“Hello!”

June announced herself as she entered her home with a bag of groceries in each hand.

Silence.

Huh.

She was used to her wife watching TV or reading a book in the living room and casually returning the hello.

“Uh… Fran?” she asked cautiously.

“June! I’m downstairs! I found something!”

“Gimme a sec to put away the groceries, hon, and I’ll be right down.”

Fridge and pantry restocked, she made her way downstairs to the basement where the two kept their old belongings.

Boxes of magic scepters, newspapers, and evil paraphernalia sat unused for decades. June kept the ashes of her old cat sidekick on the hearth upstairs.

30 years ago, she was the Summer Siren, beloved heroine to the local townsfolk, facing off against the dastardly schemes of the Witch Queen of Darkness as she tried to corrupt her city. 20 years ago, they decided they were too old for this and quietly married. Things had entered a relatively boring tedium after the Witch Queen got tied down. June worked in accounting, and the old Witch Queen was now a software engineer.

“What is it, hon?” June asked.

Fran, the former Witch Queen, held up one of her more fondly remembered evil devices: a dusty plastic tiara.

June blushed. She remembered her best friend wearing that headpiece and instantly falling under some sort of mind control; Fran had forced them to fight using it.

“Oh my!” June yelped. “I thought we had destroyed that old thing back in the day.”

“I thought so too,” said Fran, beaming. “I guess I kept an old prototype around. Wanna try it?”

June chuckled. “Sounds kinky.”

“What about our relationship isn’t kinky?” Fran retorted. “I bound you with rope as the Witch Queen, and I’ve never stopped.”

“Can I, uh…” June turned red. “Can we put on the old uniforms first?”

Fran smiled. “Hm hmm. Yeah.”

June grabbed a scepter from one of the boxes and let loose her old catchphrase: “By the power of the sun, I shall blind you with love!”

In her mind, she envisioned the archetypical magical girl transformation sequence. In reality, it was just a quick poof.

Her old clothes still fit; they were magical, after all. Her form was a bit pudgier, and her wrinkles were starting to show, but the outfit itself seemingly hadn’t aged a day.

“Well, Fran, I’m ready. Are you-”

“Of course I am. I’ve been waiting for you, Siren.”

The Witch Queen still looked resplendent in her old attire. Age had only made her look more majestic, like a villain in a children’s movie. Her antagonistic malice hadn’t disappeared, it had simply matured.

“Ough,” the Siren stammered, visibly flustered at how attractive her enemy/lover was. She tried to put on her old persona, or at least the performance of it. “Y-you won’t get away with it this time, whatever it is you’re doing!”

“My dear Siren,” the Witch Queen cooed. “I’m afraid you’ll find I’ve already won.”

The Witch Queen waved a staff, and suddenly the Siren was bound by a magical rope. The tie was more artful than practical; something any experienced rigger would envy.

The Witch Queen held the mind control tiara above the Siren’s head.

“N-no!” the Siren rebelled, playfully. “I won’t become one of your henchmen.”

The Witch Queen gave her a filthy look. “We’ll see about that.”

She placed the tiara on the Siren’s head.

The Siren immediately started feeling spacey.

Holy shit, the Siren thought. It… actually works…

She felt the ropes falling loose.

She felt the Witch Queen’s fingers under her chin.

She felt arousal quickly building between her legs.

And she had no more conscious thoughts for the rest of the evening.