Lady Mielikki's Amulet Ch. 02

Hey all - Second story! Once again this is FANTASY, and it takes place in a fantasy world. This is all just fetish stuff mixed with an interest in high fantasy. All characters are of course over 18 years old. I don't actually harbor any beliefs about alpha/beta/cuckold stuff beyond just thinking it's a fantasy. In real life, taking someone from a battlefield and making them work in your tavern is, of course, morally reprehensible. And of course, always be responsible if you'll be drinking and/or smoking anytime before BDSM play. Again, it's fantasy, and kind of tongue in cheek. That said, as always, even though it's fantasy, here's to hoping it's filthy fucking hot fantasy.

Heavy on BDSM/orgasm denial/femdom/humiliation/foot fetish/spanking/sweat fetish (maybe niche, but it's one of mine, so...sorry). If those aren't your things, you've been warned!

For everyone else, let's get back to Atalantahna...

***

The Witch lived in Hela City's Night Quarter, a section of the city plunged into an artificial night around the clock. The Witch's manor was enormous; it dominated a small hill encircled by a black wrought iron fence.

Lady Mielikki led Tofi through the cobblestoned streets of the city toward the gate onto the manor property. She'd decided to use the leash. Tofi hated the leash in public. She usually reserved it for punishments, but it was traditional that a cuckold be led to the Witch's manor collared and leashed -- a sign to everyone they passed what was going to happen -- and Lady Mielikki was nothing if not traditional.

Almost too much so.

As they approached the gate, two of the Witch's nullified cuckold servants -- easy to pick out because of their pink tunics, the standard uniform of a nullified cuckold in Hela City -- turned the massive cranks to open the way, the groan of metal-on-metal splitting the still night air. The nullified cuckolds didn't make eye contact as they passed. Tofi was grateful for that. He swallowed hard.

He'd soon be one of them.

The Witch's manor was a four-story affair, all turrets and towers. Like many other Witch's manors in Hela City, this one had a tavern and a Nullified Theater on the first floor. It had been a long time since Tofi had been inside one of those, and anyway, things would be different now. Feel different.

Lady Mielikki led him up the path through the hedges and pines of the grounds, past a handful of pink-clad nullified cuckolds doing work on the grounds, to the massive front doors of the manor. Two more nullified cuckolds pushed these open, and then they were in the dark confines of the tavern and Nullified Theater.

Right away, Tofi caught sight of a dozen or more Cuckold Amulets winking at them in the dimness. Out there in the open. For any paying Atalantahnan woman to just...mess with.

Lady Mielikki had promised him she'd keep his Cuckold Amulet after the ritual, and Tofi felt better knowing that. Lady Mielikki could be strict, but she wasn't insane.

Nullified Cuckolds lost the ability to orgasm, thanks to the spell the Witch performed on them that either shrank their penis or caused it to vanish. The spell simultaneously kept them in a state of sexual frustration and also instilled in them a desire to serve the woman holding their Cuckold Amulet. By touching the Cuckold Amulet, the Amulet's holder could manipulate the nullified cuckold's level of frustration and desperation; there were cases of nullified cuckolds kept in constant states of arousal who went insane from frustration. Amulet holders used Amulets to control Nullified Cuckolds in that way.

Most of the time, a Cuckold Amulet was a private thing, something a cuckold's wife held and used to control them. Not so for the Nullified Cuckolds who worked in the Witch's tavern and Nullified Theater. Their amulets were public, and any paying woman could manipulate them for better service or for their entertainment. These were the lowest of the low cuckolds in Hela City, at the whims of any paying customer. In return for excellent service, an Atalantahnan woman might tip a bartender or server -- meaning that they'd use the cuckold's Amulet to turn down the frustration a bit. It was never enough, of course, to obtain any sort of real relief.

But it didn't stop them from slavering for it.

Tofi swallowed hard again.

In a corner of the tavern away to his right, a Nullified Cuckold was on stage, chained to the wall naked. An Atalantahnan woman knelt before him, running her hands across the insides of his thighs, across the place where his penis must once have been, her mouth open, inviting a cumshot he could never deliver. As Tofi watched, the cuckold strained against the chains and arched his hips, desperate for some sort of feeling -- any sort of feeling. A handful of women in the audience laughed and cheered and a few tapped the cuckold's Amulet on the wall near the stage.

Lady Mielikki gave the leash a sharp tug, and Tofi fell into step behind her. She led him through the maze of tables and toward the back of the tavern. A heavy wooden door occupied a back corner there; Lady Mielikki lifted the iron knocker and hit the door's surface three times. Then she stepped back and jerked the leash; Tofi followed.

"Remember your manners, Tofi," she whispered. "Don't embarrass me in front of the Witch."

Tofi nodded and waited. He wished Lady Mielikki hadn't decided to use the leash. He could already feel the blood rushing to his face, the blush taking over his cheeks and throat, as he thought about the Witch seeing him in the heavy leather collar and chain leash Lady Mielikki had chosen. It was a stupid thing to be self-conscious about, but he felt it.

They didn't have to wait long. The Witch emerged from behind the door and nodded to Lady Mielikki, then embraced her. The Witch kissed her on the lips, and Tofi felt it deep in his gut.

Just north of the penis he wouldn't have for much longer.

The Witch was dressed simply, in a sleeveless black shift and a leather skirt that ended well above the knee. Her gleaming auburn hair fell to her heavy belt.

"Mielikki, so good of you to come by," she said, motioning toward a table toward the wall. "Sit, please. It's been too long, no?"

They moved toward a table in the back and Lady Mielikki took a seat on a stool across from the Witch. There were only two stools. Lady Mielikki tucked the end of the leash under her thigh and Tofi stood next to them.

"It has been," Lady Mielikki said. "The last time must have been...what...that tournament last year?"

Tofi winced at the memory of the tournament from last year. Lady Mielikki had won it, of course, skilled huntress and archer she was. The challenge had involved the competing women shooting their cuckolds with dummy arrows. Dummy arrows wouldn't break the skin, but they still hurt like ever-loving hell. The bruises had taken weeks to clear up.

"I think it was, yes," the Witch said. "It's been such a wild year, really. Between the campaign in the Manacle Mountains, the two tournaments, the political events in Hela Castle which -- I don't think I've told you, but things have been wild over there."

"I bet," Lady Mielikki said.

Tofi shifted his feet.

"But where are my manners?" The Witch asked. "You need a drink and your cucky needs a smoke."

A smoke? Tofi knew cuckolds weren't really allowed to know what happened during the Nullification Ritual. He knew it had to happen during the full moon. He knew there was no actual physical injury involved -- it was the Witch's spell that caused a cuckold's penis to shrink or vanish, and also trapped his desire in an Amulet. He knew that for the ritual to work, the cuckold in question had to be more aroused than he'd ever been in his life, and -- often -- the cuckold would enjoy the best orgasm of his life during the ritual.

Right before he lost that ability forever, of course.

But he hadn't heard anything about smoking.

The Witch snapped her fingers and the heavy door next to Tofi -- the same one the Witch had emerged from -- ground open against the stone floor. Tofi's eyes bulged when he saw who it was carrying the serving tray.

Another woman.

Serving women were rare in Atalantahna. Women relegated to serving roles -- the only roles open to cuckolds -- had either been sentenced there by criminal courts or else were captives, women taken on the battlefields by Atalantahna's legendary army. Neither situation was permanent: women sentenced to serve eventually fulfilled their sentence and even women taken on the battlefield could (and almost always did) earn their freedom. Whether sentenced to it or taken captive in battle, serving women in Atalantahna had Amulets of their own, controlled by Atalantahnan women.

The woman carrying the tray was tall and dark-eyed; Tofi would have bet she was one of the women from the deep forests surrounding Hulder City who had rebelled earlier in the year. Atalantahna had put that rebellion down, but also made the economic concessions the forest matriarchies had asked for.

The Atalantahnan government wanted its pound of flesh though. Several hundred Hulder City women now worked as servants in Hela City, and would until they'd repaid their debt.

The Witch seemed interested in making it as humiliating as possible for her captive. The woman's hair was the same shade of auburn as the Witch's. In Hela City, a woman changing her hair color to match that of her mistress was an easy, visual shorthand to tell the rest of the world she was a captive. It was considered a cruel, sadistic, humiliating thing to do to a captive: curse her with a visible sign of her servant status she couldn't hide. The Witch hadn't stopped there either though.

The serving woman was naked, save for her collar. She was barefoot too, and as she slipped into the pool of dim light, Tofi caught sight of the tattoos across her body, specific to Hulder City in the depths of the Zvoruna Forest. The Witch had spared this woman no humiliation, though: he also caught sight of the crescent moon tattooed on the serving woman's ass, a sure sign of the Witch's domination of her.

Tofi cleared his throat and looked at his feet, uncomfortable. Even the lowest serving woman in Hela City held status above a cuckold. He didn't want her to think he was looking at her.

He was, however, too late: his eyes locked onto her green gaze and his stomach turned over.

The serving woman put the tray on the table between Lady Mielikki and the Witch. Tofi saw two goblets there, as well as a gleaming metal pitcher. He also caught sight of a metal brazier, and a few smoldering coals beneath it. A steady stream of smoke rose from the brazier, and even in the faint light Tofi saw it had a distinct green tint to it.

The smell was sharp and, at first, offensive; somewhere between cooking spices and bonfire. He wrinkled his nose, but only for the first few seconds.

After that, he realized, he kind of liked the smell.

Or, rather, really liked it.

The serving woman poured wine from the pitcher into each goblet. She then knelt down and kissed the Witch's boots, all up and down the soles and heels. The Witch did not break conversation with Lady Mielikki.

Tofi's stomach turned over.'

He kissed Lady Mielikki's feet often in the same way. It was a standard ritual in Atalantahna, a way for submissives to show their respect to their superiors. But he actually did feel emotion for Lady Mielikki. The captive woman probably felt none of that for the Witch. The Witch had dyed the woman's hair, kept her naked, and tattooed her mark onto this woman's ass. There was no cruelty left to visit upon her.

And here she still was, kissing the Witch's feet.

The Witch reached down and slapped the woman's ass; the woman promptly stood, bowed, and disappeared between the door again.

But not before shooting Tofi another emerald glare over her shoulder.

Tofi closed his eyes, breathed deep, and saw those dark green eyes on the insides of his eyelids.

He smiled. He felt good. His head seemed to float above his shoulders. The conversation between the Witch and Lady Mielikki seemed to grow distant now, fuzzy.

The Witch twirled an ankle; the leather of her boot moved with the motion of her leg. God, to be able to kiss those feet as the serving woman had. The Witch ran a hand through her scarlet hair, and now Tofi could see it was damp with sweat, as if the temperature in the tavern had increased.

And maybe it had, because Tofi felt hot. Too hot.

And oh, how his head felt fuzzy too. He seemed to see the world through the haze of warm water.

The green smoke curled around him, poked at his face like teasing fingers

(or toes?)

and suddenly closing his eyes seemed like a good idea. A very good idea.

He took a seat on the floor next to Lady Mielikki's stool and remembered no more.

***

He felt the hand on his cheek first. Warm, dry, smooth; a flick of long nails against his skin. Those nails could probably do some serious damage if they wanted to, sure.

But they didn't seem to want to.

He blinked, and swallowed hard.

His head still felt heavy, an unnatural thing on his shoulders. But the Witch's face swam into focus, all perfect, pale skin and dark lips and eyes framed by that fiery red hair. All of it cast into dramatic focus by the flickering torch light of this back room.

She tilted her head, stroked his cheek with one long-nailed thumb, and then offered a close-lipped smile. She leaned in and kissed him -- soft, gentle -- on the lips.

"It's always a pity," she whispered, and kissed him again -- brief, sweet, quiet. "The ones I like. The ones who I have to nullify anyway."

She kissed him once more, and now it was an actual kiss, the full-on, tongue-in-mouth kind of kiss Lady Mielikki only rewarded him with. Tofi knew this was wrong -- knew he should not be so much as looking at another woman, let alone making out with her -- but he was also still feeling the effects of whatever had been in the smoke he'd inhaled.

And those effects felt good. The Witch's lips on his felt good.

He tried to move, but his limbs didn't seem to want to obey his command. He wasn't chained down so far as he could tell -- he'd always imagined he'd be restrained during this ritual -- but he didn't feel like he could move either.

Not without the Witch's permission.

She took a seat on his lap, and put a hand in his hair. Her dark eyes were very, very close to his face. Again, he noticed her hair was damp with sweat, and he could see her perfect skin was too. He could smell it on her now -- the sharp reek of her sweat mixed with her own arousal -- and he thought about how good it would feel to lick it off her, to taste it. From her shoulders and her arms, her breasts, her feet. Her impossibly perfect ass.

He swallowed hard and heard his heartbeat in his ears. Between his legs, his penis had screamed to life, a raging hard-on he was pretty sure could scrape the ceiling before long.

She kissed him again on the lips, once, twice, three times, then the cheek, then his throat, then moved down, her breath hot and tickling in the hollow of his collarbone and the top of his chest.

Only then did he realize he was naked.

"Goddess, you're pretty," she whispered, running a hand across his stomach and the insides of his thighs.

She slipped off his lap and knelt before him, hands still on his legs.

She kissed his balls.

Tofi groaned, head rolled back, his penis harder than he'd ever remembered it. Lady Mielikki had cupped his balls before, but she'd never kissed them.

And the Witch wasn't stopping either.

"Such a perfect penis, too," she whispered, as she ran one long nail up from his balls to his shaft, circled the head.

Tofi wanted to scream. He had to fucking scream.

His body disobeyed him, as it had for the past few minutes.

"I guess it's maybe a little small," she said, measuring his penis with her fingers.

She snickered.

"Maybe smaller than I thought," she said, and now she was laughing. "But still, pretty."

She knelt in front of him, hands on her knees, and looked up at him, her dark eyes massive and begging. As he watched, she opened her mouth -- lips cloaked in a dark red lipstick -- and took the tip of his penis in her mouth.

Fireworks erupted across Tofi's mind. Again, he had -- had -- to fucking scream.

Never in all his life had he ever remembered feeling this desperate to cum. His balls were all but swelling right here, in real time, filling with a load of cum he knew he was going to have to release at some point.

The Witch giggled, then sat on his lap again, put his raging hard-on between her thighs. She kissed him on the cheek.

Tofi sighed and tried to keep himself contained.

Again, she put her hand on his cheek. She snapped her fingers and he blinked; then he found himself on his back, laying on the silk sheets of the bed where he was confined. He tried to sit up onto his elbows but couldn't.

The Witch sat on the edge of the bed and tossed her hair, legs crossed at the knee.

"You know cuckold," she said. "People don't believe me when I tell them this, but I really do want to make this an enjoyable situation for the cuckold before I steal their ability to feel release for the rest of their lives. Especially the ones who seem sweet, who I feel sorry for."

She ran a hand across his stomach again, then up to his chest and across his nipples. Tofi groaned. His hard-on had become knife-blade rigid.

"I'm sure you know that for the ritual to work, I need you to be more aroused than you've ever been in your life," the Witch said. "And that I need to steal your ability to feel relief at that very moment, when you're most aroused. And I'm quite good at that. But I'm not heartless. I very much enjoy what I do but..."

She laid down on the bed next to him and cupped his chin in one hand, turned it toward him, and gave him another gentle kiss on the lips. Her smell -- sweat, arousal -- drowned him as much as whatever smoke he'd inhaled outside.

"...I want you to feel good too."

She kissed him again and glanced down at his raging erection, his feet beyond that. Tofi did as well, although his eyes were pulled more to the toned perfection of her legs -- she had the thighs and calves of a runner, lean, all muscle -- and her boots as well, climbing to her shins. Those boots were black leather, adorned with gleaming buckles and laces. More than any other accessory, footwear denoted class in Hela City, and these boots were fit for royalty.

The Witch made good money doing what she did.

She kissed him again.

"Truth be told, cuckold, I could probably complete the ritual and steal your ability to orgasm right now," she said. "I could bottle your entire sexual freedom in a Cuckold Amulet and hand it back to Mielikki and let her do what she wants with it. Or..."

She paused, a wicked grin overtaking her beautiful face.

"Maybe you'd like to be one of my serving cuckolds here?" She asked. "Have your Amulet on full display for any paying woman of Atalantahna, damned to a lifetime of extreme frustration while my customers -- and even the other cuckolds of the city -- laugh at you? Pay to increase your torment?"

A block of ice tumbled into Tofi's gut. He wanted to scream, to beg her not to do this to him. The plea came out simply as a wordless groan.

The Witch understood though, and she cackled at the noise. Her laughter seemed to fill the small room.

"I asked Mielikki, you know," the Witch said, and reached down to run her fingers along his penis again. "I liked you and I offered to take you on as a servant here. I offered to pay a hefty sum as well."

Tofi blinked. He couldn't believe this.

The Witch smiled. "She turned me down. So you'll escape that fate at least."

She kissed him one final time and then sat up, began toying with her boots.