The detective takes one look out through the kitchen window and she realizes it's go time.

She didn't know how long this nice weather that the weather network boasted about would last so in hindsight, she had taken out two steaks to barbecue and even picked up a four pack of corn, even though they were out of season.

False spring was a rare thing in Westview and by the looks of it, Agnes was even pushing for false summer. She opened up the fridge and took out the steaks she had left in there overnight to defrost as well as the pack of corn. Balancing it in one hand, she grabbed two beers with her other.

Thankfully you had left the door to the backyard open so Agnes only had to push her way through the screen door.

You heard her sigh loudly at the weather as she stepped into the sunlight; her faded band tee looking extra worn. You swore you could see right through it.

Maybe that wasn't totally a bad thing.

You were out in the middle of the law in one of your folding camping chairs. One of Agnes' muscle shirts you had stolen and a pair of cut-off jeans had been your outfit of choice to soak up some sun. Despite the sunglasses that perched on your nose, you knew Agnes could tell that you were staring at her. It was kind of hard not to when the chair was facing the opposite way and you had to turn your head in her direction.

You watched her as she put the food down and opened up the grill. Fiddling with dials and trying to rip open the packages of steak with her teeth. You couldn't help but to huff away a laugh. Sometimes she was a total bonehead and all in all, it made you want her more.

"Who's winning over there, Babe? You or the steaks?"

You shout from your seat as a full smile blooms across your face. You give her a cute little wave as you put your left leg over your right. Agnes looks in your direction and rolls her eyes as she spits away a chunk of plastic she had managed to tear off. With the grill ready and warmed up, Agnes throws the steaks on. She watches them sizzle away for a little bit before she closes the lid. Turning her head slightly to her side, barely looking over her shoulder she calls back to you,

"You just sit over there and look pretty!"

She can hear you laugh at her response. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she picks up the beer she had brought out, one in each hand, and makes her way over to you with her right arm slightly extended in front of her. Your own hand comes out to take the cold beer from Agnes. You make sure that as you do so, your fingers graze over hers.

"Thanks, Handsome..."

She watches as you pop down the cap on the armrest of the chair and bring the bottle to your lips. She can't see your eyes through your sunglasses but you can most definitely peer into Agnes'. She would basically be salivating if her mouth wasn't closed; lips pulled in a tight pout.

You wanted to bite her bottom lip so badly whenever she did that.

"Cat got your tongue, Detective?"

You test her as you hold your beer, wrist rolling slightly, slowly. You uncross your legs and bring up your left leg. Foot pointed towards her until you move your ankle to make your foot flat against the air.

You press it against her crotch and watch in real time as all the air in her lungs comes out. You see the twitch of her fingers as she almost drops her bottle but catches herself; rolls her shoulders back. Her free hand comes down to grab a hold of your sandal. She doesn't push herself away or press herself in. Accepting her fate, she licks her lips before responding,

"Nope. My tongue is pretty free to use right now..."

"Is that so?"

Agnes tilts her head to the side as she thinks. She gives you a small smile, no teeth. You can tell she's debating hard on what to do next.

"Pretty sure all the neighbors are out in their backyards right now..."

You scoff instantly as you take another swig of your drink. Nodding your head as you pull it away from your lips, your words fall from your mouth,

"As if they haven't seen and heard everything already, O'Connor."

You watch as the detective continues to crumble right before you. The slow movements as she surrenders. She hands you over her beer and you pull your foot away. Watching her as she slowly lowers until she's kneeling before you and the chair, it's your turn to hold your breath.

"You know I won't be able to hold onto our drinks...I'm going to need to grab at your hair."

Agnes shakes her head and closes her eyes and allows her mind to wander to the mental image of that; the way you find the base of her ponytail and pull. Of course she wants that; always does when it comes to you.

"Here, give me those then..."

Her hands come up to take the bottles away from you. She moves them away from her, at her side as she tips them upside down to drain them. She lets the bottles fall to the grass.

While she was busy with that, your hands had moved quickly to undo the button of your shorts; pull down the zipper along with it. You push your lower body a little forward as you sink in your chair.

You want this fast and quick, no time to work you up to a desire you can no longer contain.

Low on her knees, Agnes spots the way your shorts hang open around your hips. She literally lips her licks as her hands move forward to grab the edge of the seat. The back of her hands brushing against the sides of your thighs.

"Come here, Baby..."

The detective lets go of the chair as she moves her hands up your thigh to get to the waist of your shorts. She doesn't have to do much to peel them away from you; exposing a little bit more of the black lace underwear underneath the denim. She sucks in her breath as her finger hooks underneath the elastic. The knuckles of her fingers brushing against your warm skin and tickled by your hair. You suck in a deep breath and quickly look around.

None of your neighbors, as you could see, were at their windows or peering through the slits in the fence.

She hooks it as far as she can in this position, in this angle. You try to help her as you move your hips; slightly lift up from the seat. Agnes' fingers graze across your folds as she pulls away a little further before her head is bowed and before you can realize it, her lips are pressed against you.

Your body turns rigid at the impact and you want to bend your knees and curl them up into your chest but Agnes is planted right between them. Solid and heavy as ever; there's no way she would move an inch. Roots planted deep, she wasn't going to move anytime soon until you were both satisfied.

What else could you do now but reach out for her? Hands falling on top of her head and the messy bed of hair pulled back into an even messier ponytail. You find that elastic that barely holds it contained and wrap her hair around your hand. One twist and then a half. You give it a yank and Agnes literally snarls against you as she pushes her nose deeper.

Your body moves before your brain does as you grind your hips towards Agnes' face. You want her as deep as you can; egging her to do so. You feel her breath against you; in and out. Taking in your scent, catching her breath. Agnes moves down just a little and you feel the wet of her tongue.

"Oh...god..."

The laps are slow and precise; moving in between your folds and up towards your clit. You can feel yourself throb each time Agnes' tongue passes over the bundle of nerves and you pray to god she can feel it. She only teases to dip the tip of her tongue deep inside of you; too busy still licking you up.

"Please," you find yourself begging under your breath as you pull her hair just a little tighter, "Agnes, please..."

You swear you hear her grunt under her breath as she dips down again; the slowest drag path from your clit down. You shudder against the chair despite the heat of the day; your skin feeling prickly with sweat.

Agnes' tongue breaches your opening; tastes you. You're already soaked and can feel Agnes' chin wet against the curve of your body as she pushes deeper.

Your sigh is loud; shaky. Your upper body writhes in pleasure and your brow knits close. You have to remind yourself to breathe, to take it easy. Opening your eyes slowly, you turn your head towards the house.

"Oh fuck!"

Your hand lets go of Agnes' ponytail as you try to push your body up in the chair. Agnes quickly pulls away and looks love drunk. The evidence all over her face; lips and chin and the tip of her nose wet.

She follows the direction you're looking and realizes what has spooked you.

Black smoke, thick and billowing fast from the barbecue.

"Well fuck me!" Agnes pushes herself up from the lawn; wobbly on her legs as she moves quickly across the lawn. You're left in your seat, uncomfortably wet with your shorts and underwear pulled down. The warm summer breeze makes you shiver as you feel the wetness on your skin.

Agnes opens up the lid and pokes at the steaks with her tongs. You hear her curse again and watch as she shakes her head. She closes the lid with a bang and turns to face you.

"We can always just go and get a burger, Babe..."

You hear her laugh as she nods her head at your suggestion before shaking it. How the hell had she forgotten the steaks burning away on the grill?

"Do you even know how long it took me to convince her to come out of the house to finally meet all of you guys?"

Agnes snorts through her nose at your confession as her tongue and teeth and lips roll the toothpick from left to right. She had no choice but to sit across from you as your friends all slid into the booth. Agnes had wanted nothing more than to be right beside you tonight with her heavy yet sturdy hand placed possessively on the top of your thigh.

Now, she had to settle for across the table with a wet toothpick between her teeth just to keep herself satiated.

The table had burst into small chatter and laughter at your words until it settled down and waited for Agnes to give her side of the story. You look across the table at your girlfriend and raise your eyebrows at her, egging her on silently.

The detective plucks the toothpick from her mouth just to speak; just to seem as someone with some form of manners. She clears her throat and moves her gaze around the table quickly so none of your friends feel left out in her explanation,

"You know how detective work is...I can never find the right time to slip away and hang out at bars."

Your friends laugh and chatter again, heads nodding at the hardships of work and having an ounce of alone time. Agnes feels satisfied with her answer and lifts the toothpick back up to bite back down once more. The wet and soft wood feels pulpy against her chapped lips. Her gaze finds yours and the two of you share a glance that's neither hostile nor friendly. Just a matter of fact.

Work sucks and I don't really like meeting new people but I love you and these are your friends so here I am now, trying to keep myself friendly as I keep my mouth occupied.

"Shit...sorry..."

Agnes blurts out as the toothpick falls from her mouth as her hands come up to pat the pockets of her jacket pocket. No lighter, no cigarettes. She swears under her breath as she looks up, defeated in every sense of the word. One of your friends a person down from you catches Agnes' frantic movement that's something is missing,

"Do you need a smoke? A light?"

The table drops to a lull; eavesdropping in on Agnes. Your friends had been curious about your girlfriend for a long time and mere phone calls and text messages weren't enough to fill their curiosity about the older woman you had been dating. She had come across as mysterious and your relationship wasn't something flaunted in most places. You felt generous whenever you shared a picture of yourself with Agnes to your friend groups text chain.

And of course, it was never because you were embarrassed of what you had with her. It was far from that. You two were so good you didn't want anyone else to cause any inch of strain between you both. Luck was besides the point; you felt like you had won the lottery when it came to Agnes O'Connor.

Agnes places her hands on top of the table and shakes her head, shrugs her shoulders as if she was bringing upon a huge inconvenience onto your friend. She picks up the toothpick that fell and puts it into her empty glass; her jaw rolling as she tries to massage out the muscle,

"Nah...trying to quit actually...it fucking sucks."

Your friend laughs as they still reach into their pocket however, taking out a pack of gum instead. They hand over Agnes a stick and watch as she folds back the silver wrapped before popping the white strip past her lips. A quick comment about smoking and how much of a bitch it's been to stop comes up and Agnes just nods along and focuses on the gum between her teeth.

You've been watching this interaction all the while as you take another slow sip of your drink. You're mesmerized by the way Agnes' jaw moves; how the muscles flex not only on her cheek but at her neck as well. Tensing and relaxing, you can tell she's slightly on edge but not overly uncomfortable. She doesn't like meeting new people, never mind a whole group of them.

"So, any gory cases you're working on, detective?"

Another one of your friends chimes up as she takes a bite of her fries you had all gotten to share. Her eyes are wide with interest, one hand holding up under her chin as she stares in Agnes' direction. You watch as your girlfriend starts chewing just a little harder on her gum; the cogs working behind her eyes as she tries to separate what she can and cannot say about her job.

"Uh...mostly just, missing cases is what they got me doing. I have a knack for finding people, I guess..."

"Just like you found our girl here!"

The table erupts in cheering and hollering; a whistle is even thrown in for good measure and you watch as the blush creeps up from Agnes' neck to her tensed cheeks. The gum chewing starts up even faster, harder.

You interject to help Agnes out; knowing this had already been a feat for her to come here. You had been asking her for months to come out and meet your friends. You knew how hard it was for her to deal with her own personal things; fears and shame and guilt that crept up on her even when it wasn't deep in the night. The horrors of the day ate away at her just as much.

But, to your surprise, last week when you had asked her to come out with you and all of your friends she had said yes. You didn't know what the change was or why, but you had noticed that she had been a little bit more protective over you within that week. And although Agnes always had good manners around you, she had been acting just a little more chivalrous.

Which was, in its own right, almost crazy because it was one of the reasons you had fallen for her the moment you had interacted with her many months ago.

'Alright, alright! Who wants another round?"

Your friends chimed in with their orders on top of another request for another basket of fries. Shuffling down the booth, your friends let you out so you can make your way over to the bar.

You felt it before you even saw it that Agnes had signaled her release as well as she made your friends slide down the forever-sticky vinyl so she could follow right behind you. She sidled up just as quickly as you both leaned against the bar top; Agnes' left hand pressed flat against the small of your back as she stood behind you so closely you could feel her breath on the back of your neck,

"I don't think your friends like me."

You laugh as the waiter comes up and you rattle off the table's order plus the extra basket of fries. He turns away and the second he does, you turn your head ever so slightly so Agnes can hear you,

"Why do you think that, Babe?"

You see from the corner of your eye as she shrugs but the hand on your lower back doesn't read off as fear. She's very, very not afraid or intimated by this.

You bet, in this moment, your table of friends are watching you both and eyeing the way Agnes' hand seems to dip lower with each second.

"I'm not really giving them any clear answers to their questions...they're gonna think I'm just some mysterious dyke that keeps you at home all the time."

You laugh again but this time fall back against her chest; feel her breathing and the softness of her breasts against your spine. You know she has that wad of gum pressed into the top of her back molars.

"Maybe you just gotta keep showing them what you mean instead of telling them who you are..."

And with that, you purposefully press just a little harder into her and confirm, despite having a sinking suspicion, that your girlfriend had indeed packed tonight. Both her armor and her libido were up.

The detective didn't respond except for a deep grunt and a playful squeeze of your ass before her hand came up to help you carry the drinks and fries back to the table. Agnes could feel everyone's eyes on her; more than they were on you. She had been the one to initiate contact in a public space; wandering hands and body language that easily bordered on sexual.

Your group of friends slide down to allow you both to take your new seats on the edges of the booth, still across from one another. The drinks are all passed around and the basket of steaming french fries is placed in the middle of the cluttered table. You settle in with your drink which is purposefully topped off with a maraschino cherry, stem and all.

Agnes grabs a napkin with one hand to spit out her gum while her other grabs at her fresh bottle of beer. The napkin is wadded up and left alone so she can bring her bottle up to her lips and tip it back.

You watch Agnes with all the intensity in the world; the way the tip of her tongue pokes out into the opening of the bottle before it pulls back to allow her lips to do most of the work.

You catch her eye just over the glass as it slowly comes back down and the ale inside sloshes around; foam and bubbles appearing and disappearing by the jerky movements.

"Agnes has a hidden talent she just loves showing off in bars..."

Your words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them and the rest of the table goes quiet, save for the sipping on drinks. You watch as Agnes white-knuckles her beer and shoots you an amused look before laughing against the rim, her lips finding the glass once more as she takes another pull of her drink.

The table waits for some sort of explanation from either of you.

So you take the plunge as you dip your pointer and thumb into your glass to retrieve the cherry.

You hold it out before you like a prize; something honored in dive bars that only a select few have the honor of obtaining.

"She can tie a knot with the stem just by using her tongue."

The beer sloshes from Agnes' bottle into her mouth just a little too quickly and she's left with trying to hold in a cough.

The table waits with anticipation as Agnes, slowly puts down her drink and gently pushes it out of her own way on the table to rest her forearms down instead.

The two of you are at a standoff; all eyes and quirks of the lip that tug to the right or left. No words are spoken but you can tell Agnes keeps squirming in her seat. You wonder what those mental gymnastics look like inside of her head.

Agnes wonders what it would look like if her tongue was able to tie knots elsewhere; fuck a damn garnish on an overpriced drink.

"I think I'm gonna need a smoke before I attempt that one...care to join me?"

The table lets go of their held breaths for sighs of disappointment. It was too good to be true to find out that this mysterious woman was not also a detective, but a bar magician in her own right.

Agnes slinks from the seat until she's up on her feet again, hands shoved into the pocket of her jacket. She hadn't taken it off, you now notice, a flighty little thing. You stand up to join her with the cherry still in between your fingers; not bothering to look back at the table of your friends as Agnes waits for you to fall in step beside her before she puts her left hand onto the small of your back once more to lead you out of the packed bar.

Agnes does more than guide you out through the door; pushing you as if she was literally dragging you out into the cold night. Winter was slow to leave but the promise of Spring was bound to break any day now, or, so everyone kept saying.

She walks you both to her truck; parked a little off-ways from the main parking spots in front of the bar. Easier to get in and much easier to leave. The detective basically pushes you towards the car door before reaching for you to take the goddamn cherry from your fingers.

"You want me to tie knots?"

"No, I want you to put that mouth of yours to good use."

The slow realization that comes over her face is almost as good as what's about to come. Those blue eyes going dark as the gears start to turn once more behind them. You watch with your mouth slightly ajar; eyes on the cherry between her fingers now.

Agnes pops it into her mouth without a word and starts to chew. Her eyes are a little bit wider as if showing you, telling you to watch her. She's meeting your challenge with ease. Determination held on her face as her hands came up to rest on her hips; left foot jutted out to keep her stance strong.

You want to fucking jump her and your fingers itch with restraint.

Agnes' left hand comes up to her mouth with her finger and thumb at the ready as they press against her lips. She puckers them until she pushes out the stem past her teeth, her lips. She keeps the stem pinched between her fingers as if she's afraid to drop her proof.

She holds it out for you to see.

A perfect double knot.

"Now, do you mind if I open the door for you, lay my jacket down and fuck you before we go back in there?"

You feel butterflies in your stomach and a heat creep both up your face and down between your legs at her words. You nod as if you're already drunk; head heavy as you slide out of the way so Agnes can open the back door for you. She steps in front of you so she can peel off her jacket, her blue flannel illuminated by the lights in the parking lot. You stare at her without another word and watch as she ducks in to spread out her jacket on the back seat.

She comes back out from the car and stands beside you, a cigarette hanging off of her lips and lighter in her left hand that she must have grabbed from the back seat. She lights up and inhales and you watch with anxiousness as she takes her time.

You want nothing more than to be climbing all over her.

"You can get in if it's too cold out here...warm up before I do,"

She blows out a puff of smoke before flicking her ashes onto the asphalt below. Her eyes are trained on you as she watches you intently; almost as if she's trying to pinpoint the right place to strike.

You shake your head and lean against the car; arms crossed over your chest,

"No I...I like watching you...your mouth, your neck..."

Agnes smirks as she takes another drag until she gets down to nothing more than a butt. She drops it straight down and stomps it out with her heavy construction boots.

The action signifies your invitation into the backseat of the car with Agnes hot on your heels. You hear the door slam behind you both.

"Thanks, Handsome..."

The name drops as you do, forearms to hold up your chest and head as you watch Agnes climb onto the seat and settle on her knees between your legs. Her eyes are hooded and dark and all you can focus on is the way she smells like cold air and cigarette smoke and that lingering pine scent you've always known her to have.

It makes your stomach flop with excitement.

Agnes bows down between you and you see the tick in her jaw before her face is out of sight for a moment or two. You feel a tug on your jeans; the belt loop being pulled downwards and when you dip your head to look, you see the glint of white in the dark.

Agnes is trying to get your pants off with nothing more than just her teeth.

The moan that leaves your lips is unholy; made to be used as audio in a porno. You can't help yourself when it comes to Agnes, never had been. Everything that was once reserved in you was very quickly expunged; wrung dry by her passion and devotion. Determination seemed to win every time as Agnes, with very little help from her hands, got your pants down just enough for her mouth to leave the denim in exchange for the elastic waistband of your underwear.

You felt her teeth graze your stomach which only pulled out another moan from your lips and a quick reflex of your hands shooting down to grab her hair; wrapping around her ponytail.

Agnes' chin presses against you as does her nose, dragging down your underwear until it sits in the well of your bunched up jeans at the middle of your thighs. You hear her breathe in deeply and suddenly you're very aware of the cold that seeps into her truck despite her warm jacket beneath you.

"Are you cold, Sweetheart? You'll be warmed up in no time..."

Her head dips low before you even get the chance to speak; her mouth already opened wide to take you in. She breathes heavily out through her nose as her tongue starts from the bottom up, licking through your already damp folds until she hits your clit. You jerk against the seat and tug on her hair a little tighter; legs wrapping instinctively around her. You hear Agnes laugh between your legs.

The detective laps you up slow and steady and all you can think of is the way the tip of her tongue slipped into the opening of her beer. It reminded you of a snake and with the way Agnes was coiled in between your legs, it wasn't that far off.

Your desperate pleas don't seem to reach her as she keeps up her pace with a gradual increase until her tongue slips into you; lapping at what she can from the restrictions she's simply been given due to being physically hindered. Your breathing is raged as you try to hold on to her; legs squeezed tighter around her at the sides of her head.

Agnes quickly gets you to a place where you can no longer hold on.

Back arching up from her jacket, from the seat underneath you, your body holds tense before muscles start to spasm involuntarily. Your body fully releases and you can feel Agnes' tongue and lips working overtime as she tries to lick and suck up every last drop from you.

You want so desperately to see the shine that coats her mouth and chin; the bottom of her nose.

And you do, as she rises up from between your legs and gives you a look that would only have chased her after hammering back more beers than she had in the bar. Love drunk and satiated.

For now.

You can't deny the look you see on her face however as that tick in her cheek comes back and the muscles in her neck tense once more.

"Stay right there, just like that, pretty boy..."

You just barely manage those words out as you push yourself up to a seated position. Agnes hangs back and watches you with curiosity and without care to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. You relish in the way she looks just for a moment, not wanting to make your girlfriend wait any second longer.

You're both on your knees, facing one another. A second or two passes as you both catch your breaths before your hands come forward to pop the button of Agnes' jeans; fingers taking the zipper to pull it down.

Her face crumbles and you know she's been waiting for this.

Your hand slips in past the waistband of her boxers to feel the silicone that sits between her legs before taking it out. You smile and she sees it, groaning in response as her hand ever so slightly comes forward to hold the back of your head. Guiding you just like she did out of the bar and into the backseat.

Guiding you towards her pleasure she still can't find the words to ask for.

Your mouth finds her just like hers did to you; taking Agnes in past your lips and into your throat. You look up at her the best you can with determination blazing in your eyes and the detective can only look down at you with that delicious expression of lust scattered over her face. The deep wrinkle between her eyebrows is heavyset as she focuses on the sensation you so lovingly give her.

You find it easy, just as Agnes does, to find this moment between you just as real as it was when Agnes was down between your legs. You know she can feel everything you do; every suck and every lick. You know Agnes doesn't see this toy as just that but a true extension of herself. You go as deep to feel your nose brush against the harness and the wild curls that escape from behind.

Agnes' hips drop and her hands let up from behind your head as she lets out a long and steady exhale; not unlike the cigarette smoke that had pushed out from her lungs and into the cold air.

Your breathing falls to normal as you pull away from Agnes; the extension of her leaving your lips with a strong line of spit to still keep you connected before it breaks and falls down onto her jacket. You take a second or two to roll your jaw and flex your tongue but that moment of recovery is broken by the chase of Agnes' lips pressed to yours with a hunger you had thought she would only have previous to all of this.

You wonder, as Agnes' tongue battles with yours, where the cherry stem went.

You wonder, as Agnes moans deep and low into your mouth as her hands reach and slide up under your shirt, if there would be proof enough on your body to show your friends that yes, Detective Agnes O'Connor does know how to tie a cherry stem with only her tongue.

She had worn many rings in her lifetime.

Some were more extravagant than others; some were merely hastened by twine tied around her finger with a promise.

It had never been about the ring.

All these women that have come and gone through her lifetime; some nothing more than a snatch at their youth had all wanted the same thing.

Love.

And love was even what they wanted when she was still young and not seeking out the youth of her lovers. It was easy enough to give as she wound her way through their hearts and minds and took over in any which way she could.

They had all fallen under her spell and her seduction.

Most of these women believed they were nothing more than close female friends until she would bat her eyes and lay a gentle hand on someone's arm or thigh, the small of their back as they walked through the swampy meadow.

Stolen kisses at dusk and the promise of a connection they would never feel ever again in their life. Surely, she would laugh, not by any man.

These women fell for her and fell hard until they couldn’t live without her. They would promise her to take her away from this cabin in the swamp and make her life comfortable, all the while hiding their relationship away as nothing more than close friends.

She would remind them, with her head bowed between their legs, that no one would believe them to be anything but just friends.

Eventually, these women would come to realize that the swamp was the perfect location to remain hidden away from the rest of the world. No one here would criticize or ostracize them. No one would be banging on their door at night and dragging them out of their beds and hanging them in the village square for conducting unlawful acts between two sexes.

The swamp was safe for many reasons but for Gothel, it was where no one would hear or suspect a thing.

Wound up in their obsession for her, she would strike quickly and hard. One moment her lover would be sound asleep in their bed and the next, she would be chained to the foot of the bed with her mind close to empty. All that knowledge and all that power and the thing that made these women unique were shoveled out and poured into Gothel so she could remain on top.

Untouchable. Powerful.

The more women she lured and the longer she held them in contempt; got to know them for who they were outside of magical beings, the easier it was for her to pull this scheme over and over again.

And these poor women, these poor victims, didn’t know any the wiser because they were far too gone by corruption under Gothel’s magic. One witch easily outsmarting another for her own personal gains.

Day in and day out she would practice her magic and come to know herself. Stealing what she could to keep herself strong and alert. Draining the women both mentally and sexually until all that was left to snatch from them was their power. She did this without remorse and let their empty bodies slip away into the depths of the swamp.

No one ever came looking for them.

No one knew where to start.

Her home had been deep in the woods; beyond the beautiful tree lines. No one would come that way unless hunters chased a deer so deep into the wood that they had gotten turned around and lost. She would watch them from a distance and wanted nothing to do with the men that trampled near her land.

Years would pass and she would see no one; having talked to no soul for weeks on end in between luring her next victim to her home.

It wasn’t until she realized that there was still so much to learn; magic and power to gain that she needed a constant remedy to keep herself young and alive and ultimately, beautiful.

She hadn’t always been vain; wanting her magic more than her beauty. When it came to killing other witches and draining them of their magic, gaining youth came with the territory.

She had embraced it as nothing more than a side effect.

However, as the years went on and her power grew and her youth remained, she had come to notice the vast stretches of lovers in between from the last one.

There was only one explanation she could muster: women were not as easily tricked as they had been years ago.

So she changed her game and her strategy. She allowed herself to appear a little bit older.

Maybe then, she would be more trusting to women a little younger than herself and definitely more trusting to women her senior.

It was a new scheme, a new plot. It was working more and more in her favor and then, a princess had been born.

And that new scheme and new plot had set her back 18 years.

It seemed that the old ways were her best bet; a sure bet.

She had stepped back out into the world, on her way to the cabin she had left abandoned 18 years ago and instead of stumbling upon her swampland, she had found two farms back to back of one another.

She had walked right into you.

—

She looks back over her shoulder at you and the image almost drives you wild. Her long, curly black hair falls over her face and shoulder like a cloak; mysterious even though you’ve seen the inside of her soul. Her face, once calm, is now pinched in a snapshot of pleasure.

She’s putting on a rather elaborate show for you as she arches her back and continues to hold eye contact. You don’t dare look away from her as you lounge back onto her bed. When she has finally given you an inch of your power back, mostly to give you some energy so that you could join her, she has given you a bit more leeway in the tower.

One day you had gone from sleeping on that hard, wooden floor to sleeping in her canopy bed with all the lush pillows and blankets.

You didn’t even have this extravagance back at your farm and were surprised to find it in an otherwise abandoned tower.

But you knew Gothel to be extravagant and vain; shown in both the way she carried herself and her personal space. Her room looked like it was taken from the palace. Where you had slept on the floor looked almost identical to the poor farmhouses you had grown up around and in.

She was moving now with much fervor; her lower body guiding herself against the pillow she had wedged between her legs. You couldn’t look away from her. You didn’t dare.

You took in every single inch of her and were mesmerized by her body. She was not only beautiful but carried her age well. Soft skin that seemed to dimple in places where it sagged naturally from age. Creases and wrinkles and stretch marks you almost couldn’t see if it wasn’t for the lighting. Her legs were toned but the rest of her body remained soft with very little muscle. You could just make out the curve of her breast as it hung; the swoop of her lower back aided in this.

You wanted nothing more than to come up from behind her and slot your body against hers in that perfect well; the round of her ass fitting right up against your crotch. You could almost feel her heat as she backed into you.

But you remain where she’s asked you to lay. You remain as a casual observer as she grinds down into the soft friction on one of her velvet pillows.

She catches you staring not into her eyes but at her body and to pull you back so that your full attention is on her, she straightens herself up so that she’s sitting on her knees with a straight back. Her hair falls down her back and you can barely see her face now but the sound she makes is enough for your thighs to clench.

She moans your name for the first time in her true form.

It sounds exactly like how your fiancée would moan it on the brink of orgasm.

Your heart catches in your throat as you watch her now rock her hips faster. The muscles in her ass and thighs contract and then relax over and over again as she grinds down harder, deeper. You can see her left arm move inwards and closer to her body and the dip of her hand as it snakes lazily between her legs, shoved between the pillow.

You push yourself up from your position and very slowly crawl across the bed, headed towards her. She doesn’t pay you any mind as she keeps going. Her head is ever so slightly hung back and you can see that her eyes fight to remain open. Her mouth is open with no sounds coming from it. She’s so caught up in chasing her pleasure that for once, she is not fully aware of her surroundings.

If you were a smart woman, you would use this opportunity to escape.

You, however, inch closer until you’re just ever so slightly off to the side of her body. You take in the curvature of her neck and the weight of her breasts with her rosy-pink erect nipples. Downwards to the concave just under her ribs and then once more to the soft swell of her lower abdomen. You wonder if she thinks of your body this way.

You wonder if she remembers how you loved the body she had inhabited to trick you.

You wonder, as you bring your right hand up to scoop underneath her left breast to bring her nipple into your mouth, if she loves your body now after she’s drained it of everything that had made you important to her in the first place.

Her head tilts forwards and her eyes slowly open to watch you suckle on her breast. She doesn’t ease up in her rocking against the pillow or fingering her clit until it feels nothing more than a numb bundle of overworked nerves.

She pants loudly as her eyebrows knit together in concentration and you can’t help to moan against her skin; the nipple pressed hard against your tongue and the roof of your mouth.

It had all been a lie.

A deep, constructed lie and no one was the wiser because Gothel was a very powerful witch.

You can feel her beside you as she lays on the wooden floor. Her right hand is placed on your waist and you feel yourself move with her as you fall onto your back. She climbs her way up on top of you as she sits; her dress bunches and rises up on her thighs. That long, curly hair of hers falls into her eyes and down to touch your face as she bends herself closer.

You can feel her lips just inches from your own.

It had been nothing but a beautiful, terrible lie.

Her lips press against yours and you respond; you kiss her back. There is no witch hovering above you and no witch running her fingers through your hair; scratching your scalp gently with her pointed nails.

It’s your fiancée; the woman you had fallen in love with.

They are one in the same and you mourn for the illusion that was your simple little life for an existence now locked away in a tower.

Is it not the same lover? Is it not the same woman?

You had fallen for her regardless; you have done everything you could to make her life easier and sweeter. You had loved her with your whole heart.

You had fallen in love with this witch and you were none the wiser.

You kiss back as you try your hardest to lift your hands up so that you could hold the back of her head; the dip of her neck. You’re still not strong enough to do so. She won’t let you be that strong. Her weight on top of you alone makes you tired and all you can do is move your mouth and tongue and moan into her mouth to signal that you want more.

You need more.

She moves ever so slightly to reach backwards; something by her leg left on the floor. You catch a glimpse of something shiny but don’t pay it any mind as your eyelids close and you sink into her embrace and the way she feels pressed up against you.

It felt the exact same as it did in her cottage; in her bed. The sounds of the farm at night relaxing you both as you shared tender and intimate moments with one another.

It had always been her, right from the start.

That beautiful glint of light comes closer to you until you feel the cold press of metal just under your chin. You swallow and can feel the blade as it dares to dig into the softness of your skin. Your lips are still pressed to Gothel’s and a gasp falls from your lips as she catches it; kissing you back harder with her tongue slipping into your mouth to silence you.

Everything you had feared about her seems to slip away. You know idealistically, she would never hurt you.

She had put too much time and effort and magic into wooing you. Into making you believe that you were important to some simple, farm girl.

You were, as she presses the tip of her dagger a little harder against your neck, irreplaceable for a witch.

You moan as she bites down on your bottom lip; hard enough to break the skin. You use whatever energy you can muster to try and push your body up against hers but she’s far too powerful and strong; still riding the high of taking your magic as her own.

You hear the dagger clatter to the wooden floor as her hand comes up to squeeze your face; your cheeks are squished. Mother Gothel pulls away so she can look right into your eyes.

“You are nothing more than a pet to me. You have been nothing more than a plaything. Don’t you remember what happened to your neighbor's daughter?”

Your memory tries to reel back as far as you can remember. You can tell she’s trying to read you; trying to pluck all those memories from you as she plunges into your mind. You try to fight her but lose and you realize, you can’t be sure of your own memories.

“That’s right, Sweetheart…she died young. She was sick. Her parents were in shambles after that as was their farm. Her father would come and go and it was just her mother who remained. That little girl, your fiancée, had died years ago…you had fallen in love with me. You are bound to me.”

Gothel’s hand pulls away from your face so that you can catch another glint of something familiar.

Your stomach sinks as you see the band around her ring finger.

It had been your mother’s; a simple band with a simple stone.

—

Your energy seems to have returned but that was her choice.

You’re more free to move around; your arms and legs are no longer dead weight and your body moves as it once did.

And it’s all because of her. 

For her.

She wants you to be on the giving end while she lounges back and receives; magic swirling in the air as you feel the insides of her thighs press hard against the sides of your head. She has you locked between her as your jaw starts to sing; muscles you hadn’t used in weeks or possibly months are pushed to the limit.

She tastes exactly like your fiancée did.

The sounds that fall from her lips are sweet and tempting and every single time she mutters a praise and strokes your hair; runs her nails against your scalp you wonder if that will be the time where you fold completely.

Give into the witch who tricked you and coerced you and kidnapped you away so that she could suck all your powers out from you and make you nothing more than her pet.

Would it be worth it to just give up and become exactly like her?

Would it be worth it to know that in reality, you truly have nothing and no one left back at your farm and in that little cottage that now stands empty because, after all, it was really you and Gothel occupying it under false pretenses.

You moan against her wet skin as your tongue laps her up like drinking from a cool stream on a warm summer’s day. 

Her hand pushes your head down farther as she tries to gain from friction from your face. Your nose rubs against her clit as you move to her whim; trying to give her what she wants because you still believe that if you appease her, she will possibly give you what you want so dearly.

Agency. Magic. Power.

Your hands snake up alongside her body so that they can hold her waist. You’ve come to know her body once again as she has not made that much difference from your fiancée’s. Maybe that was planned so that the shock once revealed wouldn't be too much for you.

That you would easily fall to love her and worship her all the same.

She’s cooing and calling you sweet and her whines begin to hitch the more you start to increase your movements. You feel as if your ears are going to pop with the amount of pressure from her thighs against them, squeezing as her hips roll towards your face. Your fingers dig into her hips as you ride with her and let her do most of the work to reach her orgasm.

She’s close. You can both feel and taste it.

The sigh that escapes her lips is like heaven as her body completely tenses. You hold your breath for a beat or two before you exhale slowly through your nose and continue to move your tongue in long, deliberately slow strokes. You try to catch everything on your tongue; pushing it back inside of her as you continue to eat her out.

You realize now, that you had just fully signed yourself over to be hers.

Going the extra distance to please her, to give her pleasure. To make sure that her body is shaking as orgasms rock out of her; a shuddering whimpering mess above and around you. The sweat that covers the side of your face and the way your ears feel like hot coals pressed against the side of your head. Your fingers sunk into her soft skin at her hips to guide her to your face, your tongue.

You swallow and lap up more of her.

You swallow and she gives you more.

You both see and feel the glow of her magic.

It’s all around you.

It’s inside of you.

She is giving you back what she’s taken from you and you know the limitations and the connection between you both.

You cannot exist without her. You owe her. You depend on her.

Her thighs fall away from your head as she tries to catch her breath; eyelids half open as she peers down at you. Your head raises to look up into her eyes; wet inhales and exhales pass between you both.

You hold your fiancée’s face so tenderly in your hands as you pull yourself in to gently kiss her lips. Everything feels new again and possible; everything you had ever feared seems to dissipate the second you embrace the love of your life.

You were lucky, so goddamn lucky to have this smart, caring and hardworking woman in your life. Your family’s farm had backed up onto her family’s farm and there was an old wooden fence that marked your property from hers.

The two of you spent days climbing through that hole in the fence to spend time with each other.

You had basically grown up together; childhood into teenagers into young adults. When her mother had fallen ill and her father left to find better work, she had taken over the farm. You had done your best to help her and her family despite knowing that your farm and her farm were at odds with one another.

Your farm and her farm were in the same industry and therefore, competitors for the Kingdom of Corona.

And even still, it never felt like you were competing with her. You had given her all your time and comfort; all your love to help. She took it graciously and all those days bled together and she became the sole person in charge of her farm, you had found yourself over there more and more than you were at your own home.

Eventually, you never returned and stayed with your girlfriend until you both made a vow to stay together forever. A secret engagement that only the two of you knew about.

You weren’t sure how anyone else in the Kingdom would take the news. This sort of love was not something that was easily accepted in a wide sweep of people.

Despite it all, you both made it work and her farm flourished while the two of you flourished as a pair. Your walls had withered away and you felt that you could trust her with just about anything, everything.

It was one night after bringing the cows in from pasture that you decided to finally tell your love a big part about you that you had held back. Maybe she already knew; could sense that you were slightly different from the rest. If she knew or not, you knew that you needed to be able to be your full self with her or else, it would never work.

Your fiancée needed to know that you were a magical being; unknowing to anyone else except now maybe, to her.

You had waited after so much impatience to rush inside and tell her; tell her everything you were capable of but when that moment came in which you thought was the best moment; a cloudless night sky that showcased every single star in the sky and the moon, something was wrong.

Something felt off.

The cottage was eerily quiet and you were accustomed to smelling dinner coming from the tiny kitchen and the smell of wood burning away in the stove. You smelt none of these things and inside, it was as dark as night.

You called out to her and waited for a response but none came. She hadn’t told you she was going anywhere or was going to be coming back from a place. You were certain she had been inside for the remainder of the evening while you finished up the day's work.

She is, as you come to understand the dread setting in the pit of your stomach, that your lover is not there and maybe never was. There’s nothing to indicate that she had been working inside of the cottage. It looked untouched.

You call out to her and are met with the dead silence of night; nothing but crickets and the soft wind that you are so used to. It should bring you comfort, these idyllic sounds but all it does it make you anxious to find out just where exactly your fiancée has gone.

That is, until the world around you turns black.

That is, until you wake up possibly days later on a hard wooden floor bound with rope and gagged with cloth.

That is, until you met Mother and fell to her mercy.

—

You are controlled by how often and how deeply you can think about the woman you love. You’ve come to realize that Mother is very territorial over you and, to your own challenged realization, jealous.

Of course she had taken you away for your power but the longer you stay with her and the longer she advances towards you, you wonder if there were other reasons for her wanting you all to herself.

Perhaps she was lonely or, perhaps she had realized that you would make a perfect plaything for her.

Seasoned, you had once heard her say under her breath as her lips were inches from yours, you knew how to please a woman.

And the longer you stayed, the longer she kept you under her thumb, the more your need for human connection grew. Maybe it was nothing more than the magic draining away from you that made you think such things. Maybe, it was nothing more than conditioning just to survive being captured.

Whatever it was, you craved her more and more and the image and thoughts and feelings of your fiancée started to slip away.

It was easier each time that she decided to be intimate or even intimate with you. You would wake up some days to find yourself sitting up on her wooden chair with her sitting in your lap. Her hands move quickly; fingers flying as she feels you up through your clothing. You hear her breath, slow and deep against your ear and you can’t help but to allow yourself to respond.

You want so badly to have human connection again; something that feels good in moments of despair. You want to feel normal once more and not like some prisoner being locked away high up in a tower with a witch using you for all you got.

“That’s it, Sweetheart…you just relax…you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Her voice is sweet and gentle as she continues to touch you; feather-light finger tips that run over your erect nipples. She moves those fingers down and you do your best to watch her hands. Those goddamn hands you’ve had many dreams about lately. The first time you had thought about them, you had wanted them in your mouth after she had touched herself.

Now, as you sit there and feel her weight on your lap, you’d like nothing more for those same fingers to be deep inside of you.

“Oh? Is that right? Is that what you really want?”

Her voice is husky in your mind and you quickly close your eyes. You don’t want her looking at your face to read the obvious desire that stirs behind your eyes. You don’t want her to realize that she is very slowly converting you to whatever little plaything she’s trying to make you out to be.

You don’t want to give in so easily and yet, your breath hitches in your throat the second her hand lands on your upper thigh and moves upwards under your shift.

“You’ll be mine soon enough…you almost were…I almost had you…”

Your head falls back with your neck resting on the top back of the chair. Her words fill your mind and even though it sounds odd, you’re in too much pleasure to question what she’s saying to you.

Her fingers work their way down to your inner thigh and you can feel the heat coming off of your own skin. Her fingers are slightly colder; the back of her fingers pressed against you make you sigh. Closer and closer until her nails graze gently over the sensitive skin before the tips of her fingers make contact with the coarse hair in the fold of your leg.

You hear her breath this time; dreamy against your neck and she sits up a little closer and falls onto your chest. Her body is as pressed up against yours as she physically can; sinking into you as you fall into her.

You allow her to fill you up with her fingers. When she does, you can feel her magic coursing through you and you know, some of that is your own. You feel slightly stronger and a little more clear headed. You feel as if you could move your hands and push her off of your lap and get out of this tower and return to your normal, boring life down in the farmlands.

However, Mother is magic and there’s no escaping her now. Not with the way she makes you feel and definitely not with the way she has promised you something beyond yourself. You may never know the outcome of telling your secret to your lover and that inkling of worry of rejection had filled your every waking thoughts. It was possible that she would not love that side of you but here, in this tower, with this woman?

There was no doubt in your mind that you were respected and accepted. You had simply done something right to get her attention; her affection.

Her fingers push a little deeper and you feel your upper body fold in towards her; your head resting against hers.

Something deep inside of you stirs as if pulling a string attached to a memory. You whimper and aren’t sure if that’s just from the way she’s touching you or if some deep recess of your brain is pinging an important message. She coos at you to settle you down, like a scared animal that only needs an ounce of kindness.

The way your head feels pressed against hers is something you have felt before.

Exactly.

Your mouth opens but before you could even ask her or accuse her, she’s talking over you. Her words all sound the same; one muffled sound that dips high and low in tone and you scramble to make sense of what she’s saying as her fingers lately pump in and out of you.

More days and weeks pass and you find yourself pretty much how you’ve been since she’s brought you to this tower. You are still drained of your powers and watched rather closely; still under her thumb as she feeds you herself and doesn’t let you stray. She had a close eye on you despite her admitting that she wants you to be just like her.

Your powers combined to do what exactly, she hadn’t been clear.

Some days she dotes on you from the second you’re awake until the moment you slip into a deep and forgetful sleep while others, she walks past you and goes about her business like you weren’t her captive laid out on the floor beside her feet.

Those days where you were forgotten about, it was easy to see just how cruel and selfish this woman could be. Clearly, she was only looking out for herself without much care towards or for you.

Wasn’t that, however, what most witches had succumbed to?

You would try to speak in those fleeting moments; try to get her attention. You weren’t sure why, maybe it was just to remind her that you were a person. A living breathing thing she now had in her care. Could one even call it care? To be taken away and left to forcefully give up their power to someone else?

The most selfish thing she would do, you very quickly chalked it up, was when she really and truly pretended you were not sharing the same space with her and your mind would feel heavy. You knew it was her and her powers; holding your mind hostage and locking up your brain so that you couldn’t speak. Hell, you couldn’t even move.

You felt her eyes on you at all times during these moments as she moved around the small, round space. She would test out her newly gained magic, your magic and then feel very, overly confident with herself.

With your eyes trained to focus on her, she would sigh loud and dreamy and step out of her shoes and you knew then and there that you had no hope in returning back to your old life.

She would use her own hands, no magic, to undress herself from her long, velvet gown. You tried to will the image of your lover back into your mind and those secret, passionate moments you two had shared. It seemed however that this hold on your mind wouldn’t allow you to slip into your own fantasies. Mother had put a lock on all that you had known and very slowly, without realizing it, you could no longer remember what your fiancée looked like.

Every single time you tried to imagine and picture the woman you had fallen in love with; the woman you had devoted your life to, only the image of Mother would appear.

She was making you hers, just like she had said.

She moved around her tower without any sense of embarrassment; everything she would do clothed she would do completely naked. You were her audience and she made sure to give you a show. You knew that giving her attention was your best bet in gaining some sort of power, of agency back. You made sure to follow her every move with your eyes and when you had that small ounce of willpower, your head.

She would smile at you and watch you; add an extra bounce in her step just to tease that she had all the power and the energy she had sucked right out from you. That’s what it felt like; suction between water and air.

You had read something once that tried to ebb and flow back into your memory; a part she hadn’t fully blocked from your brain yet. Succubi and Incubi. Maybe that’s what this was. Perhaps even, she was a form of vampire.

You try to lift your head and arms; anything to shift in your position. You want to get as far away from her as you can as if suddenly, it dawns on you how dangerous she is.

You hear her laugh as she takes a seat in her chair. She’s facing you; one leg over the other. The dim light of the room casts dark shadows over her skin. It should be menacing and terrifying; it should make you nervous to even be in the same room with her in such a way that is so vulnerable.

You can’t stop staring at her legs as your eyes trace up over her shin to her knee to beyond. You can feel her gaze boring into you as she watches, intrigued with the way you’re soaking her up in silence.

“Do you like what you see? Do you want more?”

You hear her voice but don’t see her mouth move. Maybe it’s the angle you’re laying or the fact that her face is shadowed over. Maybe you’re just so tired and so hungry that you can’t even focus anymore; time is bleeding into itself.

You try to move your head again; not quite a nod and not quite a shake of the head. She doesn’t seem to notice as she slips her leg off of her other. Both of her feet are now flat on the ground and her legs slightly spread open.

In the darkness of the room, you start to see a glowing yellow light.

Your eyes widen to it as it grows and illuminates everything around it. The source of light appears to come from her left hand. That side of her body is rid of the shadows that had fallen over her and you can see every inch of her naked skin.

A soft moan escapes your lips as you can clearly see her now. Her smile is nothing but delicious as if she’s having far too much fun all by herself. And maybe she is, maybe that’s the point of all this teasing and showing off your powers that now make her so strong.

“You like that, don’t you? I thought you would…I’ve seen the way you look at me and now…”

That beam of light reaches you like a tight grip, forcing your upper body to rise from the floor. You sit up but not to your own doing and your focus is locked on her.

Only on her.

She grins at what she’s been able to do with the power she’s taken from you and knows that you are now locked here. Right where she wants you with no means to fight her.

Your agency belongs to her as does your power. You are nothing more than a toy, a pet for this evil witch and what she’s first using your powers for are for nothing but seduction.

While you still feel utterly exhausted, the magic holds you up and keeps you erect so that you can watch as her right hand sinks in between her legs. Her left hand snaps upwards to hold the light at a better angle for both her and you to see every single action. The veins on the back of her hands flex and her knuckles on the middle and pointer finger bulge as those fingers dip towards herself.

Touching and pleasing herself.

You can see the glisten of wetness on her skin, on the hair that wildly curls. The way her fingers become shinier with each swipe and each rub. The way her chest heaves as her breaths become deeper and shakier; inconsistent as she throws herself over the edge of her own doing. How many nights have you laid awake in bed with your partner, fast asleep by your side, and did the same thing with them in mind?

“Uh huh…you don’t get to think about her while your eyes are on me now, Darling.”

It's now that you realize her left hand is up on her chest; against her left breast. Her nipple looks almost painfully hard as it stands erect in her arousal. Her fingers ghost against the pebbled bud before she uses her thumb and finger to squeeze and pull.

You suddenly feel the jolt between your legs and the deep feeling of needing to be filled. You should feel embarrassed over your arguably natural reaction to a beautiful woman pleasuring herself before you.

Your body reacts in a way that isn't that uncommon for you.

And she, Mother, knows it.

“Attagirl…you want a taste of me, don't you? You want to run your hands all over me…I can see it in those eyes just pleading. Pathetic. Why do you think it was so easy to take your powers?”

She laughs at this, at your shortcomings. She laughs at how easily it was to manipulate you and turn you into a plaything. She laughs as she keeps twisting and pinching her nipple as her slender fingers slip past her puffy, engorged folds until they're stuffed deep inside of herself.

She stops laughing and you know, at that moment, she can read your thoughts.

The way the look in her eyes changes so quickly as she sinks deeper into her chair and pushes her fingers deeper. You can't help but to focus on her teeth biting her bottom lip.

Her voice fills your mind,

“What's that, Sweetheart? You want Mother's fingers in your mouth? Such a naughty thing you are…was this something you asked your fiancée for or is this only something you want with me?”

You groan at her words and you watch as her teeth pull away from her bottom lip to allow another smile to appear. She nods her head as she continues on; following her own pace for herself.

You wonder then what this is all about; what sort of game she’s playing to take not only your powers but to render you helpless in such a redeeming, private way.

“Curious thing, too, aren’t you? Full of questions…it’s about control, always has been. And what’s a way that a woman can harness control? There’s many ways to go about that, of course…this just seems to be the most obvious and useful one…”

She allows your head to loll to one side and your shoulders to slump as if to prove her point about power. She’s still controlling you as she takes control over herself; her body. There will always be someone in control and you’ve known this all your life, especially as a woman.

People fear a powerful woman who knows how to take control.

You watch as she nods her head at you as if she finally knows that you know what she has wanted you to realize.

She is trying to make you into a powerful woman who knows how to take control.

“That’s it, Sweet Thing…that’s what Mommy’s been trying to give you…you gotta take control to get control…do you want it? Do you want to be just as powerful as me?”

Your lips part and you feel her magic ever so slightly slip away from you. She watches you with an eagerness that you can’t really tell if it’s from waiting for you to respond or the build up of her own pleasure.

Perhaps both.

“Y…yes. Yes, I do want it.”

Her body folds in on itself as she almost appears to slide down against the wooden chair. You can’t take your eyes off of her as her shoulders round and her head bows towards her chest; the mass of curls falling into her face to hide her lovely features.

Lovely.

You had not thought of her that way until now; until her moment of unraveling around her own fingers.

You exhale as she exhales and you find yourself trying to catch your own breath alongside her as if you’re just as spent as she is.

You are, in a way, she had used your magic to get herself this worked up and to her own orgasm. She had used your body, mind and powers to get what she wanted.

Control.

Power.

And endless supply of it or, so you hope.

She could very well be the end of you and you know this as the magic slips away from you completely and leaves you once again as a crumpled heap of your former self on the hard wooden floor as she, youthful and energetic as ever. She uses her free hand to push her hair out from her face so she can watch you; stare you down with a smirk on her lips.

You would love to feel even an ounce of power that she has right now. An itch you wonder if she’ll ever let you scratch.

You want her more than anything and in admitting that, you want the power she has taken from you and then some.