tagSci-Fi & FantasyThe Fall of a Witch

The Fall of a Witch



"Mage," her voice was coldly authoritative, "you have bewitched me these many months…"

The mage was dragged forth by a pair of armored guards and cast to his knees before the dais where the witch stood. His hands were bound together in iron shackles behind his back as he glared up at her. His resentment undisguised on his face, he bowed his head so as to concentrate on his objectives and not to see the woman stepping out of the shadows before him. Still, he inadvertently glimpsed her as he lowered his head. She wore some dark clinging gown that seemed part of the shadows surrounding her. The image of her burned in his mind as he stared fixedly at the floor.

She dismissed the guards with a subtle gesture. Her gaze never left the figure kneeling before her as the guards clattered out of the room. From this dark, cobwebbed room she directed her legion.

He felt his skin crawling. This was where she sent forth her instructions to the army that she led. All of these sorcerers of the northern territories operated thus, sending soldiers forth to die while the sorcerers masterminded these struggles from afar. He felt his lip curling into an involuntary sneer at the thought. Corruption. An easy way to win more land. Her kind were unrelenting in their quest for property and power, everyone from his lands knew that. And now these northern sorcerers were no longer struggling amongst themselves but leading their armies south. The mage had been watching this onslaught against his neighbors carefully. If the kingdoms above his fell, his own lands would be in dire straits.

He heard movement before him, but still refused to look up. Suddenly he realized the witch was kneeling right before him. The mage stared at the hem of her dress, but she lifted his chin with a surprisingly gentle hand. Her eyes tried to search his, but he kept his eyes downcast and glued to the floor. He had no wish to tip his hand by letting her read his eyes, if she had that particular skill. He had no idea why she had brought him here, but he was determined to use this event to his advantage. She was foolish to dismiss the guards. Those brutish hulks he did not struggle against because their power over him was quite a physical threat. This little witch was a different matter. He doubted she had either the physical or magical power to keep him bound here if he chose to escape. But for the moment he chose to bide his time, waiting to see how this would play out and how many of her weaknesses she would reveal.

He had seen her face but once before this day. A few months ago, the southern mages had met in conference and had conjured the images of the northern sorcerers so that the mages of the south would know their enemies. It was a convenient way to spy, selecting an individual and viewing their actions as though through the eyes of an onlooker. Convenient, but he did not have that particular talent, so only saw these images through the courtesy of his fellow mages. He had seen her face that day, this witch kneeling before him. He had seen her looking so frightened and distraught that day that he had almost lost the will to hate her in that instant. Fortunately, in the months between then and now, he had seen enough of her army's actions to have regained his bitter resolve.

Come to recall, she was really quite attractive. He would enjoy this opportunity to extract information from her. Seduction was a favorite game with him, and he was quite good at it. Every reasonably skilled mage knew that if a woman was truly frightened or unwilling, a little soothing mind magic would make her more amenable. But this particular mage lacked most of the mind-magics that some of his fellow mages had. Generally this was of little concern, what he lacked in mind-magic he more than made up for with prowess in the flashy magics that manipulated the physical world. Besides, he always enjoyed the challenge of trying to seduce a woman by getting her to abandon to her desires by a lover's skills alone, without any magical manipulation. There was nothing he found more arousing than getting a woman to go from resisting shrew to wild wanton under the persuasion of his deft hands. His only chance to read a person's mind was when the other was in the throes of passion. Only then were they unguarded enough that he could pass the defenses naturally present even in the minds of the most unmagical. So his favorite game had added benefits. This foolish witch had brought him here for whatever reason, but he would turn the game on her soon enough. Once he had enough information from listening, he would shed these flimsy iron shackles. He would try to seduce her and then find out the rest of the details by exploring her thoughts, if he could.

Lost in his reverie, the mage failed to notice that the witch had dropped her hand away from his chin and was backing up frantically now. Had she heard his thoughts? He hoped not, if she knew his strength she would have those guards in here right now.

"But how do I know you aren't bewitching me now?" She spoke as if to herself. "How do I know this isn't part of your plan to spy on me?" her voice had a frantic edge. She scrambled backwards up the dais stairs and returned to the shadows. "How do I know you aren't influencing my thoughts as I speak?" she cried out desperately from somewhere nearby. Violently she staggered out of the shadows again towards him. "I have had enough of coercion for my lifetime! This will end!" She grabbed his throat and raised him to his feet with an unreal strength, digging her nails into his skin. The witch snarled and produced a dagger from her boot. She dragged the mage up onto the dais, saying, "You will die for your manipulations. At least I will have power over you, mage."


This woman was clearly unstable. Fortunately, it appeared she could not read his thoughts and she was not aware of his lack of mind-magic. He felt somehow sure she would not kill him of her own volition, yet he feared that if she were perhaps insane or indeed manipulated by some outside force she might end his life after all. Unable to free himself from her vise-like grip on his throat, he could only stall for time. He was forced to abandon his plan to not speak, he could still learn much without truly tipping his hand. He gasped, "What are you talking about?"

"The prophecy!" she shrieked, as if he should know. She dropped him back to the floor and he would have rubbed his throat to reassure himself that it was still intact save that the bonds still held his hands fast behind him. "The oracle said that it would be you who would make me fall!" The knife clattered to the ground as she fell to her knees before him and buried her face in her hands. "As if these other northern sorcerers weren't bad enough, with their greed… forcing me to commit my lands and people to their rapacious land grabbing," she mumbled into her hands under the cascades of her hair.

The mage's interest was suddenly piqued, was it true? Was she not in league with the rest of the northern sorcerers? Was she coerced into joining their campaign? His mind recalled unwillingly how frightened she looked that day the mages of the south had shown him her image.

"Why must I be attacked from afar as well? Undermined by your spying or whatever it is you are doing to me…" the witch trailed off. "At least," she said as though trying to reason with him, "if you don't contribute to the resistance in south, then less people will have to die. Don't you see that? These northern sorcerers aren't going to stop for anything, even if you manage to take me out. In fact you'll only be making it easier for them, with me out of the way-"

"Woman," the mage interjected with disgust, looking up at last, "I haven't done a thing to you." His face was a mask of sheer exasperation at her rantings. "I haven't put any spells on you, I haven't manipulated your thoughts by magic, and I haven't even spied on you!" The witch looked as though she wanted to believe him. He continued, "I've watched what your armies have done to the lands just north of mine, but to protect my lands and people! You of the north are notorious for treading hard on the backs of your subjects and I will protect my people from that treatment at all costs!" He saw that her downcast eyes were filling with tears. She looked so powerless. Conflicting feelings rose unwelcome within him, to protect this pathetic creature, or to conquer her for himself. Either thought ridiculously distracting at this moment.

"Its not me!" she cried helplessly. "My people had been well treated and happy under my father's rule."

"And then you stepped in?" he sneered, looking up at her. Her eyes flashed with indignation for a moment and then were washed over with some strange mix of guilt, humiliation, defeat and despair. She looked like the victim type, she would be easy for him to manipulate if he chose. But sexually, that type gave up too easily, not as much of a challenge for his skills.

"And then my northern neighbors stopped their internal wars and formed an alliance. They killed my father, took all the women of this court for their carnal pleasures and left only me. I only have any power at all, because they allow me to continue. I am a pawn to them, and when I try to protest their policies, they threaten to dethrone me… or worse. I have done what little I can from within their rules, but it is so little…"

Apparently she was used to playing the victim. Yet it might be a ruse. Distrustful, the mage replied, "So you just want me to let down my border guards and let you waltz in with arms open? Is that why you've brought me here, to play your sob story and hope I'll just let you have my land so you don't have to waste any resources struggling to get it?"

"No! I brought you here to stop you from fulfilling the prophecy!" she cried. "I won't have you causing my downfall! If I could persuade you not to work against me…" she trailed off seeing his look of pure irritation.

He shook his head slowly. "I will not abandon my lands to you," he said with contempt.

She looked fearful at the conviction in his voice, "Then I have no choice but to kill you."


Clearly he wasn't going to get any more information out of her this way. He decided it was time to show her who was really holding all the cards. The iron shackles that held his hands together shattered with the barest magical effort.

The witch's eyes widened with fear and she looked as though she were about to scream or call in her guards but the mage had already crossed the distance between them and had one hand across her mouth. He moved behind her keeping his hand on her mouth. A snap of his fingers had the curtain behind the dais fall to the floor as one of the cords that held it there reappeared in his hand. Quickly he bound her hands behind her back. While the witch was frantically trying to use her teeth to draw blood from the hand covering her mouth, the mage grabbed the dagger she had dropped earlier. First he used it to cut a strip of fabric from the witch's skirt. He tied this strip across her mouth to gag her and save his hand from getting chewed on. Now he had to find a suitable place to work his skills on her without being disturbed. Most rulers had a chamber near their throne where they could do paperwork or rest between parts of court.

Still standing behind her, he brought the dagger hand up around to her throat, his arm encircling her body. He could feel the soft curve of her breast under his arm, with only a thin layer of this soft, velvety fabric covering it. "Your throne room, witch, take me there now and we had best not be seen!"

The witch complied, her head bowed slightly. He shook his head in disappointment, victim-types surrendered too easily. A woman with spitfire indignation would turn into a woman of fiery passion when treated right. This would be no fun at all if she was going to be so meek.

He kicked open the door, and forced the witch to go in first in case there was some sort of booby-trap. There was none. He tossed a mage-light in one corner and quickly locked the door behind him. By the soft blue glow of the mage light, he could see a desk, a closet, several files and bookshelves, and a soft couch in the little room. The couch was long enough to lay down upon, but he had other plans. He sat the witch down on the floor. She looked confused, but more dangerous than before. Her eyes had lost the victim look and were flashing now. Perhaps she had only been numbly reacting to shock before and was not truly so weak spirited. He used the still-lengthy cord of the curtain to bind one ankle to the leg of her desk and the other ankle was tied on a longer piece of rope to the bindings that held her wrists together. Something like a horse's hobble, just so her knee was bent and she wouldn't be able to kick out at him. She was writhing and struggling now, looking quite indignant but still rather confused. He smiled in anticipation, this game might be some fun after all. He removed her shoes, then lifted the hem of her gown up over her knees.

Her head jerked up, her eyes were wide with horror as she belatedly realized his intentions were sexual. A muffled cry, that might have been intended as a shriek, emitted from her gagged mouth. He smiled roguishly at her and kneeled between her spread feet. She tried vainly to close her knees against him, but the angle of her bindings prevented it. He counted his blessings that the fashion of the time had women wearing no undergarments. She was still thrashing about when he started stroking her thighs to soothe her. He chuckled to himself, it was almost like taming a horse to bear a rider, persuading some high strung filly to bear a man's weight took gentleness and skill. "I won't hurt you. As soon as you decide you want to start enjoying yourself, just relax, and I promise I'll show you more pleasure than you've ever imagined."


His hands continued to stroke one thigh hypnotically as his mouth kissed along the ankle that was bound to the desk. He kissed, then sucked on her toes. He heard a muffled moan that sounded akin to surprised pleasure. She relaxed for a moment. He worked his kisses up her knee and down her thigh. Suddenly she seemed to remember that she was supposed to be struggling. She thrashed around some more, as best as she could within the bonds, but he continued undaunted. His kisses trailed in a slow arc from one thigh, across her belly just above her pubic hair and over to the other thigh. She stopped struggling again and trembled with unwilling anticipation. His kisses arced back again toward the other thigh, this time further into her pubic hair, but not yet touching her clitoris. She lay very still and was moaning slightly as he breathed across her clitoris and barely touched it with the tip of his tongue. Her thighs trembled slightly with desire.

"Not yet, little witch," he spoke with a gentle, teasing voice. From this vantage, woman was woman, it didn't matter what she did in life, good or ill. It didn't matter that she was the enemy. Woman was woman, and it would be his delight to give her pleasure. And whatever information he gleaned from her mind in the process, was secondary to the game of seducing her.

He grabbed the dagger from where he had dropped it on the floor earlier. She looked terrified momentarily, but he only used it to slit the fabric up the middle of her gown, pushing it aside to reveal her smooth, flat navel and ample breasts. He set the dagger aside again. He kissed across her stomach, up between her breasts and along one side of her neck. She whimpered slightly out of consternation and pleasure. She writhed under him as though to hinder his efforts or escape, but as her pelvis was the only part of her body with much range of motion, she succeeded only grinding against the mage's torso. Foiled and frustrated, she relaxed again.

As he kissed along the other side of her neck and trailed down to one of her breasts, he cupped the other breast in his hand. On one side he began to lightly lick on her nipple, and on the other side his thumb stimulated her other nipple in the same manner. He kissed all around the flesh of both breasts, cupping, caressing and sucking. He made sure that she was quivering from reaction. Then he moved back down her stomach. Back down to where he had left her hanging. Again, he lightly touched her clit with the tip of his tongue, then he licked. And he licked again, more firmly. She moaned, and writhed a bit but not to escape this time. He worked his tongue across the outer folds of the labia, and kissed and sucked on her clit. She was getting very wet by this time.

He looked up across her body from between her legs. She was watching him intently, though it must have been a strain to keep her head up from that position. He had to admit to himself, her body was unusually attractive. He felt himself getting a little more aroused. He licked her clit again, and again, as firmly as he could. Her head fell back to the ground and she moaned. He paused and looked up again, and again she had lifted her head up to watch him. He could not read her gaze, but it seemed to be one of disturbed fascination. Since she was so bent on watching him, he grabbed a pillow from the couch and put it under her head so her neck wouldn't have to work so hard. She looked momentarily grateful, then confused, as though unsure what to make of his action. He went back to work on her clit, flicking his tongue rapidly, then alternating to slow, firm strokes, then back to rapid again. Through the gag that muffled her, he could hear her gasping and moaning with pleasure. Then slowly, gently, he inserted his tongue into her. He worked his tongue around as she writhed and his thumb massaged her clit with a soft, upward motion.

Then he stopped his assault and removed his shirt. He kissed along her stomach again, kissed around her neck and then sweetly kissed her cheek. "I want to hear your pleasure, beautiful witch, if I untie the gag, do you promise not to cry for help?"

She looked daggers at him for a moment, but as he was massaging her clit with one hand, and a nipple with the other, the distraction made her close her eyes with pleasure.

He bent to suck lightly on the other nipple, and then raised his head again. "Well? Do you promise?" he asked gently.

She considered for a moment longer, then nodded. She lay silent as he removed the gag. Then he kissed her deeply, but she struggled and tried to turn her head away. One hand was still on her clit, rubbing it gently between his thumb and forefinger. This distraction made her gasp as he released her mouth and returned his tongue's attention to her clit again. Her newly freed mouth had no time to utter words as she gasped and moaned from what his tongue was doing to her clit. The ecstasy was racing through her body like electricity. He slid a finger carefully into her very moist passage. She yelped and jerked up in surprise at the unexpected penetration but collapsed again in a moan of pleasure as he worked his finger and tongue in unison. His finger curled and pressed against another source of pleasure inside her as his tongue flicked faster. By now she was writhing and moaning quite loudly. That was what he wanted to hear. The mage was getting quite aroused by her reaction.


The mage stopped again and came up to kiss her face. The witch was left gasping and throbbing with need. "Will you kiss me now, lady?" he asked gently. Without giving her time to answer he pressed his lips again to hers. At first he found her mouth hard and unyielding with a stubborn answer. But one hand was trailing lightly between her thighs to remind her that he had the power to satisfy the need he had awakened. She yielded to his kiss at last, and searched his mouth hungrily with hers, wanting the satisfaction he offered. Enjoying himself immensely, the mage broke away from the kiss. "If I untie your feet, will you promise not to kick me or hurt me?" As he asked, he slipped a finger into her hot, wet pussy again and worked it around, to remind her of what he could withhold.

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byCoriander© 0 comments/ 37716 views/ 21 favorites

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