Ffion the Christmas Elf Pt. 04

If gothic horror, isnt your thing, find a different story.

Ffion, once a husband, now a slave, had been sent away by her owners, to a coven of witches. While her owners enjoy a spa retreat, Ffion is sent to the same witches who had used their magic to prepare Ffion for life as a slave, held by the power of her love for her owners.

Ffion was kept busy into the evening, carrying cases from cars parked at the end of the track, helping guests find their rooms, serving snacks and drinks and helping to prepare the feast for the next day. Every witch had brought a dish of food and some drinks. They also brought a mountain of grass, hash, E's, acid and psilocybin mushrooms. Clearly the next day would be a party with a capital 'P'.

Ffion was kept busy carrying bags up to rooms, serving visitors snacks before bed and helping in the kitchen. As the evening drew on the numbers downstairs dwindled a women slipped away to bed. A few old friends were chatting late into the night over drinks in quiet corners, happy to catch up on news before the next days feast. Three witches were engrossed in an animated conversation in a dark corner; Ffion recognised one of them from her enslavement ceremony but the other two were unknown to her. The three of them were very fashionably dressed and by their looks they could have been mistaken for models. Ffion caught fragments of their conversation about some infernal device that seemed to excite them but Ffion paid it no heed.

"It came from a prison in central Europe somewhere. Oh! the stories it could tell," said a black haired witch.

"It must be an object of such power. I'm sure we could turn its energy away from evil, harness that power for good," said her friend.

"No, I think it should be destroyed. It can only have one purpose, it can only serve evil," replied the witch that Ffion recognised.

"Pfft!" snorted the dark haired witch. "What would be the fun in that. Ever since I heard about it I've been fantasising. So dark, so sexy."

"What do you mean, sexy?"

"I mean strapping some man into it."

"What? For sex?"

"Mmm! I've been getting hot and bothered just thinking about it, him on his back looking up at that blade, me riding him until the crucial moment then pulling the lever or whatever...."

"That's monstrous!"

"I know, but so sexy, so powerful."

"Think of the mess though."

"What, a massive spurt and its over."

"There'd be no pillow talk afterwards."

"No, he wouldn't need a pillow at all!"

They shared meaningful looks and giggled.

Slowly the house became quiet as witches made their way to bed. Ffion tidied up after the stragglers then built up the fire before curling up to sleep on a rug next to the hearth. In the glow of the hot embers she felt snug and warm, though the memories of her previous visit to the house of the witches still sent a shiver through her heart.

Ffion was kicked awake the next morning and sent to the kitchen to serve breakfast and to help preparing the feast for the day. Through the house groups of witches settled together, clustered around one of their elders discussing ancient lore and practices. Ffion padded from room to room, feeding fires to keep the place warm and carrying trays of tea and coffee to refresh the witches.

Clare came to find Ffion and spoke with her kindly. She asked Ffion about her experiences over the previous months then lead her into a room where a group of witches waited.

Clare introduced Ffion. "Here is the slave Ffion, bound by our magic."

The witches talked together and Clare asked Ffion to bring out her little pouch containing the tokens of her slavery. The significance of each token was discussed in terms and language that Ffion didn't understand and Clare sang to the group a song of Ffion's love, devotion and submission to her owners, and their cruelty and dominance for Ffion. The witches told Ffion to strip to her knickers then admired Ffion's curvy body and laughed at the thought of her shrivelled manhood. A brown skinned petite witch rubbed a potion over Ffion's boobs then sang and touched them. In Ffion's mind grew an urge to nurture and sustain the witch. They sat together on a sofa, the witch with her head on Ffion's lap nustling up to Ffion's body. She smiled up at Ffion and that smiling face sent Ffion into a moment of love and calm where she knew that her breasts were full. She held the smiling face to a swollen nipple and gave herself to feed the little witch. The witches laughed and smiled at the tenderness Ffion gave as she nursed. And Ffion felt calm fulfilment and love. With milk running down her chin the little witch sat up and kissed Ffion.

"I have a gift for you," said Meera.

She handed Ffion a little pot of potion.

She whispered so only Ffion could hear, "My gift to you is a womanly feeling, of love and comfort. There will be times when you'll want give yourself to sustain and feed somebody you love. You can feed me because I made the potion and sang the spell; in future you'll only be able to feed people you love and who truly love you. Use a little of the potion on each breast and you will be able to give them the milk of your love. When they stop feeding your milk will dry up but the love between you will flow more strongly."

In the kitchen the feast was approaching perfection. The long table groaned with food and treats. To one side was a drinks table with a selection of fine wines and a range of home made booze made with forest fruits. In one corner of the drinks table sat a selection of the finest illicit narcotics known to man and a few that were known only to witches. The thirty witches set to with gusto, savouring fine cuisine and slurping sweet wines. Ffion stood to one side, serving food as required and topping up glasses. In return the witches fed Ffion dainty morsels. The room became more and more raucous and in Ffion's mind the room started to shimmer and swirl. The witches were truly partying with a capital P.

Mother made a speech, none of which made any sense to Ffion, except when Ffion herself was introduced as a slave. Then the dancing began! By dusk on the shortest day of the year the house was bouncing. In one room witches danced, in another they sang and in a third they amused each other with silly magic to make each other laugh. Ffion was sure that in reality they couldn't turn cushions into cats but maybe in this reality they could, or maybe in real reality they really could.... or something. Ffion only knew they made her laugh with their tricks and she couldn't stop laughing.

Ffion didn't notice the black haired witch's eyes following her around the room with a wolfish gleam. It was approaching midnight when Ffion stepped out into the garden to get a breath of air. She was followed.

"Hi, I hear you're a slave, were you captured, forced into it?"

"No, I chose to give myself as a slave to the women I love."

"That's so brave of you to make that choice."

"Thank you Miss. I chose to be a slave and it all happened at Halloween. Mother and some of the witches helped prepare me beforehand. Clare and Flora were in charge of the ceremony and now I'm a slave."

"How did Mother prepare you?"

"I'm not sure I can explain, Miss I think I know what happened but I don't understand what it meant. All I know is that it's helped me to become a slave."

"How lovely. Who owns you?"

"My wife and her lover. She and I are getting divorced then she'll marry Jenny."

"And you'll be their slave until they divorce?"

"No, Miss! I am their slave forever."

"Do you serve them sexually?"

"No, they have each other. But I have given oral satisfaction to people when my Mistresses or trustees tell me to."

"Clare suggested I might take advantage of your tongue. Come along."

"Well, if Miss Clare says so then I'll do my best for you."

She lead Ffion towards one of the larger outbuildings.

The witch paused at the door, "I'm a little shy, may I blindfold you, I don't want you to watch me pull my knickers down. Sorry if it sounds silly."

Meekly, Ffion turned and allowed herself to be blindfolded with the witch's scarf. Ffion heard a door opening and felt soft hands guiding her through.

From a window Flora watched the two of them disappear into the barn, then rushed to fetch Clare and Mother.

"Please, slip your dress off, I want you to look sexy for me."

Ffion unfastened the dress and let it slip down her body before stepping out of it. She shivered in the darkness.

"Here, lie back on this table. It's about the right hight for me to straddle your face."

Ffion obeyed and lay on her back on a narrow plank with her head lolling back over the edge. She heard the witch fiddling with a mechanism until a gate seemed to close down on Ffion's neck and lock into place.

"I'll just light some candles."

Ffion heard a match striking and the scent of burning wax filled her nostrils. Her eyes were uncovered and Ffion blinked as she got used to the flickering lights.

"Do you know what it is?" laughed the witch, mocking Ffion. "Silly boy. Yes, I know what you are. A foul man who thinks they can learn to be a woman. A walking penis who thinks they can move onto my turf, or should I say TERF?"

She was derisive. Ffion felt fear.

"Look up, look at the blade, shining, waiting to drink your blood. Once the guillotine has done its work you'll be buried as what you are. A foul man."

She laughed and lifted her dress over her head to reveal her nakedness. She stepped up to Ffion's face and presented her engorged labia at Ffion's lips.

"Oh my god, when I start to come I can just pull this lever and I'll dance in ecstasy as the blade runs down, gathering speed, slicing into the soft flesh, hacking through the hard bone, releasing your blood over my body. Great spurts of blood as I orgasm. I can't wait."

Ffion thought about her life, about everything that had lead her to this moment and wept as she licked the soft lips above her.

"Abject misery for your last moments.... trans scum."

Her rhythmic motions grew stronger. Ffion feared her life's thread was close to its end. Ffion sensed the witch trembling, taut, ready for release. A click, a mechanism moving, a blade plummeting.

'I'm ended' thought Ffion

Then a flash of light.

Mother had thrust her staff out in front of her. In the barn, time stood still.

"Clare, Flora, quick, I can't hold it for long, get Ffion."

The two witches rushed in and struggled with the gate holding Ffion's neck. The blade was inches away, held in a timeless moment, eager to complete its intentions. Flora undid a lock and Clare lifted Ffion free. They swept past Mother, who dropped her staff, exhausted, releasing time to tick inexorably onward. The blade slammed down, cutting through the empty air as the dark haired witch grunted with pleasure. She looked down in anticipation then screamed.

"Where has he gone, where the fuck is that snivelling trans bastard?"

Mother stepped into the room.

"Where has what gone?"

Mother spoke with a voice of pure ice. The effect on the witch was chilling.

"Where has who gone, Karen?" Mother repeated.

Karen spluttered, obviously trying to imagine some version of a lie that Mother would buy. Mother held her gaze on Karen, transfixing the black haired witch. The silence was deafening.

"I, err, I was, well....." Karen tailed off back into silence.

Mother planted herself firmly in front of the witch.

"We will all talk about this when everyone has sobered up."

Mother issued each word like banging on a drum. Mother picked up Ffion's dress then turned on her heels, collected her staff and marched out, leaving Karen in tears.

When Mother got back into the house the party remained in full swing. She found Clare and Flora and helped them take Ffion up the stairs to a secret room high in the eaves of the house. Ffion was incoherent, raving, weeping, convinced that she was dead. Clare and Flora tried to comfort her but Ffion was beyond their reach. They sang to Ffion but to no avail. Then Mother remembered something and sent Flora to fetch Meera.

When Flora returned, Ffion was still huddled in a corner, wrapped in a blanket, silently shaking, body rigid. Meera looked over to Ffion and understood at once what she had to do. She nustled close to Ffion and began to sing her own song. Slowly Ffion softened. She gently held Meera's head and guided her to a breast. Clare undid Ffion's bra and Meera suckled. Ffion relaxed against the wall and the anguish fell from her face. Feeling her milk let down Ffion helped the petite witch to latch on to her breast. Ffion knew she was alive. She closed her eyes and stroked Meera's hair until the little witch had drunk her fill.

The witches helped Ffion onto a bed and Meera cuddled up next to her. Through that long night the witches took turns to be close to Ffion as she dozed fitfully next to their warm bodies. The songs that they sang her soothed her to sleep, but the nightmares ran through her like a heart beat. Meera fed every four hours.

The cold dark day struggled over the horizon with ragged clouds driven across the sky by a cold wind, adding to the streams and rivers with grey curtains of rain. Mother summoned all to the kitchen to hear what had happened the night before. Mother, Clare and Flora told their stories. Karen was unrepentant.

Flora was puzzled on one detail, "Mother, we waited and watched from the doorway for a few minutes before you acted and we rescued Ffion. Why did you delay?"

Mother smiled kindly, "Until Karen pulled the lever she had done nothing wrong. It could have been just a bit of harmless fun until that moment. And who am I to get between a witch and her orgasm? After all, part of our power comes from our sexual expression!"

The witches around the table nodded in agreement.

Karen spoke once more, "It was in the throes of passion that I pulled the lever releasing that blade. The blade was urging me on and I succumbed. Yes, it was fulfilment of a fantasy and I think the blade had been calling me all day. I'm not sorry for my actions and I defy any one of you to say they can always resist temptation. After all Mother, you created a slave, dark magic from many life times ago. You cannot tell me you did that for innocent purposes. You cannot tell me you weren't tempted by ego to display your power before you wither and die!"

"It is your vanity that has brought that object here, you thinking you can harness it for good," Karen continued. "The guillotine has its own intentions. It was fed on evil in Berlin, then carried away to Romania. You cannot tame it."

Once more the witches in the room voiced their assent. Mother looked shaken; it was decades since another witch had spoken to her in those terms. She paused, took a deep breath then spoke.

"You're right Karen, I have been foolish. The two of us should make amends to our sisters. With your help, I will destroy the life taker."

Karen agreed to help mother.

"In our world we are not bound by the labels used in society. We know that supposedly fixed boundaries can be transcended. Let it be so with Ffion and her gender. You have studied long to learn how to manage female beauty, I just ask that you grant Ffion one wish using your powers."

Karen smiled, "Of course Mother. Just bring me a hair and I promise he will be transformed, she will be an English rose."

Clare laughed, "That would be cruel. Maybe something a little more Welsh would suit her."

The witches all smiled and started to kiss one another. The meeting had come to agreement binding all to the outcome.

Karen spoke for the last time, "For our magic to work she mustn't be guided in her wish. She can only know that the wish is for her alone, not for another. She mustn't be told once it starts to take effect, though I'm sure she'll work it out for herself at some point."

Mother told Flora and Clare to prepare Ffion to be returned to her owners.

Catryn's phone rang. It was Flora calling her out into the spa carpark. There was a note of urgency in her voice.

"Thanks for looking after Ffion while we had this little break. "

"It was great having her around. She was so helpful. We wouldn't have had half as much fun without her."

"Why don't you grab a coffee before you drive back. I'll call mum to say you're here."

Flora was pleased, "Yes There are things I must tell you before I have to get back. It might be better if we sit somewhere comfortable."

The two young women settled in the lounge and ordered coffee. Ffion was left with Clare and Meera in the back of the Land Rover.

Flora began, " I'm afraid that things got a little out of hand and we may have lost Ffion had mother not acted so quickly."

"How do you mean, lost? Lost as in tried to run off?" asked Catryn.

"No, lost, as in gone forever," replied Flora.

"Just let me get this straight, lost as in she may not have come back? Lost, as in resting in an unmarked grave?"

" I'm really sorry. It was a bit of high spirits really but luckily Clare and I spotted what was happening and we got Mother to sort it out. It was a visiting witch, a very powerful witch who may become our Mother when the time comes."

"Who almost killed our slave while they were larking around?"

"That's about the size of it."

"What were they thinking?"

"Well, they were off their face on 'shrooms, acid and who knows what else. They thought that as she was a slave and no one would be that bothered. And I think there was an element of TERF prejudice too."

"Did Ffion realise how close she came?"

"Totally. She shat herself, and I don't mean that as a metaphor. I suspect that it didn't help that Ffion may have been given some drugs and was probably hallucinating. It happened yesterday evening and I'm not sure she recovered the power of speech yet."

"As in she can't talk about it?"

"No, she was totally hysterical and couldn't make any coherent sounds at all. She's calmer now but you'll have to take care of her for a day or so. "

"Oh poor lamb!" Catryn started laughing out loud. "She was terrified of being sent to the witches."

"Should I tell you what happened?"

"No, it will be better if Jenny beats it out of her."

Initially Flora looked shocked at Catryn's callousness. She paused and considered the younger woman.

"You'd use her near murder to control her as a slave?"

"Absolutely! But that would be a decision for mum and Jenny. If it was up to me I'd send her back to the witches ASAP."

C and Jenny appeared in the lounge to join the two younger women. Catryn went over and spoke with her mother briefly before they returned to the table.

"If Ffion can collect our bags and take them to the car then we can leave," said Jenny.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," replied Flora. "Ffion is in a bit of a state. We've had to quieten her. She's in the back of the Land Rover."

"Oh dear! Did she misbehave or over indulge at your party?"

"No, it's a lot more serious than that. She behaved impeccably and we'd love to have her back but I'm afraid you mays stop us using her. She had a near death experience and she's become a little unhinged," explained Flora.

"Well, that's the sort of thing we expect from witches," chuckled C. "I'm sure it will have done her the world of good. I'll talk with you and Clare in the new year and we'll arrange another play date for Ffion. In the meantime we'll look after Ffion. After all, we need our slave to take care of us at Christmas. "

They carried their own cases down to their car and transferred Ffion under a blanket. Catryn and Flora exchanged kisses and they promised to keep in touch before the witches and the slave owners each went their separate ways. Behind the facade of indifference C was extremely worried about Ffion.

In the deep midwinter the days were short and it was getting dark by the time they arrived back at the cottage. They opened up the fireplace in the master bedroom and set a blaze that gave a warm comforting light. Mattresses were spread on the floor and Ffion was washed, helped to dress in a warm nightie, then tucked in under a duvet.