brushes against your lower stomach, you shiver. 

“Here?” She asks, looking up at you.

“I- yes.” 

“I have just what you need. Lay down for me.” She pets the mattress beside her and gets up. 

“What for?” Warily, you ask.

“I need to see what I’m working with.” Her eyebrows raise.

Freezing at the implication, you stare at her, speechless. 

“Don’t worry, hun. We are all women here.” The way Agatha speaks doesn’t bring you any sort of comfort. 

Your husband should be the only one to touch you down there. However, she is a medic, so that would be an exception, right? 

“Come on, cara. I will hold you, while she examines you.” The older woman’s hands fly out and she steps closer. Her touch on your waist is so gentle, by the time you register your position, you’re already lying between her thighs, her robe riding up beside you. 

Agatha comes to stand behind Rio, watching as she props up your legs and lifts your nightgown. The brunette's eyes are dark and focused and when Rio takes off your undergarment, they all let out a collective moan, you wince at the scent that fills the room, embarrassed. 

When the black haired woman parts your lower lips, you back up into Lilia, trying to avoid the touch. 

“What- What are you doing?” You stutter, redness rising in your chest.

“Do not worry, cara. This is the procedure.” The older woman whispers in your ear and you dig your nails into her thighs. 

You feel Rio's harsh breath ghost your skin, you wait for her to say something and when her voice comes out, she sounds restrained, as if she’s struggling to keep herself under control. 

Oh god, the smell must be making her nauseous. 

“Oh, yes. I’ve got just the thing indeed.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just glares at your center.

“Have you ever heard of an orgasm, dear?” Agatha is the one to elaborate. 

You couldn’t say you had, so you shake your head. 

“It’s a great remedy for period pain.” Lilia says behind you, her low voice reverberating against you. “Do you want to try it? It’s a three-step treatment and we’ll help Rio with it.” 

“I- if you’re sure it will help. My pain is worse than usual, probably from exhaustion.” 

“Oh, yes. It most certainly will.” The brunette says mischievously, coming to stand by your side. “Lilia and I will help you relax while Rio begins the procedure.” 

Agatha obscures your vision when she straddles you, she must be trying to draw your attention away from Rio, because a few seconds later you feel a finger probing your entrance. You immediately tense up. 

“None of that.” Lilia says. Her hand travels over your stomach and goosebumps follow in its wake. 

Agatha leans down to run her mouth along your neck, a deep moan escaping her. With that, you feel Rio’s finger enter you, press upwards and send a shiver down your spine. She doesn’t linger, after the intrusion you hear a growl and a wet pop.

The older woman’s hands run up and grab your breasts, the action causes a coil inside you and you writhe beneath the brunette. Agatha’s tongue leaves a wet trail on your skin, her pointy teeth land against your jugular and she trembles above you, holding tightly into your waist to keep herself in place. 

Below your hips, you feel the black haired woman rub something firm and wet against your private place. At first, you’re sure her digits are covered in a special balm, but it doesn't take long for you to realize it’s her tongue. 

You grab Lilia's knee and screech. 

“Wha- What are you doing?” Agatha lets out a low chuckle under your chin, nuzzling. 

“Shh, baby. Let her do her work.” The gray-haired woman hushes you. Her thumbs run over your nipples and they become hard as they only get in the winter.

 What a strange reaction. 

You don’t understand what Rio is doing, per se, but you can feel her groans and grumbles reverberating against you. Is this treatment enjoyable to her? You can’t imagine the taste of menstrual blood being much better than the smell of it.

At the end it doesn't matter what her reaction is, because you feel a weird sensation building under your skin, a pressure growing inside you that only gets worse when Lilia’s fingers travel down and push against your stomach. You throw your head back against her shoulder, moaning and giving the brunette better access. 

Agatha’s hips move against your belly, her mess of curls rub against your skin and leave a rough feeling behind, there’s a strange wetness where her center meets you. Her lips attach to your neck, a whine leaves you when she sucks and Lilia’s digits pinch your nipple.

The older woman's movements are very similar to the brunette’s, her front moves in circular motions against you and the rocking motion makes Rio growl as she holds tighter on your thighs, propping your knees in her shoulder. 

The black haired efforts double and the coil tightens, your center moves on its own accord, following her mouth and undulating forward. She pulls you down, dislodging you from Agatha’s mouth and sucking hard. 

The culmination dawns on you at once, your hands travel to the brunette’s waist and your nails sink into her skin. Your thighs close around Rio’s head and you don’t even think that you might be hurting her. Goosebumps rise on your skin and Lilia grasp keeps your mind from spiraling as your body convulses and your legs tremble. 

You only realize your back has arched when it crashes back onto the bed. Your breath comes out ragged and your blurred vision catches sight of Agatha’s wide smirk. 

“Oh, I forgot how easy virgins are.” Rio’s mocking voice sounds from beneath, still obscured by the brunnet’s form. 

Lilia pulls you up into position, your back meets her full breasts.

“My turn.” Her chest rumbles as she speaks. 

“Hey!” Agatha exclaims, you could imagine her stomping her feet if she were standing.

“Shut it, Harkness.” The older woman responds and the brunette narrows her eyes at her. 

Their conversation is cut short by the scream you let out. Sharp teeth sink into your flesh, your right thigh burns and tears prickle your eyes as the barrier of your skin breaks. 

“Rio.” You sob out at the pain.

“That’s alright, baby.” Lilia’s hand swipes the sweat of your forehead and you curl against her neck, trying in vain to close your legs as the black haired woman holds them open. 

The older woman’s hand travels down your body, Agatha climbs away from you with a sour face that quickly disappears once she spots Rio, an excited smile forming in her lips. Contrary to the brunette’s reaction, you gasp at the image, flabbergast. 

Rio stands in front of your spread legs, a huge grin stretches across her face and she looks like the cat who got the canary. Her chin is dripping with blood. The dark color of her eyes is impossible to see with her dilated pupils, her hands are shaking and she grabs Agatha to crush their mouths together. 

You choke as they kiss, the crimson liquid smearing across their faces as they moan into each other's lips. The action leaves you confused and you have a feeling that this situation is getting out of hand. 

You’re suddenly pulled from your thoughts by Lilia grabbing your knees and placing them behind her legs, spreading you wider than you already were. Heat rises in your cheeks as your center is thoroughly exposed. 

“Um, Lilia. My pain is already gone, there’s no need to continue.” Embarrassed, you whisper. 

“Baby, it’s a three step treatment. You have to hold out until we are done now.” 

“Hold out?” You ask, panic laced in your voice. “Will it hurt from now on?”

“Just at first. Then you’ll feel as good as rain.” Her fingers slide down your belly and over your folds, the digits run up and down. “Oh baby, you are so wet it might not even hurt.”

Relief washes over you. 

A bang against the wall pulls you out of the exchange and you look up to see Rio pressing Agatha against a wall, the brunette's legs circle her waist and Rio is rapidly untying her robe. You watch as her hand disappears and Agatha throws her head back, a wanton moan leaving her.

The feeling of someone else's skin against your core has you jerking away from the touch, sensitive beneath the caress. 

“Lilia.” You whimper. 

She hums behind you and one of her fingers sinks into your entrance, just like with Rio, it's a tight fit. It doesn’t hurt, but you feel a strange fullness.

“Focus on Rio and Agatha, that will distract you from the discomfort.” 

Your sight strays to the other two again. Rio’s hands are moving fast and Agatha is repeatedly slamming into the wall, she licks all the blood from the black haired woman’s face. You can feel Lilia’s finger enter you more easily, she presses upwards and you shakily breathes before asking. 

“Should they do that?” 

“Do what, baby?” Her voice sounds husky.

“Kiss.” 

“Oh, yes. It’s how we show love between women, haven't you ever done that?” There’s no reason for you to believe her words are insincere, so you just shake your head.

The wet plunge noise of her finger stops and you feel a momentary disappointment. That is, until she starts working a second one inside. 

This time the intrusion hurts. You grab into her wrist to prevent her from moving any deeper, your skin feels tight as if it's going to rip at your center. She takes pity on you and moves her red digits out, you observe as they travel upwards, past your eyesight. A moan follows a swallowing sound. 

There isn’t much time for you to breathe before her hand descends into you again. This time she doesn’t stop until the palm of her hand meets your flesh. Tears stream down your face as she scissors her fingers, widening your entrance. 

As you close your eyes, your other senses become heightened. Agatha’s moans are increasing in volume and Rio grunts against her, you can imagine how bruised the brunette will wake up tomorrow from the way she slams against the wall. Your core burns and as the older woman starts over her in and out motion, the pain worsens.

It only lasts for a while, because, just like she said, the good feeling returns. You whine and buck your hips against her hand, brushing something against her palm that makes you moan. She speeds up and you feel the blood making its way down to the bed, staining your white robe. 

An unsatisfied feeling bubbles up inside you, there's a pleasurable sensation coursing through your skin, but unlike before, you feel the need to chase it instead of letting it come to you. 

You’re not certain what that implies, but your movements become erratic, you rut into Lilia’s palm and throw your head back, barely hearing Agatha let out one last scream before the pound sounds stops. The only thing on your mind is reaching for the peak that’s increasing in your stomach. 

Lilia’s fingers meet you halfway and your movement stutters when you bump into the spot that made you moan earlier, with renewed energy and following your instincts, you rub the bud harder into the older woman’s palm. Trashing your head back and sobbing, you feel your body tense up for the second time tonight and you cry out when Lilia’s teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. 

The pain mixes with the pleasure and you are left disoriented, white spots dancing across your vision and mind spinning as your body spasms. You feel breathless and on the verge of panic. Crimson clings to the outside of your thighs and your nightclothes is long gone, unusable. 

Hands grab your ankle and pull it down, your body dislodges from the older woman’s and you are left staring at the ceiling. 

“Are we done?” You sob, overwhelm taking over you. 

“Are we hurting you, baby?” Lilia counter asks, her face and the others appearing in your field of view. 

Sight still blurred, you hesitate before whispering. “No”

The sobs come out uncontrollably once you can focus on their faces. Rio and Agatha’s hair are completely out of place, their chins and cheeks are covered in dry blood and their mouths are swollen and red from the rough kissing. Tears stream down your face and only get worse when Lilia’s sticky fingers run across your scalp. 

You are not sure why you are crying, but you just can’t stop. 

Panic sets in as your breath catches in your throat, the hiccups come out nonstop and you feel Agatha’s hands run down your heels, trying to bring you some comfort. She pulls you up by your arms and places you on her lap, your legs on either side of her left thigh. 

“Oh, hun.” She wipes away the pouring tears. “Are the cramps still bothering you?” 

“N-no.” The word is cut off in half by your sob.

“See, then it’s working.” She places her hands on your waist and grinds you down, you whimper at the oversensitivity. 

A pair of lips brush against your ear as Rio whispers. 

“We are almost done, mi amor.” 

And after that, you are gone, your mind goes into overdrive as Agatha pushes you down and rubs your curls against her skin. Her robe falls open and you can’t help but stare at her breasts, they bounce with the force she uses to move you and you have the strange urge to suck on them. 

The previous two orgasms, as they call it, have prepared you for the pressure building inside you. However, this time it's quick and painful. The friction worsens the sharp sensation that shoots up your spine every time you bump your bud into her flesh, you feel wetness running down your face as Agatha continues with her rough thrusting. 

With your core burning and at the peak of your coil, the brunette stops completely. You are not sure whether to whine at the interruption or feel relief for your sensitive center. You don’t have much time to think about it when Agatha throws you back onto the bed, movements so fast that you barely have time to process before you feel her mouth on your core, pushing your knees up until they meet your stomach.  

The growl she lets out reverberates through you and you groan at the feeling. She laps at you like a starving dog, gathering up all the blood that had previously smeared across your thighs and seeped down. You tense when she swipes her tongue over your other hole. It’s so quick and completely forgotten as she focuses her attention on your entrance, slurping up the wetness and swallowing it like it is her favorite drink. 

She’s so quick with it and as in the verge as you already were, it doesn't take long for you to tense up like the previous time. Apparently Agatha wasn’t the patient type. Your thigh tightens and she places her thumb against your bud, prolonging your pleasure as she pulls away from you to bite the skin of your thigh, matching the one Rio has placed on the other side. 

The cry is automatic, the three bites were extremely painful and you still don’t understand the need for them. The crimson that comes out of your thighs mixes with that of your cycle and all you can see when you look down is red. Agatha’s eyes stare up beastly and it seems she’s about to pounce on you when Rio places her hand on her lower back.

“Agatha.” The black-haired one says.

The brunette takes a deep breath and releases you, marching to the other side of the room. 

Lilia and Rio climb into either side of you. It feels like they’ve been gone for hours, or maybe it was only minutes, Agatha’s turn was intense and your mind wasn’t completely present. 

Your eyelids begin to drop as your heartbeat slows. Lilia’s fingers run over your scalp and Rio smirks down at you, taking in your ruined form as you lay in a dried puddle of your own blood. The last thing you see before sleep consumes you is the black haired woman running her tongue over her sharp teeth. 

Darkness haunts the space, the candle long since extinguished. You shiver in the cold, working your newly awakened brain. The light of the dawn shines through the window and helps you see the empty room. There's no one here, no trace indicating any other inhabitants in the castle during the night.  

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

Winter is always the hardest time of the year. The soil turns to slippery mud, staining dry leaves and sticking to the boots. The cold makes people sluggish, work is harder when your fingers are numb or your cough hasn’t gone away for a month. Supplies rarely come from outside and, more times than not, the village relies on the merchandise.

A bucket full of water is carried to a small hutt, your arm burns with the effort, the fingerless gloves don’t help with the chill and your palm is freezing. Your body weight is thrown entirely onto your left side, balancing the metal container with your shoulder. Around you whispers run free, the villagers comment on the lack of food, how this has been the worst temperature in years and that the sick people won’t last the season. A few glances are cast in your direction. 

Taking a deep breath and putting on a fake smile, you open the wooden door. The place is almost as cold as it is outside, in the few minutes you have spent out, the fire has died down. A furrow of worry forms between your eyebrows and you almost drop the bucket in favor of throwing more wood into the fireplace. 

“How are you doing, baby?” Kneeling down, you let your fingers warm up with the freshly caught flames. 

“I’m fine.” A small voice answers, accompanied by the sound of chattering teeth. 

Turning around, you examine her once more. Several blankets are on the bed, along with whatever cloth you had to spare, your sister's face pokes between them, her cheeks are flushed, her chin trembles and her mouth is pale. Getting up, you sit by her side, tucking her once more and letting out a small smile, there’s no need for her to know how worried you are. 

Running your eyes over her face and placing the back of your hand against her forehead, you reach out and drag the bucket closer, dipping the used rag into the water. 

“That 's cold.” She buries her neck deeper into the blankets, trying to evade your touches. 

“I know, baby.”

It would be better for her fever if she took a bath, but you couldn’t make her go through that in this temperature and, either way, it would worsen her cough. Pursing your lips, you hold back the tears, your head is spinning trying to find a solution to her situation. It's times like these that you miss your mother the most, she would know what to do and you pray that she sends you strength.

The setting sun casts a shadow over the hutt, the fire is the only form of light and you stir the boiling pot as your sister sleeps behind you. There’s barely enough food for her, you’d have to spend another night with a growling stomach and buy ingredients the next day to make more soup. Pouring into a bowl, you look at the liquid. It was well water and cabbage, the only components you could afford at this time of year. It wouldn’t give energy to a sick child, she needed meat. 

“Wake up, little dove.” 

Running your digits through her damp hair, you watch as her eyelids flutter open. Your heart clenches at waking her up, the matching bags under your eyes are enough to tell how many nights you both spent awake. She needed to eat though, so you shake her a little. 

“Come on, help your big sister.” You prop her head up higher to receive the spoon and she swallows with difficulty. 

“You will eat after me, right?” She lets out a croak. 

She has always been a smart girl. 

“Of course! Now eat, so I can have my turn.”

It's a battle to get her to eat it all. She complains about an upset stomach, that she’s not hungry, but she needs to hydrate and eat, even if it's just cabbage water. There isn’t a lot in the bowl either, so you make her swallow every drop before letting her go back to sleep. 

Lighting up a candle and sitting down on a wooden chair, you let out inaudible sobs as you gaze at her buddled form. She wouldn’t last the week. Tears stain your cheeks as you think of your family, you had already lost them all, you couldn’t lose her, you wouldn’t lose her. Wiping your face, you sniff and brave up, grabbing the quill by your side.

The sun’s rays stream through the window and directly into your face. The brightness blinds you for a few seconds and you groan as your brain catches up with your uncomfortable position. Stretching up, you feel your back pop into place, the drool on your chin sticks a paper into your face and your empty stomach makes you nauseous. The exhaustion of several sleepless nights has firmly set into your bones, but after a small nap you can feel some clarity in your mind, the plan you made the day before renewing your energy. 

Heaving a sigh, you watch the smoke trail from your lips and quickly stand up to light the flames. The burn feels comfortable against your fingers and you wrap your shawl tighter around yourself. Taking a minute, you focus on the things around, trying to forget your never ending anxious thoughts. 

The village outside is almost lifeless, a few people work on selling their remaining supplies. You can hear the well close by being used and the wet footsteps. There is no time to waste, though, so you get up, checking your sister's temperature before leaving the house. She still hasn't had any sort of improvement. 

It isn’t hard to find her, at the second tent after your house, the redhead sells her wares.

“Good morning.” You try to sound cheerful, your attempt clearly fails by the look on her face. 

“Hi, darling. How are you holding up?” Her concern is genuine, she leans forward on the wooden counter.

“Not so well. She’s getting worse and I barely have enough food to sustain her. I haven't eaten in days and I’m afraid if I get sick, she won’t have anyone to look out for her.” 

“Oh, dear. You should have told me, I’m sure I’ve got something to spare.” 

“This isn’t a burden for you to carry. I know you need the money as much as I do, and you have enough mouths to feed already.” The redhead had four children and a husband, the village wasn't bursting with customers, you could tell things were hard to sell. 

“I promised your mother I’d take care of you both.” She places her hand on your cheek and you lean against it. 

 “And you have! I just…I have a favor to ask.” You say uncertain.

“Anything for you, dear.” 

“Can you take care of her? Just for the day.” Waving your hands, you rapidly clarify. 

 “Of course, I understand if you need a moment to yourself.”

“No, that’s not- She needs meat.” You say simply, hoping the woman in front of you will follow your train of thought.

“Okay…and where are you going to get this meat?" She asks carefully.

Pursuing your lips, you stay quiet and wait for her to reach her own conclusion. It’s not the hardest riddle, there's only one place that would have meat outside from the lacking market.

“No- Not the Witches’ Road!” Her hands fly to her chest as she gasps.

“Not the road, just the forest.” You mumble, head down.

“It’s the same thing!” She insists. “You must think I’m crazy if you think I’m going to let you do this.”

“I have to! I promise I’ll be back before dark and when I do, I’ll share with you what I caught as a thank you.” 

“And what if you aren’t back by then?” She asks softly.

“If I don’t make it back…you won’t have to worry about feeding an additional mouth by the end of the week.” You tell her firmly, putting on a brave facade. “I’m leaving now, it’s already later than I planned. Have your husband take her to your cabin for the day and please keep her warm.”

You leave after that, she’d try to convince you not to go and she would succeed. 

The trembling fingers make it difficult to lace up your boot, the shaking stemming from the growing fear in your gut. Grabbing the warmest cloak you have, you kiss your sister’s feverish forehead before heading for the door. 

Not wanting to attract attention to yourself, you avoid the village. The shotgun lays heavy in your clammy palms, the ground crunching beneath your feet as you move away from the mud and towards the white blanket that covers the forest. It would be harder to hunt with the snow, and that’s without saying you haven’t had much practice before. Your father had taught you a thing or two, but no one in the village was a hunter. The only place one could do that was in the woods, and the one behind your village was no place to be. 

Just before the trees, you are met by a road. The lying leaves form a path and the snow piles up around them, they are green and set in perfect order, like someone had cleaned them and placed them by hand. It’s a short open field walk before entering the forest, you take a deep breath before stepping into it, promising yourself that, although it would be easier, you would stray from it as soon as you got inside the woods. 

It was common knowledge among the villages that circled this woodland that the place was haunted, owned by witches and their perverted magic. No one had ventured into it for years and all the men who tried had not returned to tell the tale of what lay behind these trees. Heart on your throat, you try to push your fears aside in favor of placing your boots on the soft snow, creating an indention on the previous perfect ground. You leave the road behind, distancing yourself as much as you can, convinced that if you stayed away from it, you would be fine. 

Your mother used to tell you bedside stories about this place, to this day you couldn’t tell if they were meant to scare a child away from here or the truth that spread around from mouth to mouth. She had told you that witches weren’t really women at all, they were demons in human form. 

Hours seem to pass, you feel like you’re walking in circles, passing the same trees over and over, wondering if the men who came here had lost their way as well and if that ended up being their downfall. 

Hearing a twig, you rapidly turn around, gun raised high. You hope it is an animal, you had left later than you should have and the winter brought early dusk, the temperature was already dropping and you wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible. 

Stalking your prey, you cautiously approach the sound, hiding behind a thick trunk and poking your head around to strategize. Instead, your breath catches in your throat as you are greeted by a hooded figure crouched on the ground, their back turned to you. 

The green color keeps the panic at bay, but you still watch carefully from afar, waiting for the figure to turn itself around and show their disfigured face. If it were a witch, perhaps you could kill them, it wasn’t the kind of meat you were looking for, but your growling stomach would agree to anything. 

The shotgun feels slippery, fear blooms in your gut and you step away from the tree, weapon raised. Studying the cloak, you notice its fine material, the fabric spread around the figure in the snowy camp and the print consisting of small runes. Gripping the gun tighter, you watch as the body rises from its previous position. 

“Turn around. Slowly.” You command, nothing more than a whisper in the quiet woods. 

It’s inevitable the way your guard goes down. The woman standing in front of you wears a brown and green dress, matching her hood. Her hair is almost as dark as charcoal and she has big brown eyes. She’s breathtaking. Your first instinct is to inspect her appearance, even though the weapon is no longer raised, you’d hate to fall into a witch's trap. 

The first thing you notice are her uncovered hands, they are raised chest height in surrender and she has all 10 fingers, no claws in sight. Your mother had said they were bald, but her straight hair falls to her shoulders. Her nose isn’t larger than normal and the corners of her mouth aren’t much longer beyond the smirk plastered on her face.

“Are you alright, M’Lady?” The shotgun is held in one of your hands, pointed downwards. “You shouldn’t be here, this wood is dangerous.”  

“You are here.” 

“I-...” The reply catches you off guard, it takes a second to respond. “Believe me, I wouldn't be if I could.” 

Her tongue rests against her cheek and her eyes roam your body. You fidge under her gaze and feel a flutter when she licks her lips, the situation is so intense you awkwardly amend.

“Haven’t you heard? This forest is haunted.” Her hard eyes snap up to yours and they seem to soften when she looks into your face. 

“I’ve lived here my whole life, I can assure you there’s nothing to be scared of. No one would hurt a pretty thing like you.” 

Your cheeks burn at her words and you notice a movement, she’s twirling a flower in her hands. How she got that in this weather is anyone's guess. 

“Come on.” She gestures for you to come forward with her hands. “You look starved, my friends and I can prepare a hot meal for you.” 

Your stomach hurts at the prospect, but you’re still uncertain about this stranger. 

“I am not sure-” 

“Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” She tells you, and for some reason you doubt her words. 

She turns around and doesn’t wait for you. You hesitate for a moment, but don't linger much, like a bug attracted to a light, something about her draws you in. 

The walk is short, the silence is comfortable, but her presence makes you nervous in a way you’ve never felt before. The only words exchanged between you are your names. The whole path you glance at her from the side and she doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the forest or the shotgun still dangling in your right hand. With her by your side you feel protected and take a moment to truly appreciate the beauty around you. 

The trees are tall, stretching beyond your field of view, the wood is greyish and the thin leaves are a dark green. The fluffy snow embraces your foot when you step down and, looking back, you see the perfect trail you left behind. Small flakes begin to rain down on you and you lift your palm to watch them land on it, a small smile gracing your lips. It’s been a while since you let yourself relax. 

You catch sight of a frozen lake and a cabin by it. The snow isn’t as thick around it and you can see the grass, the roof of the hutt is covered in white and a cozy yellow light slips through the windows. You stop for a second, but are quick to follow when Rio doesn’t wait for you. 

Stepping into the deck you can already feel the cold leave you, the house seems to be engulfed in some kind of warmth bubble. You don't have time to think about it when you are startled by Rio banging the door open. 

“Goddess Rio, why do you feel the need to do this every time?” A voice exclaims from the inside and a snort laugh follows. 

Rio enters before you and you poke your head inside in time to see her get in an older woman’s face and smile with wide eyes. 

“Because you react the same way every time.” She punctuates the last words and the gray-haired lady narrows her eyes at her. 

The interaction makes you curious, they do appear to be very close friends, maybe sisters? 

You freeze when the attention is turned to you by a voice.

“And what is this little present you brought for us?”

The woman previously reading on the couch stands up and walks towards you. She is gorgeous, her long hair falls like a waterfall down her front, her locks are wavy and brown. She wears a purple gown and has pretty blue eyes. A dangerous aura radiates from her and you take a step back instinctively.  

“Agatha.” The other voice calls out in warning. 

You turn and watch as the older woman steps away from the stove, grabs a blanket and spreads it out for you.

“Oh, you poor thing. Come here, you must be freezing.” She feels so inviting and entranced, you follow her command and step into her arms. 

She runs her hands up and down, trying to warm you up while you stare at her. She’s just as beautiful as the other two. Her grey hair is pulled into a bun, bangs with white streaks frame her face and she’s wearing some kind of yellow and magenta robe. Her brown eyes bring a sense of comfort and you relax into her embrace, letting her guide you into a wooden table and sit you at a chair. 

“Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of tea.” Her hand slides away from your shoulder and you shudder. 

The adrenaline of the hunt fades the second you feel the calm of your surroundings. Your entire body feels heavy with the exertion and the sleepless nights catch up with you once again, your damp clothes cling to your body and you shiver from the cold. Wrapping the warm cover around you tighter, you close your eyes and try to even out your breathing. 

The house scent  is delicious, the air smells like a mixture of wet grass, lilies and azaleas. The boiling water mixes with the natural aroma of their home and brings with it the spicy fragrance of unfamiliar herbs. Behind you, you can hear Rio and the kind lady whispering, their words indecipherable.  

The screech of a chair startles you, opening your eyes, you observe as the one in purple sits by your side. This time there is no room to retreat, so you just stare at her as she accesses your figure, throwing a smirk your way. She tries to open her mouth and is interrupted by the arm that enters your field of vision.

“There you go, doll.” The nickname causes a heat within you before the tea even reaches your lips. “Drink it all up. I’ll prepare a hot bath for you. We wouldn’t want you to be sick, would we?” 

“No.” She stops in her tracks and you flush when it dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve spoken since you got into the cottage. “I mean, I appreciate it, M’Lady, but I should be heading back.” 

“Nonsense. It’s almost night, you won't be able to find your way to the village before it gets dark.” The yellow sleeves move as she gestures. 

“My sister is waiting for me. My friend is taking care of her, but I promised I’d be back today.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Rio moving to sit next to you, in front of the brunette.

“What were you doing in the woods?” The one named Agatha asks and this is the first time she looks at you without a side smile, you feel chastised, as if being in the forest wasn’t something you should do.

“I was hunting.” You couldn’t look at her, she was still frightening. “You’ve lived here for too long, but there’s word that this woodland is owned by witches.” With your head down, you don’t notice the exchange of glances. “It’s common knowledge in my village. No one dares step foot in here, but I had to come, there is not much merchandise coming from outside and my sister is sick, she needs meat to gather strength.” 

A hand places itself on top of yours and you feel the warmness of it against your numb fingers. “We’ll help you catch something in the morning, but tonight you stay here and let us take care of you.” 

The prospect of it makes your heart clench, it’s been so long since you were looked after by someone. There’s nothing else to say, so you just observe as she continues her way to one of the rooms. 

“And you two.” She turns around to amend, the other women at the table look at her. “Behave yourselves.” Without waiting for a response, she continues her walk, robes fluttering behind her.

“Relax, Lilia.” Agatha shouts, by your side you see a toothy grin forming on Rio’s face. 

Circling the mug and bringing it to your lips, you let out a moan at the taste, it was sweet and spicy in a perfect combination, you’d have to ask for the recipe later. It takes you a second to notice, but the women in front of you have gone silent and now look at you, shifting under the weight of observation, you ask in a conversational tone.

“So, are you sisters?”

Agatha lets out a snort at the question and Rio looks down, hiding an amused smirk. 

“No, we are not sisters.” And the way the brunette says it brings a red tint to your face, you couldn’t put a name to it, but there was an implication there.

“Tell us about your little walk in the forest today.” The one in the green cloak says. 

“Oh, um…” The strange request catches you off guard. “There wasn’t much, in fact, it felt like I was walking in a circle for hours and I didn’t see a single animal. To be honest, I’m not sure I would have made it back to the village if I hadn't found you. I was stupid enough to distance myself from the Witches’ Road to the point of no return.” 

“The Witches’ Road?” The brunette raises an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, it’s the path that crosses the forest all the way to the other side. Its leaves stuck to the ground through every season, everlasting green.” Nodding, you take one more sip of the beverage, stifling a groan this time.

“And what else do they say about this Road?” Agatha leads the conversation and Rio focuses on you, watching your every word and playing with a knife you hadn’t noticed before and that, somehow, still doesn’t make you afraid of her. 

“Well, when I was a child there was a man brave enough to enter this wood. He never returned and the elders told me it was a common occurrence, no one ever came back from the path.” Agatha hums and you continue. “It’s astounding how you’ve never heard of any of this, actually, it’s even more so how you’ve lived here all these years.” 

“And this man you met as a child, can you remember his intention when he entered the Road?” The one dressed in purple asks, ignoring your previous statement.

“It’s hard not to, he bragged all around the village how he would rid us of the witches and conquer the woodland.” They both groan. 

“The forest doesn’t like ill intended people.” Rio tells you nodding, and, for some reason, you nod alongside her. 

“Men.” Agatha snarls beside you and you turn to her wide eyed, she could lose her tongue for that. “How about you, hun? Do you have someone special in your life?”

Her entire demeanor changes and she leans closer to you, your hand snaps back when you feel the blunt side of Rio’s knife graze your skin. They both close in on you and you feel your cheeks burn all the way down to your chest. 

“I- No, I don’t.” You stammer. 

The cold disappears and all you can feel is a growing heat on your body. Agatha lets an agreeing sound from the back of her throat, her fingers go to your hair and start running through the strands. 

“And are you saving yourself for marriage?” 

She tries to make it sound like an innocent inquiry, her brown eyes staring you down.

“Ignore her.” Your head snaps to the side, your savior comes to rescue you from Agatha’s clutches for a second time tonight. “Come on, doll. Your bath is ready.” 

And just like before, her smooth voice makes you move without a second thought, reaching for her outstretched hand. She leads you into a candlelit room, a fireplace adds to the yellow light and beside it a wooden tub is filled with hot water, the tendrils of smoke reflecting against the flames. 

“I left a change of clothes for you on the chair, take as long as you need.”

You can only nod, dumbfounded by the beautiful woman in front of you. In her own way, she makes you as nervous as the other two. She squeezes your hands and gives you a reassuring smile before leaving and closing the door behind her. 

Away from them, you feel the heat leave your body and you shiver as you remove your wet garments. It has been so long since you have taken a bath, your responsibilities combined with the weather weren’t great allies in cleaning habits, so when you lower yourself down into the tub, an inevitable groan leaves your lips. 

Scrubbing the days old dirt from your skin, you worry about your sister, you know she is in capable hands, but the knowledge of leaving her alone clings to your heart. The hunt was a waste of energy you didn’t have and if it weren’t for these unknown women, you’d have been long dead, frozen corpse left for the wolves. 

The thought of the three causes a flutter in your stomach and you press your hand against it, this wouldn’t do. They were driving you crazy and this rush of feelings was something you had only felt a long time ago, suppressed and unknown until this day. They might actually be witches, there was something so hypnotizing about them, you felt trapped in their spell and your carefully crafted walls crumbled in a minute inside the cottage, you don’t even know where your shotgun is anymore. 

Although their ways and appearances were contrary to everything you had heard about those demons, they were all breathtaking in their own way, there wasn’t a single trace of black fingers, big noses or baldness, and they were been kinder than anyone has been to you in years, there’s no fundament in believing they are those wicked creatures.

You take a long time in the bath, the relaxing atmosphere makes you melt, your bones ache from fatigue, your stomach has been growling incessantly for days and your eyes feel heavy like you are about to pass out, but the warm water still brings you comfort. 

Getting out of the bath takes a lot of effort, but the temperature drops and you are forced to move. Putting the soft robe around yourself keeps the cold away, the garment is warm and smells like lilies. Your skin is rubbed raw and your hair is wet, you feel renewed, the only thing missing is a hot meal and a full night’s sleep. 

Leaving the bathhouse and stepping into the living room, you are faced with the women sitting on the two couches facing each other, the fireplace by their side. The whispers stop once you arrive. 

“Feeling better?” Lilia asks. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“You look tired, tulip.” Rio’s head drops sideways as she studies the dark circles under your eyes, the nickname falling naturally from her lips.

“I haven’t slept in a few days.” They exchange glances, an unspoken conversation between them. 

“Come sit down then.” Agatha pats the cushion by her side before getting up. “I’ll warm up a meal for you, hun.”

Taking her place, you find yourself facing Rio with Lilia at your side. The younger woman has changed out of her gown into a green sleepwear, they all seem to have a color palette and it's very endearing. 

“Tell me, my love. Why haven’t you been sleeping?” The question is soft spoken.

“I’ve been taking care of my sister, like I said before, she’s very sick and I have to look out for her as her older sister.” 

“What about your parents?” The one dressed in yellow asks. 

“They died last winter.” You answer simply, not wanting to dwell on the subject. 

“It must have been hard.” The older woman runs her fingers down your arm before grabbing your hand and squeezing it, you stop yourself from leaning into her. 

“It was.” The lump in your throat is swallowed, they didn’t need to see you cry. “How long have you lived here?” Trying to steer the conversation elsewhere, you ask. 

They look at each other and Lilia responds vaguely. “Many, many years.”

“And you’ve never encountered any witches?”

Rio lets out a breathy laugh. “You are set on that, aren’t you?” 

“Well, excuse me if the stories I grew up with seem to be a lie.” She raises an eyebrow at your heated answer. 

She hums and asks, throwing a mischievous side grin at Lilia. “And what are the rumors about these witches?”

“It’s said that they are the devil’s spawn, demons in their nature disguised as women, but not well enough. They can’t blend in with society because they are easily recognised by the lack of hair, the big nostrils and elongated mouths. There is also a tale that they are always wearing gloves, their hands are actually claws and they use it to attack children and eat them alive.” A snort laugh comes from the kitchen. “Their toes are stumps and they have nasty warts across their body.” 

Rio cackles and you jump at the unexpected sound, turning to Lilia, you see her face completely closed. 

“Well, this is outrageous!” She exclaims and you hear Agatha murmur ‘Oh, here we go again’ as she pours food into a bowl. “These stereotypes are unfounded, you said no one ever came back from the Road, right?” She looks at you and you nod rapidly, startled by her unpredicted reaction. “Have they seen these claws and big noses? No, sir. I don’t think they have. Men and their constant need to make up lies about women.” She murmurs the last part under her breath, picking up what you assume is a glass of wine.

Her rant leaves you wary, it sounds more heartfelt than someone who isn't affected by it would say. You back away a little, trying not to let on that you’ve picked up on something you shouldn’t have. Had you fallen right into the wolf's den?

“There you go, hun.” Agatha places the bowl in your hands and goes to sit by Rio’s side. 

You eye the food suspiciously, but the smell is heavenly and your stomach aches with its emptiness, there’s a fight inside you that you won’t win. Blowing the spoon before swallowing the soup, you practically vibrate in pleasure, it’s full of meat and different vegetables and once you’ve got a taste of it you can’t help but to gulp it down, only stopping by Lilia’s voice. 

“Not so fast, doll. An empty stomach is not in favor of sudden change and we wouldn’t want you to be sick.” 

As much as it pains you, she is right. With an absurd effort, you eat slowly, careful of the heat of the food and listening to your body. They fall into an easy conversation and you focus on nothing else but the delicious meal, every now and then letting a groan slip from your lips. 

You almost ask for seconds, but your gut is full and your body is heavy. With your eyelids drooping, you almost let the ceramic slip from your hands before Agatha takes it away. You are ready to pass out on the warm sofa, so when Lilia pats her lap in an invitation, you don’t think twice before laying your head on her thigh, feeling a blanket being thrown over you. 

“Sleep well, doll. You’ll feel much better when you wake up.” She runs her nails through your scalp and you practically pur, snuggling into her. 

The last thought that crosses your mind is that it doesn’t matter if they are witches, if this was your last night, you’d happily die like this.  

Your dreams are strange, it feels like you’re stuck between the stages of being awake and asleep, waking momentarily and unable to distinguish what is reality and what is not. Sometimes you hear their voices, unintelligible conversation, and other times you feel hands running over your body. You hear yourself groan and trash around, Lilia’s fingers are always there, stroking your hair and pulling you back to sleep. 

It seems like hours have passed, or maybe just minutes, you can’t tell. Something wakes you up, your cheeks burn like fire and your body feels feverish, something coils inside you and your core throbs. Laying on your side, you feel the older woman’s nails lightly sliding down your arm and you shiver. For the first time in what feels like forever, you are able to identify their words. 

“There’s no discussion about that.” Lilia says. 

“Oh, don’t be a hypocrite. You are just as interested in her as we are.” Agatha’s voice sounds from the other side of the room, the grey haired woman stays silent. 

“There’s no denying she is meant to be here. Her intentions are pure and she would have left the forest with no problems. However, the wards reacted differently to her, she shouldn't be able to find any of us, and yet she did.” Rio says and your mind tries to put together an unsolvable puzzle. 

“Yes, my love, I know. But there’s nothing we can do, she has a life outside of here, it's bad enough she’s spending the night. She will be lucky if she doesn’t get burned at the stake as soon as she gets back to the village.”

“And you are willing to let that happen?” The one in purple asks. “We thought out of the three of us, you would be more sympathetic to her situation.” 

“What would you have us do, Agatha? Ask her if she wants to move in and bring her sister along. ‘Oh and by the way, we are witches. We hope you don’t mind.’” Lilia scoffs at them. “She doesn't know us, and we don’t know her either. As far as we know, the spell has only weakened over time.”

“Don’t dismiss our magic, Lilia. You know the three of us are powerful enough to cast a spell that lasts a witch’s lifetime.” Rio says seriously. 

Their voices swim around your muffled head, they are senseless and leave you more confused than you already are, you groan and squirm, mumbling.

“Hot.” 

“Yes, baby, I know. It’s a side effect, I’m sorry.” Lilia's attention turns to you, she runs her palm over your forehead and she doesn’t realize you are fully awake this time.

Something doesn’t seem right when she grabs your shoulders and turns you upwards. 

“She’s burning up.” 

The older woman throws the blanket away from your body, her cool hands squeeze down your arms and bring relief. You curl up, a heat grows on your center, radiating all over your figure. Lilia places her fingers on your cheek and you press her palm against it. There aren't a lot of thoughts forming in your brain, but her touch is the only thing bringing you some sort of clarity.

“Goddess Agatha, how strong did you make the potion?” The purple witch sputters and raises her hands in a questioning way.

“She said she hadn’t slept in days, so I figured I’d have to double the ingredients for it to work.”

“That’s not how it works!” Lilia exclaims, clearly irritated by what Agatha has done.

“Well, I didn’t see you volunteering to make it!” She practically yells in defense. 

“All right, you two.” Rio intervenes. “Let me take a look.” 

You feel a presence kneel on the floor beside your head, knuckles are placed on your neck and you moan, leaning into the touch. 

“Yeah, Agatha. You fucked up.” 

“Rio!” “Hey!” The other two exclaim at the same time and she shrugs in response. 

You lift your hand and place it on Lilia’s thigh, she grips it.

“Yes, baby. Tell us what you need.” 

“I am so hot.”

“Do you want us to open a window?” Rio asks next to you.

“I feel like I’m about to burst.” You take a deep breath, ignoring her question in favor of concentrating on your body. “I need- I don’t know what I need, but I’m throbbing.” 

“Throbbing? Throbbing where?” The one in green questions and you miss the silent conversation she has with Lilia. 

Looking into her eyes, you gesture down and run your hand between your thighs, a red hue forming on your face.

“Oh Agatha, what have you done?” She whispers, staring back at you.

Lilia’s head snaps to the side and she says accusingly. 

“Did you do this on purpose?”

“What? No!” Agatha defends herself from across the room, standing up and coming closer to look at you. “What can we do to help, hun?”  

You sit up on the sofa, hair out of place and the warm robe falling off your shoulder. 

“Can you touch me?” Grabbing Rio's hand and placing it on your burning cheeks, you close your eyes. “You feel so cold.” 

There’s no malicious intent behind your words and you completely miss the collective breath they all take in. Lilia takes off her mantle, underneath it she’s wearing a sleepwear and her arms are now bare. 

“Come here, doll.” You crawl closer.

Grabbing your cover, she rolls up your sleeves and takes your arms in her hands, palming them. 

“Thank you.” She feels refreshing.

Agatha places her knuckles on your neck, her eyebrows draw closer and she looks concerned for the first time. She runs them over your collarbones and up your upper back, you moan. 

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” 

“Yes.” You breathe out. 

“I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do.” Lilia says.

“Please.” You look at her and beg. 

She stares at you for a moment, there’s a battle going on inside her head and you can see when she finally resolves it.

“Okay, baby. We’ll help you.” 

You aren’t sure what ‘help’ entails, but as long as they kept the buzzing sensation you felt under your skin, the growing heat and the throbbing at bay, you were happy to do anything. 

Rio grabs your thighs suddenly and you gasp, looking down to see her grinning dirtily, her palms run up your legs and under your robe making you tremble. Agatha sits down next to you, grabs your chin and turns your face towards her. 

She kisses you. 

It’s so unexpected and you can only pull away, wide eyes staring at her. She gives you a reassuring smile, tucking your hair behind your ear before moving closer, giving you just enough time to pull away. You let her place her lips on yours. 

You’ve never been kissed by anyone, marriage was never something on your mind when you had someone to care for, plus the men in your village never interested you. This is different though, you’ve been mesmerized by them from the start. It seems natural to let this happen, whatever ‘this’ is. 

Inexperienced, you let Agatha guide you and set the pace. You have always thought it was going to be an awkward contact, but when her tongue slides along yours, you can’t help but grip the cushing beneath you. You almost miss the hand running over your shoulders, almost , Lilia’s thumbs run through your collarbones and you shiver when she tugs your robe back. It’s a lot. So when Rio’s fingers brush against your hips, you pull away and burrow into the couch, hesitant. 

“Slower, Rio.” 

Lilia tells her and she obeys, resting her head against your thighs and bringing her palms down to your knees, using them as leverage when the older woman motions her forward. 

Their mouths meet halfway. Lilia’s hand drops to your waist and the other one lands in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer. You stare, mouth open and afraid of the bubbling sensation in your core. You jump when Agatha’s chin rests on your shoulder. 

“They are perfect, aren’t they?” She says, humming.

Nodding, you watch as the kiss becomes more heated. The older woman's fingers leave your body and she practically pulls Rio onto her lap. Agatha’s experienced hands undo the knot on your robe and you groan when they land on your hip, the contact helping with the burning beneath your skin. 

The two in front of you separate and Rio leans to whisper something in Lilia’s ear, the older woman grins. The one in green turns to you and gives you a quick peck before kneeling again, you blink at the unexpected move. 

Agatha runs her lips over your skin and you throw your head back, barely registering the hands removing your robe and letting it fall to your lower half. Lilia focuses on the other side of your neck, licking and biting as her nails run down to your chest, caressing the top of your breasts. They are gentle, aware of your hesitance despite your eagerness. 

Rio touches you again, more carefully like the older woman had asked. She massages your heel and calf, moving higher each time. Agatha’s hand lands on your thigh, helping the green witch by parting your legs. Lilia kisses you then, a distraction may be, but one you’re not complaining about. 

As with the purple witch, you let her dominate. The kiss is different, as good as the other one, but still divergent. She places her hand on your hair and runs her nails through it, movements languid while you feel Agatha’s palm grab your breasts and Rio plant upwards pecks.

You moan into Lilia’s mouth when Agatha pinches your nipples, separating to breath. 

“How are you doing, baby?” 

“I- I’m not sure this is helping with the heat.” You respond, running your tongue over your dry lips. 

“Don’t worry, dear. It will.” Agatha whispers in your ear, before biting it softly.

When she draws away from your skin, Lilia pulls her into a kiss of their own. They moan into each other's mouth and you feel like a whore watching them, eyes unmoving. The pause, however, makes you focus on the other woman's touch. Rio runs her tongue over the inside of your things, blowing on it right after. It helps with the hotness of your skin, but your core throbs more and more. 

The other two get lost in themselves for a while and you can only enjoy the sight and the gentle touch on your legs, but when they part, you glance down at Rio and she is looking at you. She circles your legs with her arms and pulls you forward, your backside sliding to the tip of the couch. 

She lifts the part of the robe that hides you from her, spreading your legs even further and staring right at your center. She licks her lips and her eyes look like those of a predator about to eat its favorite meal. 

“Oh, tulip. You open up to me so beautifully.” She says breathlessly. 

She’s about to pounce when Agatha grabs her scalp and pulls her back, getting into her eye level.

“Slow.” She commands seriously before giving her a peck. 

Rio blinks, mind back in place and she nods, turning her attention back to you. 

Lilia’s fingers distract you, she runs them along the lower region of your hip and you feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. Agatha dips back into your skin and sucks on one of your nipples, you moan as her tongue runs over it. The yellow witch licks your neck and leaves hickeys behind, biting into your shoulder. Her hands massages your other mound and she leans in to whispers. 

“Look at Rio. She looks gorgeous between your thighs, don’t you think?” Speechless, you nod vehemently. “Tell her.” 

Lilia sucks on your pulse point and you moan as you lock eyes with the green witch. She looks breathtaking, her hair is disheveled, the back of your knees resting on her shoulders and in the dim light of the room you can see her pupils are dilated, she's panting. 

“You look beautiful, Rio.” 

Your cheeks burn and you are rewarded by the three for your words. Agatha moans against your nipple and grabs hard into your thigh. Rio gives you a mischievous smile and runs her tongue through your sticky skin as Lilia touches your center for the first time, lightly running her fingers over it as you writhe and squirm into her hand. 

“Someone is eager.” Rio laughs at your reaction. 

“I- Please, Rio.” You voice sound hoarse and you are not sure for what you are begging for, but the ache between your legs in getting worse and it feels like the most delicious torture. 

She nuzzles your hip, close to your center and you completely melt when Lilia opens up your folds to Rio. The green witch grins your way, as if she’s just received the permission she’s been waiting for. 

Her tongue darts out and she circles your lower lips, throwing your head back and not knowing what to do with your hands, you grab Lilia’s palm and Agatha’s thigh. The new sensation is overwhelming, you feel the coil that’s been building up for a long time get worse. The almost bursting feeling you felt before comes right back and Rio holds you down when she runs her teeths through your skin.

She makes her way from bottom to top and your hips buck when she bumps into something. It’s weird how wet you are, you feel the slippery friction against Rio’s chin and lips. She blows against you and you whimper. You feel so needy, so empty, so desperate. 

They said they were witches, you heard. So maybe this is some kind of spell.

Lilia’s fingers are still holding you open and Agatha is dividing her attention between your breasts, biting and sucking one while pinching and squeezing the other. The gray-haired woman snuzzles into your neck and holds your waist. 

Rio pulls you closer and you practically fall off the couch, being held only by the other two, she has a manic look in her face and her tongue goes inside you, she moans against your skin. Agatha holds her head, setting the pace and Lilia’s hand moves down to your hips, helping you grind against her face. 

Rio does it like it's her favorite pastime, she moans and growls, running her mouth and chin all over you. She picks up speed and the purple witch lets her, the in and out motion makes your toes curl and your thigh tremble, squeezing her head and digging your heels into her back, pulling her close. 

You hear yourself moaning, the sound is distant, like you are underwater. Grabbing the older woman’s wrist, you let out a whine. The previous heat has turned to sweat, the coil is unbearable and the ache turned into pleasure. Something is building inside you and you don’t know what it is. 

“Rio-” You let out, her mouth is quite busy though. 

“Yes, baby. What is it?” Lilia answers for her. 

Taking a deep breath, you feel your hands shaking and notice Agatha is also looking at you. 

“I- Something is happening.” Not being able to describe, you say in the hope that they understand. 

“Yes, honey. Relax and let it happen.” Agatha kisses your cheek and you pull her in for a real one, taking initiative for the first time. 

The kiss is more heated than before, you groan and your hips buck, her hand is still in Rio’s hair and the green witch continues without stopping, you are not sure how she’s breathing. There is something growing inside you, a tension building in your body right from your center and you feel ready to tip over, but something stops you, as if it’s missing.

Lilia is the one that gives it to you. While Agatha’s lips are on yours and Rio’s tongue is making you trash, her fingers run down and press against your bud, moving in circular motion. There’s a moment where you see stars, your vision goes white and you are sure you are dead, maybe this was the outcome of the witches’ spell. 

And then you are back. Body tense, back arched and hips moving unstoppably. You grab at anything around you and throw your head back, mouth open and mute. The peak overtakes you and you crash down hard, thighs shaking as you slump back onto the couch. 

Rio climbs up, tongue making a path on your skin before she kisses you. Grabbing into her shoulder, you pull her closer and thread your fingers into her hair, groaning and pulling away quickly to breath, you are still panting from the exertion. 

“Come here, I want to taste her.” Agatha says by your side and grabs the green witch’s head.

You watch them kiss, they are beautiful, they all are. The heated make out results in the same unnamable feeling coursing through your body, you are grateful for the distraction when Lilia places her knuckles into your sweaty forehead. 

Leaning into her touch, you rest your head on her shoulder. 

“How are you feeling, doll?” 

“Better.” You hum.