Witches Three

Formin had known that getting involved with witches would be difficult. He hadn't realized it would involve so much scrubbing as well.

The apprentice sorcerer sighed, setting the cauldron on its side to join over a dozen other pieces of crockery. Nearly piled to the curving ceiling, he was getting close to finishing the washing. He looked at it forlornly. When he was recruited by the local village coven, he'd anticipated more... well, magic and whatnot. Whatnot like dancing naked around the fires. Laying with demons. Cursing people you didn't like. But it turned out that most sorcery involved dispensing medicines and herbs to local village women, occasional midwifery, and the odd afternoon in the forests resetting the wards.

But there were so many chores to be done.

To be fair, he understood. There were three witches in the house. And there was plenty of naked fun being had. But three young women of a sorcerous bend didn't exactly lend themselves well to proper housekeeping. Formin half expected the reason the coven had taken him on was to get a servant. Gods knew he hadn't learned much magic in his two-week apprenticeship, despite there being three witches to learn from.

"Mmmm... Formin?"

Formin stopped scrubbing a particularly stubborn pot and turned his head. Speak of the devil.

Lucrecia sagged against the doorframe to the kitchen, the witch impossibly buxom and 'sky clad' as she liked to term it. Only her long hair covered her, and it was woefully inadequate. Skin pale as cream, she could rival a holstaur in her bustiness, her breasts near as big as Formin's head, her hips wide as a goblin brood maid's. Her hair hung in long braids, woven with flowers, her face sleepy. Into the poppy juice, if Formin was to judge.

Formin swallowed hard. Despite his time here, he still wasn't used to such shameless nakedness. "Y-yes, mistress?"

Lucrecia's arm climbed higher up the doorframe, her body stretching further against it, her hip rubbing against the smooth, hard wood. "Mmm. I like that," she murmured.

"Sorry?"

"Got a job for... you..." the witch said. "Need some help in my chambers. A spell..."

"Oh, I ah... I still have some of the dishes to do," he said.

"Mmm. Okay. When... you're done..."

"Of course."

With another lazy smile she pulled herself away from the doorway, turning, her ass hinted through peeks of her hair as her hips swung with every step.

Formin took a deep breath, shook his head, tried to ignore the sudden tightness in his pants, and returned to his work. He wondered what she needed? Lucrecia rarely asked for his assistance. To be fair, she was rarely around. She was the chosen midwife of the village, and was often running about or mixing potions. Actually, now that he thought about it, she'd been very busy of late. And not just with delivering babies. It seemed to him she'd been giving out a lot more herbs to wives and girlfriends than usual.

Peculiar, he mused as his hands dove into the soapy water. What could it be?

Arms suddenly looped around his neck. Formin stiffened as he felt a soft body press against his back, lips near his ear say, "Hey pet."

Formin twisted his head around, already knowing what he'd find. Dark hair swept back by golden combs, an impish face with teasing eyes and a pair of twitching black cat ears.

"N-Nadia!"

The witch giggled, kissed his cheek and pulled back, her gypsy gown loose around her modest frame, golden necklaces hanging around her neck, rings on her fingers that clicked and rang like little bells whenever the catgirl moved. She stood arrogantly before him, her eyes bright and mischievous, as much an opposite of Lucrecia as could be, which is likely why the pair rarely got along. She often told fortunes in the village, predicting harvests, menaces, and selling charms to those who wanted them.

"I need a hand with something, pet," the catgirl said. "Got a special job for you. You're free, right?"

"I uh, I'm actually in the middle of something. And afterwards I have to-"

"Great! See you soon," Nadia giggled, turning with a swish of skirts and her flicking tail to dance out of the room, her rings chiming and necklaces swinging.

Formin sighed, and turned back to the dishes. Nadia rarely listened to him, dragging him along to town when she needed him. Having him amuse her, compliment her, praise her. She was a handful, but it was impossible to be mad at her. Though it was a little degrading to be on the receiving end of her amusements.

And now she wanted to see him in her room. Was it to clean the place? Formin winced. He'd seen the inside of her room once or twice. It was like a tornado had ripped through at the best of times.

Sighing, he put the last of the dishes away and dried his hands. Well, he'd best get to it. Draping the towel back over the rack, Formin left the kitchen, the living room of the large house basking in the sunlight through the rounded windows. Clutter crowded the place, along with castoff clothes, books, and herbs hung up to dry. Formin sighed, shoulders stooping. At this rate, he'd never have time to learn magic. Was he an apprentice or a maid? Shaking his head, he moved towards the stairs.

"Apprentice..."

Formin froze at that sibilant whisper. His breath hitched and he slowly turned his head.

There was only one bedroom on the ground floor, owing to its owner disliking the stairs. The door was open now, the darkness within faintly lit with the glow of a lamp. Too little to see anything but the pale gleam of copper.

Copper that shifted.

"M-miss Jadis?" Formin stammered.

"Come here," the sibilant voice purred.

Formin felt his legs move towards the room before he could really process it. Not that it really mattered. A command from the den mother had to be obeyed. It was she who had recruited Formin to the coven as an apprentice, and just the thought of the powerful sorceress made his face warm.

Into the cool gloom of the room he walked. Soft rugs shuffed under his feet. Drawn curtains didn't let in even a gleam of light. Dribbly candles had been lit near an altar in the corner, framing a massive mirror of buffed bronze. Yet this was not the metallic gleam that had caught his eye. That belonged to the serpentine coils which shifted atop a large couch.

Jadis was a lamia. A creature rare and moody, rarely concerning itself with the outside world. Formin suspected half the reason Jadis tolerated her two fellow witches was that they did all the public facing work, leaving her to brood and cast her sorcery in solitude. Formin often saw her, usually while delivering her meals or components for spells. Or books. Jadis was constantly ordering books from town and abroad, and Formin was often sent by her to the market and peddlers in order to acquire any interesting volumes they had. The results were all around him. Books piled in erratic towers or heaped in corners. The air had the dry smell of old paper and strange, exotic spices that Formin now associated with the lamia herself. They made his head ache, the fumes of burning incense coiling in the air, twisting like ribbons of scent and smoke.

Jadis's serpentine lower half spilled over the couch and around it, while atop it she lounged, as easy as a queen of the ancient east. She wore an amulet with a great eye upon her chest, her large, smooth breasts the burnished tan of bronze. Her face was strikingly lovely, her sharp features framing a pair of eyes ringed like dilating circles, lidded to lessen their power for the moment. She was near naked, only wearing a shawl trimmed with gold, one that barely hid her breasts.

As Formin stepped inside the door shut behind him with a click, making him jump, tense. But he couldn't look away from the indolent serpent laying before him, her eyes opening a little more, sucking in his attention.

"You ah, summoned me, mistress?" Formin said.

Jadis stirred, rising a bit from the couch, the fluttering glow of the candles glittering across her serpentine form. "I did, apprentice. Please, sit."

"Um..." Formin said, trying to look around the room for a seat.

"Here," Jadis crooned, and Formin yelped as he suddenly found her tail wrapping around his waist, giving him a tug. He fell among her coils, bouncing off the firm flesh and finding himself laying back on her coppery lower body as if sinking into a massive cushion. Jadis's upper body lay beside him, her smile amused.

"There we are."

"I ah... M-mistress, I was asked to-"

"Hush, apprentice. I have need of you. And I am the den mother. My needs supersede any other you have."

Formin closed his mouth, his protests dying, for Jadis's eyes had opened more, those ringed pupils staring into his with unutterable potency. His pulse eased. His limbs grew heavy as if being filled with sand.

"Y-yes," he breathed.

"Good boy," she said, her hand rising, brushing his cheek, sending a shiver of pure pleasure racing through him. "I knew I could count on you, apprentice. It's why I invited you to join us. I saw something in you. Something... useful. Something... malleable. Something..." Her eyes opened a little more. "...Obedient..."

Formin blinked slowly, his thoughts slipping away as he gazed into the lamia's eyes. "Y-yes, mistress."

"Good boy."

Her felt her tail slowly tighten around him, draw him nearer. He offered no resistance as he came close to her, pulled against her body, the lamia lifting herself, looming over him.

"You see, apprentice," she said. "I have recently read a book of most interesting magic. A spell of enthralling. It's said to be very potent, but as you can imagine, such a spell would be difficult to test for me. I have so few subjects to call on. Which is why I wanted you to... stop by."

"A-anything for the den mother," Formin said, tensing as her coils squeezed him.

"That's what I love to hear. Now just relax, my handsome apprentice. And... drift..."

It wasn't hard. Formin had never had much resistance against the lovely women of the coven. The trio each had their charms and delighted in teasing him whenever the opportunity presented itself, which it often did. Many a time Formin had spent his mornings, afternoons, and evenings in the woods, cock in hand, furiously rubbing out the erection summoned by a mischievous touch or glance of lovely form.

He felt his thoughts growing clouded. Misty. But his awareness didn't waver, for Jadis had moved in closer, her eyes opening more, and the rings consumed his attention.

"Just relax, apprentice," Jadis said, her voice growing low, almost song-like, the S's drawn out like a lazy stroke across his cock. "Just relax. It's so relaxing to be in the grasp of the mistress, isn't it?"

"Yes," Formin breathed, the tension in his body easing as if her words massaged them out.

"Of course. This spell is built on trust, sweet apprentice. And you trust your mistress, don't you?"

"Yes," Formin said. "Trust... you..."

"Mhmm. So easy. Almost too easy," Jadis purred, her coils lazily squeezing him, making Formin gasp. "But that's fine. For I only need you... open. Only need you... willing. When I first saw you, I knew you would be the perfect servant for us. So willing to help. So... handy..."

Formin groaned as Jadis gently cupped his bulge, her hand running up along it, rubbing the tip through his pants. "Mmm. Very handy," she purred.

"Ah... ah..." Formin gasped, his cheeks heating, his lips parting, panting.

"Does it feel good, apprentice?"

"Y-yessss," he groaned.

"Of course it does. Look deeper into my eyes, apprentice. Look deeper. Sink into them. Surrender to them. To me. Feel my magic. Feel my spell..."

Formin felt magical alright. His cock was absolutely throbbing in his pants. Jadis's words seemed to squeeze and massage him mind, wringing it of any thought but of her. He felt so confined by his clothes. By her nearness. He wanted to feel her scales on his naked skin.

Jadis smiled, feeling him grow limp in her grasp. She licked her lips. "Good boy," she breathed. "In fact, such a good boy, I think the... next component for my spell is needed. You've been wearing far too much around the place, apprentice. I bought something much more fitting for you. A lovely loin cloth. I'm sure the others will appreciate it."

"Would... love... it..." Formin breathed.

"Then I shall fetch it. Now, where did I put that..."

Formin felt her body loosen around him, slither off him. He whimpered as her head moved, but she quickly dipped back into view, kissing his cheek, her forked tongue flicking. "Be right back," she whispered.

Formin groaned in adoration as he heard the door open and the soft, papery sound of the lamia's scales sliding over the hardwood and out of the room. He lay there on the floor, amongst the books and pungent unguents, the incense tickling his nose and sinking him deeper under the spell of the lamia's eyes.

"So here you are!"

Formin blinked dully as Nadia's face appeared above him. The catgirl was grinning, her many necklaces gently chiming as she leaned over him. "I was starting to wonder where you got to, pet. Didn't I tell you to come straight to me?"

"S-sorry..." he said sluggishly.

"It's okay, pet. Because after tonight, I think you're gonna be much more obedient to your mistress. Now come on! Up we go."

Her hand took his, and Formin found himself rising, following without resistance as the witch led him. He felt shame and reluctance to leave the room, for mistress was bound to return, but resistance simply never entered his mind. His empty, empty mind.

Giggling to herself, Nadia fairly danced up the stairs, her charms and bangles jangling like her own personal percussion band. The sparkling metal was strangely attractive to Formin, his eyes entranced by their shining, particularly a gold band set with a red stone on her feline tail, every flick making the gem gleam beautifully.

Formin came to himself somewhat when Nadia opened the door to her room and pulled him inside. A cauldron bubbled in a corner and bits of clothes and cloth had been scattered all over the place. Blankets formed more a nest than a bed under the bright light of a round window, while across the walls were spread dreamcatchers, charms, and so many knickknacks a magpie would be jealous.

"Here we go! Wow, pet, looks like Jadis did a number on you," Nadia giggled, eying him, licking her lips. "Mmm. Gonna have to thank her later. But for now, how about you strip for me?"

"Okay," Formin said. There was still just enough of him conscious to blush as he tugged away his clothes, Nadia giving a low whistle as he revealed his toned chest, his belt clinking as he tugged down his pants, leaving him in nothing but his blatantly tenting boxers.

"Niiiiiice," Nadia breathed. "But all the way, pet. Let's see the rest."

Formin reddened further, but he obeyed. Because a good slave obeyed. His thumbs hooked at his waistband and tugged that down too, leaving him standing, naked, bare for all to see, his cock jutting obediently out.

"That's real nice," Nadia said, her tail swishing with excitement. She grinned at him suddenly. "Aw, are you blushing? Well, don't worry. I got something real special for you to wear."

She turned with a flutter of skirts and jangle of jewelry, bending down to search through a chest at the end of her bed. Instantly Formin's eyes were glued to her rear, watching her ass press against the skirt as she worked. His breathing began to grow short, his cock twitching at the sight as her tail flicked teasingly.

"Now where did I... Ah! Here it is!"

Nadia rose, twirling about. Formin looked blankly at what she held.

A red leather collar with crystal studs encircling it.

Something stirred in Formin's head. An idea he was terribly close to grasping, but his empty mind couldn't quite put the facts together. His body, however, had no such problems, and his cock ached with a sudden desire that throbbed through him from balls to stomach like a lead weight.

"Been waiting for ages to do this," Nadia giggled, sauntering towards him, hips swinging lazily. "Ever since I first saw you come in, I knew you'd be just perfect. But had to get this nice and properly fitted. A good boy needs the proper kind of collar. And now, it's finally ready."

Formin stared at the collar. Who was the good boy she was talking about? Did Nadia have a dog? He thought he would have remembered. And why was she getting so close? Why was she sliding it around his neck?

Then he heard the latch click, felt the tightness around his throat.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

Formin groaned as he felt the spell of the collar crackle across his skin like a surge of pure dominance. He tensed, gasping, every muscle tightening at the sudden sense of alien control. A certainty that commands now existed he could not disobey. Nadia giggled, drawing back, unlooping a leash that now met his collar.

"Down, pet," Nadia said.

At once Formin dropped down to his hands and knees, blinking up at her blankly, his hypnotically addled mind whirling with the sudden compulsion of the collar.

Nadia squealed, clapping her hands in excitement. "Bark!"

"Woof!" Formin said at once.

"Oh, good boy! And now," Nadia cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling wickedly as she hiked up her skirt, revealing the fact was wearing nothing underneath. She gave his leash a light tug. "Lick."

A pulse of compulsion radiated from his collar. Formin at once obeyed, the urge irresistible. He crawled forward, eyes riveted on the slick folds of the catgirl, her shaven pussy teasingly surrounded with tattoos of arcane glyphs. With a tug of the leash, Nadia pulled Formin against her folds, the apprentice's nose pressed against her mons and one of the more elaborate sigils. Without a word more needed, Formin began to lick.

"Ah!" Nadia gasped as his skillful tongue delved into her hot box, teasing up along her tender folds with quick, adoring strokes. She moaned, her head tilting back, her hips rocking forward to find the perfect angle in which to enjoy his tongue. "Oh f-fuuuuuck!" she moaned. "Goooood pet. Oh fuck yes. L-lick my pussy. Lick mistress's cunt like... mmm... like that. Ah. Ah. Oh fuck yes. Knew you'd... you'd have a good tongue. Good boys a-always do."

Formin tingled with her praise, his cock positively throbbing beneath him. But he didn't touch himself. Some ingrained command from the collar or his latent hypnosis demanded he not satisfy himself with his hand. That was only for mistress to do.

And he must obey mistress.

The need of the slave and the obedience of the pet sloshed around in his mind, drowning his thoughts under the combined weight. There was no thought of resistance. No flash of pride. He was a good pet. A good slave. A good boy. He found the perfect equilibrium between the roles. His tongue glided up along Nadia's pussy, finding the delicate pearl of her clit. He flicked it, and Nadia gasped, bucked, yanking his leash and pulling him hard against her.

"Y-yes!" she gasped. "Fuck! Right there! Lick me there you f-fucking slut! Oh good pet. Gooooood pet! Oh yes. G-goddess yesssss," she groaned, riding her pussy on his face. "Ooooh, you have no... ah... no f-fucking idea how long I wanted this. But had to... ah... had to make the collar just mnnn! Just right. Couldn't have you being a b-bad boy. But moment I saw you, imagined what you'd look like c-collared and u-under me. Oh fuck yesssssss!"

Formin was barely listening. The whole of his being was focused on pleasuring the catgirl's clit. He sucked on it. Lashed it. Adored it and kissed it as his face was pulled against her, the tightness of the collar making his breath come hot and gasping, steaming her mound and the sigils tattooed there. Their purpose unknown. Unimportant. Only this mattered.

Only this moment.

Only pleasing the mistress.