The Femdom Witch and her Concierge Ch. 02

Magic has waned in the world. In the past, magic was a prevalent and powerful force, wielded by individuals and groups who held significant influence and power. However, as time has passed, the use and practice of magic has diminished greatly. The number of individuals who possess magical abilities has greatly decreased. The remaining practitioners of magic are mainly limited to a small group of women, known as witches.

One such witch was called Meridin. Another was Lenore.

***

It was late in the morning when Meridin called for the horses to stop. Colm blinked and looked around him, taking notice of his surroundings for the first time after hours of mindless riding. The sun was just cresting the tall pines that surrounded the road. Although the roadside was strewn with slightly more granite rocks, this bend of the road appeared no different from any of the others they had passed earlier. Curiosity piqued, Colm wondered why Meridin had called for a stop now, especially since she was determined to make up the distance she was behind the rest of her travelling party and they usually rode through until at least midday.

"This way, I want to show you something." Meridin tied her horse to a tree branch and set off on foot and started off along the granite outcropping. She didn't appear to be following a path but seemed very certain of where she was headed. Meridin climbed down two sets of rocks and stopped to inspect a section of the outcropping. The outcropping was so secluded that even though they were less than a hundred metres from the road, they couldn't see a trace of it.

Colm looked up where Meridin was staring. Carved into the rock was a seated lady. She was painted entirely in whitewash, which made her stand out from the speckled grey of the surrounding granite. The way she was sitting made Colm immediately think of a queen on her throne, although the lady in this carving wore no crown or jewels. She was sitting with her back to the road, facing out over the mountains, or possibly, taking in the view down the mountains to the foothills where Colm and Meridin had met.

"I was probably about your age when I was last here," Meridin said, running her finger across the carving, inspecting the paint. When she was his age? How old could she possibly be, Colm wondered. There wasn't a single mark of age on her, not a grey hair, not a wrinkle.

"Who is she?" Colm asked.

"No one knows. Not who she is, or who carved her, or why. It's a total mystery. But I think you are asking the wrong question."

"It doesn't matter who she was. All that matters is that she's still here. Somebody preserved her. The whitewash from when I was here last would have worn away years ago. Someone must come back and repaint it. But why? It's far enough off the road that no travellers can see it. Only locals would even know it exists. But someone takes the effort, to mix so whitewash, carry it all the way out here and paint her. It's nice to know some people still like to preserve things. So for me, the real question is, who is perserving her?"

"Huh" answered Colm, standing silently in thought for a while. He was still unsure what Meriden saw in him, but maybe this was it? He didn't maintain any roadside artworks, but looking after an inn, with the intention of improving it for the next generation is kind of the same thing, right? He dismissed the though as Meridin ushered them back towards the horses, and took off up the road.

Colm mounted his horse, and set off after her, surprising himself with how quickly he mounted and started riding. A week ago, before he'd left his life in Foothill Rest behind, he'd never ridden a horse before. But thanks to Meridin's patient teaching he was now comfortable in the saddle and he could keep pace with her. Which was just as well, because she set a fast pace. Despite how much he had improved, a nagging corner of Colm's mind still worried he was slowing her down. But if he was she never mentioned it.

Paradoxically, they seemed to travel further in a day as the country got rougher. In their first days riding the road was easy, gently snaking its way up the mountains, curving its way around the occasional hill and the thicker copse of fir trees. They barely made a day's progress over the next two as Meridin taught Colm how to ride.

But the further they rode, the rougher the road and sharper the turns became. Now the terrain was so steep that the road zig-zagged up the steeper slopes as there were no longer ways around them. But they made good time, Meridin estimated they were making 40 kilometres a day, even uphill.

Although she'd been very generous with her coin in buying him a horse and supplies, Meridin was not in such a generous spirit when it came to giving details on where they were going and why. She was never rude or defensive, she just laughed off any attempts Colm made to try to find out more about her. In their first days after setting out from Foothill Rest, she'd deflected any questions about where they were going, by telling him it's more important that they make it, and instructing him to focus more on his riding.

Now that Colm was capable as a rider, he decided to push her slightly harder for information and find out where they were headed at the very least.

"Meridin, how many more days ride is it until we get to our destination?" he asked, careful to keep his questions about her quest to maximise the information he might receive in return.

To his surprise, she answered quickly and thoroughly. "Two more days ride, I'd imagine. Today and tomorrow if we continue this pace." She paused as if it dawned on her just how little time there was until they reached their destination. "It's probably time I fill you in on everything, isn't it? You always think you'll have more time."

"Anyway, you are of course aware that all witches have control over the elemental powers of earth, wind, water and air," Meridin began. "We can control these elements, and we can see the magic in them if someone else is controlling them. A magic fire and a regular fire would look the same to you, but to a witch like me, we can see the magic coursing through it."

"These earthquakes are just like that. There is magic written all over them. And incredibly powerful magic at that. Even if all three witches of my circle all weaved earth elemental magic at the same time, we'd barely have enough power to knock down a house. But this magic, these earthquakes are being felt from coast to coast in these lands. It's a staggering amount of magic power being generated."

Colm had felt the earthquakes of course. Everyone had. But there was nothing he could do about them so he did nothing, apart from securing the breakables in the inn so they wouldn't fall and shatter. Truthfully he'd never put a second thought into what was causing them, or why.

"The first thing we had to do was find where they were coming from," Meridin continued. "So we spread out to all the points of the compass. I started here, to the east. My other thrall, a former guard named Gaven began far to the west, Lenore, a brown witch started to the south, and Romlyn the third witch of our circle to the north. We're getting closer now, today we should catch up with the first of my sister witches."

She continued explaining "Each time there was an earthquake we each moved inwards. Whoever felt the earthquake first moved the least, whoever felt it last moved the furthest. It's like using triangulation on a map. Or quadrangulation in our case. Eventually, we'll converge on the centre."

"Before you meet my sister witches I probably should warn you about them. Lenore, who we should catch up to shortly, is lovely. She's a Brown Witch, dedicated to studying. But I should warn you, she's very inquisitive. She'll ask you a million questions about every aspect of your life. And that's not an exaggeration."

"Romlyn, the other witch is less nice. She has real issues with men and likes punishing them," Meridin laughed. "She really, really likes punishing them."

Ahead of them on the road, Colm spotted a woman on horseback, her telltale pointed hat giving her away as a witch. Colm found himself desperately hoping it was the nicer of the two, he would much rather answer questions than meet a witch who liked punishing men.

Once they caught up to her, Colm's fears were allayed, the witch was a short, plump lady with a cheerful face. After they'd dismounted, the new witch introduced herself as Lenore and set about lighting a small fire with a wave of her hand and started brewing some tea.

"What type of tea do you prefer, Colm? I have over 20 varieties."

Colm was unsure how to answer. Even in his life running an inn and serving hundreds of differnet guests, he'd only come across two different varieties, the one everyone called 'tea' and the other one made out of nettles that supposedly was a medicine. After a moment he said he'd just have whatever she was having.

Twenty kinds of tea? She must be well studied and well travelled to have that many different varieties Colm thought. He looked over his teacup at the two witches and was struck by how different they were from each other.

If Meridin was the picture of a City Witch, Lenore screamed Woodland Witch. She was dressed head to toe in the colour brown, making it look like she'd grown from the earth. Every part of her body was a curve, even her curly hair. Her short height made her wide hips and large breasts even more prominent. She wore a plain brown dress and her wide brown hat intended more to keep the sun off her than to be fashionable. There were only two things on her with any colour other than brown, a necklace with thick beads that looked more like berries than wood, and a ring of flowers around the band of her hat.

Colm tried to quiet his innkeeper instinct to try and anticipate her needs, but couldn't help but notice the ink stains that covered Lenore's hands. He had to stop himself from offering to find her some paper and writing supplies.

Meridin decided they'd ridden far enough for one day and decided to set up camp here.

True to Meridin's warning, Lenore was a nervous bundle of energy, bouncing from one question to the next, barely leaving Colm enough room to take a breath before she asked the next. Where was he from, how did he meet Meridin, and what did he do for work? When Colm answered that he'd been an innkeeper, Lenore's eyes lit up, and she started digging through her saddlebags, lifting out a book. She opened it to a page where Colm could make out the heading 'questions for innkeepers' followed by what seemed to be a long list of handwritten questions.

After spying the long list of questions, Meridin, who until now had been sitting silently, allowing Lenore to ask question after question, called an end to the discussion.

"Colm, come and join me in my bedroll," she ordered. "These questions might have to wait for another day, my dear Lenore."

Colm stood up and followed Meridin to her bed, wondering if Meridin was still going to ask for the same sexual favours as when it was just the two of them camping alone. Surely she wouldn't ask him while Lenore was within earshot he wondered. Would she?

Every night Meridin and Colm had been on the road had followed the same routine. Meridin called Colm over to her bed, handed him a bottle of sweet-smelling oil and asked him to use it to massage her. He then massaged her back, her legs, her buttocks, and anywhere that she was sore from the day's ride. But the massages never ended there. Meridin often then asked for a kiss on her neck, or for him to continue his massaging up her thighs. Invariably, it always led to the same thing, Meridin pushing his head down between her thighs, Colm eating her pussy until she came. Then Meridin would roll over and go to sleep, but not before telling Colm to go back to his bedroll.

"But Meridin, what about Lenore?" Colm asked in a calm voice as if trying to hide his nervousness. "Are we still going to do your massage with all of its..." he paused, looking for the right word. "extras... with her lying right next to us?"

Meridin laughed. "Massage with 'extras.' That's good, I think I'll use that. And yes, Lenore won't mind. She'll just be curious about exactly what we're doing is all, she might even ask you about it later" Meridin laughed. "So get to it. I'd like a massage. But I need those 'extras'."

Later that night, after Colm had finished giving Meridin her massage with extras, he got out of her bed and headed back to his own. For a moment he was sure he saw a candlelight beside Lenore's bedroll and her hand hastily scrawling into a book with a quill, but as soon as he glanced that way the light was extinguished.

The next morning they mounted their horses and took to the road again. If Lenore heard what services Colm performed for Meridin in the night, she did not indicate it now. Colm noted that Meridin was strangely not hurried this morning. Every other day they had travelled she was the first one up, setting the pace, rushing them along. But now they were within a day's ride of their destination, she was strangely reluctant to get moving.

He asked "why aren't you so keen to get moving today? Is there something dangerous ahead of us?"

Meridin just laughed. "No, nothing dangerous. Nothing at all, in truth. I would have once said there was not a single thing of note in this whole region, but I guess now there's a whole lot of nothing, and earthquakes."

"Oh well," she continued. "No use in delaying now. If we make a good pace today we can sleep in a real bed tonight at the very least."

With that, they kicked dirt over the coals to extinguish the last of the fire, mounted their horses and took off up the road.

They rode for the full day, the sun was low in the sky by the time they reached the village outskirts.

"Wilton" Lenore read from the large sign on the roadside, her eyes then turning upwards as if trying to remember something. "Main exports of timber, sheep and stone. And if I'm not mistaken the hometown of our dear Meridin."

Colm tried to keep his face passive but secretly could sense an opportunity to find something out about who Meridin was, or where she was from. Cautiously he ventured to ask "If this is your hometown, do you know anyone in the town who might be able to help us?"

"Oh God no," Meridin replied. "I left here over 200 years ago, everyone I once knew is long gone."

200 years ago! Colm couldn't believe it. She'd often hinted she was older than she looked, but 200 years? That was so much older than he had anticipated. And she may be even older than that, depending on how old she was when she left the town. Although he might have looked a little foolish for asking the question, he was very glad to have heard her answer and receive a useful piece of information about who she was.

Meridin led them through the town, directly towards the Inn. If the town had changed at all since the last time Meridin was here, she gave no sign. Colm doubted the town had changed much over that time, the town was small, and the houses looked old.

Most of the buildings appeared to be made out of local stone, with steeped roofs. Colm couldn't have a proper look at the town in the gloom, but thankfully all the buildings appeared to be still standing, but that might not remain the case if these earthquakes continue.

When they arrived at the inn, it was fully dark, but the sign reading 'The Big Angelfish' was still illuminated by the lights within.

Colm couldn't stop himself from wandering around the inn, counting the rooms, looking at which meals they served, feeling equal parts wistful and judgemental. The young couple who ran the place seemed friendly enough, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that this was just another establishment which wouldn't need an innkeeper for several decades.

The inn itself was somewhat different to what he had expected. It was much larger than he'd expected from a town of this size. Half of the common room went unused with large timber tables stacked on top of each other taking up most of the space, and an entire corridor of rooms that were now used for storage, not paying guests. Whoever had built this place must have drastically overestimated the custom they would be receiving.

Once he'd looped his way around the whole inn, Lenore called him over to the table in the common room she'd commandeered as a makeshift desk.

"I wanted to ask you something." Lenore said, adding quickly "For my book." Her ink-stained fingers were already flicking open a notebook. Colm remembered her list of questions for innkeepers and sat down, preparing himself to answer them. But what she asked took him by surprise.

Lenore spoke quickly, blurting out sentence after sentence as if trying to jump as quickly as possible to Colm's answer. "Last night, when we were camping. I heard you. You and Meridin, I mean. I heard you massage her. I heard you go down on her, I heard her cum. But I didn't hear you cum. Is that what happened? You served her and she didn't reciprocate? But from what Meridian tells me, you like it that way?" she asked directly, pausing for breath and tapping her quill on the page, ready to write down whatever Colm answered.

Colm's face flashed red. For a moment he was too ashamed to look her in the face, but once he did, he realised that the only emotion that was showing was curiosity. He expected her to mock him for giving satisfaction but receiving none, as most people would, but Lenore was a picture of curiosity, she seemed to genuinely just want to know if he did enjoy it.

Against his better wishes, he found her curiosity so disarming that he answered her honestly, without holding anything back that some people might find embarrassing.

Even though he knew the room was empty apart from the two of them, he still nervously glanced around the other tables to make sure no one was listening.

"To be honest, I love going down on a woman. Sometimes, it's enough to make me cum on its own. Just being between her thighs, hearing her cum, feeling her cum under my tongue. I can't help it. It overwhelms my senses, every part of me is engaged in giving her pleasure. At that moment she is all I can see, taste or touch. It's intoxicating."

Lenore looked fascinated, she was eagerly scrawling down notes into her book, which made him feel more comfortable telling her more.

"But that's only half the answer. The other half is why I don't mind if she doesn't reciprocate." He paused for a second as if trying to find the words.

"For a while, I didn't understand why I liked it until once Meridin called it 'tease and denial', which made a lot of sense to me."

"Every time I've had sex with her has been amazing. But one of the best parts is this blissful moment when you are at the absolute height of arousal when you aren't sure what's going to happen next. Will she let you cum? Will she unmask our bond so I can feel both our orgasms at once? Or will she decide that I don't get to cum at all? It's an incredible feeling, and Meridin is always willing to drag that moment out for as long as possible."

Even just talking about it was turning Colm on. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. Lenore sat silently, writing note after note. She looked enthralled in the conversation, and her silence left him ample room to keep talking.

The silence from Lenore was dangerous. Colm rarely spoke about himself or what he liked, but now he was being lulled into sharing his deep desires with a lady he'd only just met.

"But there have to be some times when I don't get to cum. Otherwise, the illusion is broken. It builds the thrill of the next time when I do get to cum. It makes the orgasms that much stronger, knowing there are some times when I don't get to have one."