Marissa knew she’d had a few too many as she stumbled back to her dorm room, but she’d been unable to help herself. She’d once again been trying to drown out thoughts of Taylor, her dorm-mate. Taylor hadn’t done anything wrong or untoward - no, quite the opposite. The butch Mechanist had, in fact, been too damn nice to Marissa, for reasons completely beyond her comprehension. No-one was just nice, surely. In the world the blonde Enchanter had grown up in, everyone wanted something, be that money, or power, or a favour, or anything, really, other than just a friend. That was how Marissa had gone through life so far, and it was how she intended to keep going, no matter how many times she’d been called a bitch for it. It was why she’d gotten into Enchantment - that, and definitely not because she’d gotten off on it. It was why she’d stuck with boyfriends who really didn’t mean much to her beyond what they had - that, and not because she’d been conditioned to assume she only liked guys. And it was why, under no circumstances, was she going to be anything other than cold and shut-off from Taylor until she figured out what the dark-skinned girl wanted from her - that, and not because the idea of friendship - or something more - for its own sake scared her. Nothing scared her, she insisted to herself as she realised she was going the wrong way for the third time and staggered around to face the right way.

Normally, she was able to put those sorts of doubts out of her head, and move forward confident in this worldview. But tonight, her mind had kept circling back to Taylor. As she’d headed out, the Mechanist had been tinkering with some sort of new gadget - Marissa had no clue what; she’d never had a head for embodied magic. However, when the Enchanter announced where she’d been going, Taylor had looked up and, with nothing but sincerity in her voice, offered to come along with her to make sure she kept safe. Marissa had scoffed at the idea, informing Taylor that her defensive wards were more than adequate for that purpose, thank you very much - which genuinely wasn’t bravado; it was perfectly true - but even so, the Mechanist had asked her to stay safe. Taylor’s concern had stayed with Marissa, and maybe it was just that it had been Pride recently and the brunette had been out there celebrating in full force, but Marissa’s thoughts began to turn to the idea that Taylor wanted to seduce her. Maybe that was her motive: she was being nice to get to the blonde’s body. It wouldn’t work, she insisted to herself; she was definitely straight, alright? - but she couldn’t get the idea out of her head. Even trying to drink the thought away hadn’t helped, instead reinforcing it, her drunken mind spiralling around this idea of Taylor getting her into bed. How they’d kiss; how Taylor’s hands would travel up her body; how her powerful thighs would wrap around hers… No, she was fantasising about this; she had to stop! Fortunately for Marissa, her mind had then latched onto a new idea. She absolutely could stop this - these thoughts, this scenario - by enchanting the brunette and ordering her to spill the beans on her plans to get into Marissa’s pants, and then to never act on them again. As she’d contemplated this idea, it had seemed better and better: she’d march into the room, point her wand at Taylor, fire off a powerful spell to trap her mind - ooh, even better, just trap her body, leaving her helplessly watching as she was compelled to reveal all and her capability to seduce Marissa was sealed away forever. Better yet, she could give her one taste of what fucking her would be like, and then it would be gone forever. Yes, seeing Taylor on her knees before her, calling her “Mistress”, getting all she wanted but knowing this would be her one and only chance… that would be sweet. She wasn’t attracted to Taylor, she insisted to herself. She just wanted to prove it. She was getting off on the power dynamic. She’d show that damn lesbian her place once and for all, and show her that the world wasn’t nice.

When she stumbled through their door, her mind a haze of fantasy and anticipation and drunken logic, Taylor was still at her desk, working on that gadget. The Mechanist looked up with a cheerful smile, which quickly turned to a confused frown as she registered the wand Marissa was pointing at her.

“Uh, Marissa? Whatcha doing with that?”

“Whaddaya think? ‘M gonna teach you a lesson ‘r two… ‘bout how the world works… gonna stop you from dragging me ‘nto bed… y’ll see… ‘ll show you…”

“O…kay. You’ve clearly had too much to drink; how about you go have a nice cold shower and sober up, and then we can discuss this like adults?” Marissa shook her head grumpily in response, trying to refocus her blurry vision and re-aim the wand directly at the brunette’s face. Taylor was now starting to look actually worried.

“Right, well, if you’re not going to listen to reason, I should at least warn you that it’s really not a good idea to shoot off any spells at me while I’m sitting here, so how about I just get up from this desk, and-”

“Stop tryin’ to trick me an’ accept y’r place,” Marissa slurred at her. She felt a ripple of satisfaction at the concern that was now spreading across Taylor’s face.

“No, Marissa, I’m serious. You shouldn’t be firing anything at me, this is an experimental-”

“Shuddup,” Marissa replied, and with a somewhat clumsy poke of her wand, loosed the spell she’d been cooking up directly at the brunette’s temple. Despite her inebriation, her aim was true, and she internally crowed in satisfaction as the spell was set to undo all of Taylor’s machinations…

For about a second. Then, just as rapidly, the device sat on the desk whirred to life. Copper gears hummed with magic as the gadget flew into the air, rotating a mirror to intercept the bolt of pink light, and shoot it right back at Marissa. Completely unprepared, all she could do was let her jaw drop in shock before the spell hit her own temple and sank in. Immediately, she felt the initial commands take hold, and against her will, her body sank to the floor, kneeling in submission. Her face smoothed out into a neutral, even pleasant expression, as she looked up with wide eyes at Taylor and, to her horror, heard her own voice say, “How may I serve you, Mistress?”

Taylor’s initial reaction, far from being one of delight as Marissa had expected, was of anger. “You idiot! What were you thinking?” The Mechanist snatched her device out of the air and cradled it gently, doing some sort of magical sensing on it. After several minutes of nervous checking and fidgeting, during which time Marissa could do nothing but kneel and wait, stewing in her own thoughts as she tried to comprehend how her perfect plan had fallen apart. Eventually, the brunette looked up, tucking away a few hairs that had come loose from her messy bun, and gently placed the gadget back down, before moving round to stand in front of the Enchanter.

“Well, you don’t seem to have harmed the experimental spell REFLECTOR,” she seethed, before regaining control of herself. “I’d only just completed that prototype; do you have any idea of how many ways that could have gone wrong? Many of which I haven’t yet ruled out! But at least you don’t seem to have undone the literal weeks of work I put into that thing… so let’s see if you’ve harmed yourself. I’ve got no idea if I’ve calibrated it right, so you may have irrevocably messed with your mind. Honestly, Marissa, I knew you were drunk, but I didn’t think you were that stupid. So… given how you reacted to the reflected spell initially, I’ll assume you’ll follow any instruction I give you. For a start, I want you to tell me exactly what that spell was meant to do.”

Marissa’s lips immediately started moving, while the rest of her body remained frozen, despite her best efforts to lift her wand, or stand up, or do anything other than look subservient. At least the drunken slur was gone from her voice, as the magic had better control over her body than she’d had. “It was meant to make your body completely subservient to my will. You would have followed the spirit of my orders exactly, while your mind watched on, aware but unable to do anything to prevent it.”

“And how would you say your experience lines up with that intent so far?”

“It currently feels like an exact match.”

Taylor released a breath neither of them had realised she was holding, the tension leaking out of her shoulders. “Thank the Sisters. It seems the power and intent calibrations on the spell reflector are correctly tuned. Barring any exceptionally weird magical effects that I’m not sure exist, you’ve become the target of exactly the sort of spell you tried to cast on me. The other big concern I’m having right now is how it affected the duration. How long did you mean for this spell to last?”

“An hour or so? I wasn’t thinking it through that much.” Marissa internally winced at how candid she was being, but couldn’t help but admit the lack of planning that had gone into this.

“Right. I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on the clock, then. Temporal calibration isn’t too challenging, so I doubt I’ll be too far off… but again, I don’t know, because I haven’t had a chance to test it yet. Maybe you’ll be under my control for the next month, unless you put in a way to end the spell early?” Marissa just shook her head, prompting Taylor to rub the bridge of her nose. “Of course not. Again - and I actually want you to answer me this time - do you have any idea how wrong that could’ve gone?” Another shake of the head. “I don’t generally worry about manual labour,” she added.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Well, since you’re a captive audience, let me tell you. And I want you to actually pay attention to this, alright?” She sat down heavily in one of their armchairs, Marissa’s body swivelling to follow.

“The way a spell reflector works is that it absorbs the energy of the spell, then replicates what was thrown at it and fires it back at the caster. The issue with that is that Automs can’t instinctively cast spells the same way people can, so you have to include a way to mechanically analyse the spell, down to each individual aspect of it, in a way that works for every school and style of magic, and then translate that into something the Autom can replicate. Get the absorption wrong, and the Autom could explode. Get the power detection or replication wrong, and it could put far more magic out than it received in - which in your case, might have gone beyond enchanting to stunning or permanently fucking up your mind. Get the intent wrong, and it could cast the wrong spell entirely - so maybe you wouldn’t have the advantage of your mind being free, or maybe you’d be transmuted or blasted or something. Get the duration wrong, and maybe what was meant to be a temporary spell becomes a curse. Get all of it wrong, and, well, let’s just say you had a chance just now to turn yourself from a person into a permanent extension of my will. Do you get why what you did was stupid, now?”

Marissa’s face had been growing paler throughout the lecture, and she now nodded frantically. “Yes, I do,” she replied calmly, speech still unable to reflect her inner turmoil. How dare this mere Mechanist lecture her! And how dare she make a horrible kind of sense! Unaware of all that was happening below the surface, Taylor continued.

“Now, having said all that, I should note that those are all incredibly unlikely scenarios. There’s almost no way Professor Alabaster or myself wouldn’t have caught such a drastic miscalibration of the Autom and fixed it, and very little chance I could have made such a mistake to begin with. But it wasn’t impossible; these are very delicate things, and it’s very easy to misalign one gear or wire out of dozens without noticing. There’s a reason that Sam and I were planning to initially test our reflectors with five-second tickling charms, not full-powered enchantments. Even with as well as this has gone, I’ll need to keep monitoring you for any adverse or unexpected effects until this wears off, and I’ll definitely need to file an incident report…” Taylor groaned just thinking about it, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few seconds. “But at least it’ll make the final project summary more interesting! ‘An impromptu, unplanned field test indicated that the Autom was in reasonable condition before controlled tests were conducted…’”

She waved a hand in dismissal. “But enough of that. I suppose I should be more concerned with what in the Nine Hells possessed you to try and fully enchant me, despite my explicitly warning you not to do it right then! Do you even know?”

Marissa found words immediately coming out of her mouth once more. “You’re too nice to me; nobody’s just nice. And since you’re openly gay, my hypothesis was that you must want to get into my pants, and so I decided to enchant you to expose your scheme and forbid you from trying to seduce me… and maybe give you one taste of what sleeping with me would be like before taking it away forever. Teach you that no-one’s just nice.”

For a moment, she began to feel in control of the situation again, despite the fact that on the most fundamental level, she was not. Maybe Taylor would tell all after being told this so bluntly; maybe she’d be guilted into dropping all her scheming after what had come about as a result of it. Her hopes were raised further as the brunette’s jaw dropped; yes, here it came, the moment where she admitted-

Taylor burst into loud, seemingly uncontrollable laughter. “I- you- you thought- you decided-” she gasped, before another peal of guffaws escaped her, causing her to double over as Marissa stared blankly up at her.

Eventually, Taylor got control of herself. “So, let me get this straight- heh, if you’ll pardon the pun. You thought that, because I’m nice to you and a lesbian, that meant I had an ulterior motive, and not that those happen to both be parts of who I am? And that the best way to get me to drop that ulterior motive, because you’re straight and don’t want to sleep with me, was to make me unable to do anything but sleep with you. And that, because I’m gay and you’re hot, that meant I’m automatically interested in you in particular, without any regard for, say, that bitchy personality of yours. You look much sexier all meek and subdued like this, incidentally. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Marissa was forced to admit, although she was convinced that the Mechanist was being somehow unfair. If she could just work out where she went wrong… But Taylor was talking again.

“Right. So what, exactly were you planning on getting me to do? Or did you not think that far ahead?” An image sprung into Marissa’s head, one that, she realised, she’d been having throughout what had passed for her planning.

“I would have had you strip off, kneel in front of me, and beg to eat me out. I would have eventually allowed it.” She could feel herself becoming aroused just picturing it. Taylor raised an eyebrow.

“I see. Now, they say that turnabout is fair play… so how would you feel if I gave you those orders?”

“Embarrassed, humiliated… and oddly aroused. But I’m not gay,” she hastened to add, to which Taylor chuckled.

“Sure, maybe you’re pan or something. Don’t worry, I won’t go as far as you would’ve… now consider how that makes you feel; maybe that’ll give you second thoughts about this grand plan of yours. As I said, I’ve genuinely got no desire to get into your pants. But… well, we have to have consequences for our actions, don’t we? And I figure, if I was gonna be eating you out if all went well for you, I would’ve seen you naked anyway, no? So how’s about you get those clothes off?”

Helplessly, Marissa rose to her feet and began to strip. The one piece of consolation she could take from this whole mess was that at least Taylor didn’t want her to be sexy about it, so her body moved perfunctorially: unzipping her dress and dropping it to the floor, quickly and efficiently removing her shoes and socks, unclasping her bra and dropping it, along with her panties, to the floor. Taylor made no effort to be discreet in how she was checking her out, eyes dragging themselves down Marissa’s ample breasts and to the shamefully damp and flushed region between her legs. “Care to explain that, Marissa?” she drawled, gesturing down there.

“Maybe your spell reflector did it?” she offered lamely. Clearly, the Mechanist hadn’t wanted an actual answer, or she would’ve had yet another humiliation to add to tonight’s list.

“Yeah… no. It still has to replicate actual spells. So unless you know of a spell that has these very specific requirements… well, I’m sure you don’t need me to spell it out for you, so to speak. It’ll give you something to think about while we wait for the spell to end.” Walking up to the Enchanter, Taylor gave her a pat on the cheek, causing Marissa to desperately try to think about anything other than how good it felt to be touched by the butch woman in that moment. The metaphorical spell was broken as the Mechanist’s other hand snaked around the blonde, grabbing a quick squeeze of her butt. Internally, she squeaked in a mix of outrage and arousal, although on the surface she remained entirely placid, staring at the brunette with a vapid expression. Taylor chuckled, voice low in her ear.

“Don’t worry; I swear that’s the biggest liberty I’ll take tonight. But I do have to hand it to you; you’re really fucking hot. If you ever work through your issues around power and sexuality, I’d certainly be interested… but only if you made the first move; I’m not coming on to you, despite appearances.”

Stepping back, Taylor scrutinised Marissa, a more serious expression playing over her face. “The question remains - what am I going to do with you while you’re still under my control? I don’t want you to spend all evening just kneeling, as hot as that would be… Y’know what, your body’s still drunk, even if it’s not showing right now. When I snap my fingers,” and here she giggled a bit at the cliché, “you’ll just go through your normal night-time routine, as though nothing unusual has happened today. Except, you’ll remain naked throughout. It’s set to be a warm night; I’m sure you’ll cope. Oh, also, you’ll remain up until the spell drops, unless your body literally can’t keep going. I want to get all the data I can out of this test, yeah? Now, I’m guessing I can’t give you any orders to follow after the spell ends?”

Marissa shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

“Very well. In that case, I’m just going to recommend that, sometime in the near future, when you’re up for it, we have a serious chat about what just happened. It won’t do either of us any good to have this just festering, yeah? But only when you’re ready for it; I’m not gonna rush you. You can use the bathroom first, by the way, but I’ll be right behind you; I think this little guy-” she patted the head of the doodad, or Autom, or whatever the heck she’d called it- “and I have had enough excitement for the evening. Now off you pop!”

Taylor snapped her fingers, and Marissa’s body sprang to life once more, gathering up her clothes and walking in the direction of the laundry hamper and then the shower. As she sulkily soaped herself up, she was still trying to process what was happening. Above all, two questions dominated. First, why was Taylor still being so nice? Both of them knew full well what would have happened if their positions had been reversed; why, then, had the brunette done almost nothing, in the grand scheme of things? More than that, her primary reaction had been of concern - sure, it had been for the Autom as well as her, and she’d shown it by getting angry, but that had been real worry she’d let go of when Marissa had confirmed the reflected spell was the same as the incoming one. What the fuck was that all about? Especially as she apparently didn’t desire her, a fact that Marissa’s drunken mind, at least, could not comprehend. She’d said something about her personality, but surely the enchantment removed that as a factor; why, then, had the brunette not taken everything she wanted from her body and then some? She could have gone from merely ogling the Enchanter’s tits to taking handfuls of them; could’ve plunged her fingers into her willing pussy without her saying anything; could’ve had her bent over her bed, pressed beneath her weight, moaning like a whore…

And that was the other thing Marissa’s mind kept returning to. Why was she so horny about all of this? She’d lost; she was powerless; she could easily have been used and discarded - by a woman, who she was certainly not sexually interested in, she insisted once more. Why, then, were her nipples hardening at the slightest touch; why was her head filled with filthy fantasies; why… was she rubbing her slickened lips with such fervour, she knew she was dripping onto the shower floor? It took her several seconds to belatedly realise she was pleasuring herself; another several to realise why: the shower was where she usually got herself off in the dorm, if she was in the mood, and so the spell had interpreted it as part of her “normal night-time routine.” She came quickly, gasping and shuddering and gushing over her fingers - quietly, thank the Sisters; she was practiced in that. Why were her mind and body reacting like this? Beyond the spell, of course; fundamentally, why was she so aroused by what was, by any metric, a colossal fuckup?

As she hastily cleaned herself again, shampooed her hair, and stepped out of the shower, she felt as if she was sobering up a bit. As she left the bathroom, body still on display for the world to see - or, rather, just Taylor, who’d mercifully closed the curtains - her emotions had begun to settle on a new keel: anger. Then and there, as she brushed her hair out and tried to ignore how good it felt to have Taylor’s gaze roaming her body again, she vowed to herself that the Mechanist would get her comeuppance. She wanted to sit down, and have a lovely, friendly chat? Oh, they’d talk, alright. But she’d make sure she’d dictate exactly what Taylor would say.