“I won’t lie… I was expecting someone… more…?” Florence sniffed, slowly shaking her head. Between her long blonde hair that fell around her face in elegant ringlets, and her fine, silk, white clothing that showed not a spot of dirt or grime it would be easy enough for anyone to spot that Florence was of noble blood.
A young heiress to a powerful, influential merchant house, Florence wanted for nothing. The room where she met with the other woman made that clear enough. It was little more than a meeting room, a place more to exchange pleasantries and a spot of tea, yet still it contained more wealth than a majority of the city. From the fancy paintings on the wall of her family, to the exotic plants, to the fancy teapot and its accompanying cups—each individual possession the woman owned looked as though it would cost a small fortune.
“Aren’t magic users all supposed to be… elegant…? Where are your enchanted robes? Where’s your fancy staff?” Florence narrowed her emerald green eyes as though she could see through the woman’s capacity for magic if she squinted long enough. “Are you really Silminae, or have I summoned a beggar to my humble abode instead of a spell meister by mistake? I don’t have time for the idle ravings of a street urchin who thinks herself a wizardess.”
By comparison, anyone could tell with a single glance that Silminae was not one of the ruling, wealthy class. Though she wore robes it was quite clear that those were not the enchanted variety.
A faded gray, one could easily imagine they had once been far more vibrant two or three owners ago. Frayed at the edges, it seemed they were likely worn more to keep whatever garments she wore underneath from achieving a similar state. If they were enchanted it did nothing for their aesthetics.
Silminae was older than Florence by a good ten years, but that hardly made Silminae old any more than it made Florence particularly young. She possessed quite similar emerald eyes to Florence, and red hair that matched more the color than the orange of most red hair. Her skin was tanned, but it was easy to tell that without as much time required under the sun she might have been paler than the woman who summoned her.
“I am indeed Silminae, your ladyship.” Most would have betrayed some sign of Florence’s rudeness, but not the red haired magus. To her credit, she even offered the younger woman a warm smile. “I apologize for my state of dress, and my lack of preparation. Were I to expend the resources to be worthy of visiting a place such as this…”
She gestured idly about, but no words needed to be said. Anyone more aware than Florence would have known few could afford such a thing without feasting on crumbs for weeks.
Unfortunately, Florence did not seem satisfied. She raised her nose and snorted before shaking her head again. “Very well, I suppose…! All that matters is that you are capable of undoing the dark magics beset upon me and my family. Are you capable of such a task, or is that beyond your meager doings?”
Instead of replying immediately, Silminae swiftly turned away from Florence. The blonde’s eyes began to narrow, her mouth nearly opening wide to decry her visitor’s failed manners, but Silminae fell into a coughing fit. It was not the wet sounds of illness that Florence had learned to despise and fear, but the rasps of one without reliable lodgings. I’ll not offer my apologies for her sorry state… but I suppose I can overlook this rudeness. Once.
When Silminae turned back around, she wore an apologetic smile. Like Florence, she seemed to decide to ignore she’d coughed at all. “I am to understand it is a curse by a rival merchant family to bring you to ruin…? Curses of fortune are fickle for one with magical talent, your ladyship. I can weave you a newer future with but a small effort.”
“Good! Good… Then perhaps this meeting will not end as disposable as it began.” Florence snorted again, rolling her eyes as she stood from her large, comfortable chair. “I would invite you to tea, but you can understand that the future of my family demands swift action.”
“Naturally.” Silminae gave a slow nod of her head. She was only herself a few steps from the door herself, unable to reach her seat before Florence had begun to chastise her state of dress.
Florence scowled, motioning for Silminae to move as she crossed the room. “Then quickly…! I was told you might require access to my room to lift such a curse, being the head of the family and such… I’ll not grant it to you on your own. My servants were to all be dismissed once showing you to me, that none need know the full details of these happenings, or concern themselves overly much with your arrival.” Silminae stepped back through the door as Florence approached, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “What are you smiling abou—nnnn!”
As Florence’s foot landed where Silminae had been standing mere moments ago, four beams of bright, blue light rose from the floor surrounding her. Another streak of blue shone above her, forming a box that vanished a moment later.
A sigil floated in the air above Florence’s forehead, and she found herself utterly unable to move.
Trapped in mid step, Florence could do nothing more than quiver and stare with wide, horrified eyes as the redheaded woman’s smile grew wider. “I should apologize, Florence. Not for what I’m about to do… but that I was going to do it even before I met you, and saw what an utterly despicable woman you truly are.” Silminae sighed, shaking her head as she approached the frozen woman closer, so close she was almost reaching out to touch her. “Now, of course..?
“I feel no shame at all for what’s to become of you. You’ve earned your fate now… but I was going to do this even before we met… once I heard about your eyes.” Silminae’s grin deepened as she slowly stepped around the trapped women.
Florence could not turn her head to follow Silminae’s movements, nor even simply move her eyes. She was trapped, held in place not as though she were contained within a box or bound, but as though her body had its ability to move from one exact position and place wholly drained out from the top of her head down to the bottom of her feet. She couldn’t even muster a scream, but she could still think.
She could still panic.
She could still hear Silminae’s feet as she slowly stepped around her immobilized prey.
“Nice curves… I think mine might be a bit better here or there, but I can probably work with that. Fleshcraft isn’t my thing, not really…” Silminae’s voice came from behind Florence. Her tone was horrifying. Her words even worse. When Silminae’s nails slid through Florence’s hair, feeling possessively across her scalp, Florence would have given anything for the relief of a scream. “I never fancied myself a blonde either, but you know what…?
“I think I can live with that.”
Lips closed around her lip, suckling, teeth nibbling, and Florence could not even moan. It saved her from expressing the way she felt her pussy growing hot and her skin more sensitive, but that was such a small thing compared to the horror of her frozen form’s inability to react.
There was no way to stop Silminae’s hands from lifting her breasts and squeezing so roughly it brought tears to Florence’s eyes. Her lip couldn’t even quiver as Silminae’s hands trailed back down her body to stroke along the very inside of her thighs by pressing her skirts tight against her legs. “Oh… Oh my. Yes… Yes, you will do quite nicely. You see, Florence…? That curse of yours? I could smell it from miles away. You should have been more worried about what it meant, and probably tried to make peace with whoever you upset.
“It’s not the sort of curse that turns your crops to ruin, and empties your coffers.” The wizardess’s nails dug into one of her captive’s breast and one of her thighs, pulling herself tight against the frozen woman who could do nothing to reply. “It’s the kind that calls out to the world, begging for it to find a way to right the wrong through a reversal of fortunes. And thus you have me… preparing to take all that you have, and all that you are. I’m tired of being skilled and penniless.
“Once I’m done, Florence?” Silminae released the blonde’s body, slowly making her way to look eye to eye with the heiress once again. “You’ll be Silminae… and I’ll be Florence du Aurentum. But don’t worry… it turns out you’re one servant too few!”
Florence had been trying to scream since she was first held by the magic on the floor. With this new revelation she tried harder, and found herself every bit as immobile as before. Unable to even cry, she could do nothing as her body still throbbed with the lust teased into it by Silminae’s possessive touches.
Of course she was being so possessive.
She was looking to claim Florence’s body.
“Stay still… This shouldn’t hurt a bit…!” Silminae winked, laughing as she began to move a finger delicately, precisely through the air. Florence wouldn’t have laughed if she’d been able, but she was denied any action but staring blankly ahead as blue light followed Silminae’s hand. “This is a difficult spell… so you’ll forgive me if I’m somewhat… quiet while working it out. It’s not nearly as easy as the one I used to trap you while I was ‘coughing’ a moment ago…”
Florence would have sneered and thrashed. She would have sobbed and screamed. A moment of pity that I didn’t give would have been wholly unearned…! I’m glad that I didn’t show you any leniency or mercy…! You wicked… horrible… miserable…!
She wanted to disbelieve that Silminae was incapable of such a feat, that she might not be powerful enough or that such magics were impossible. None of Florence’s hopes rested on morality. More blue symbols appeared in the air before her, and one by one, Silminae pushed them into her forehead, to her lips, to her neck, to her chest… one by one, pushing more and more magic into her body.
There was no way for her to show she felt those spells weaving themselves through her, but that didn’t mean they were without sensation. Florence could feel threads of magic weaving between her body and her soul, hooks grasping into her very self.
As much as she tried to deny to herself that this was happening, to insist that something would stop this, that it was impossible to achieve such a feat, she could feel her connection to her body beginning to weaken. It was almost as though she were losing weight, becoming lighter, svelter, but it was deeper than that. Her hair felt thinner. Her skin felt softer. Everything was smoother and lesser in an ephemeral way that couldn’t be described by any words that Florence knew.
She was simply feeling less, and what she could feel was a smooth, tender magic that left no new opportunity to struggle. It afforded her no new sensation… not at first.
Silminae pushed another symbol forward, into Florence’s belly, and if she were not rooted in place her hips would have surged forward. Somehow she could feel her sensual drives, her desires, her longings themselves, bound up and squeezed by blue ropes stronger than steel. They squeezed around her, making her soul itself feel breathless as another sigil pushed into her mons, enflaming her with an ever greater, deeper need.
“I imagine this is somewhat… intense… but you’ll need to forgive me.” Silminae chuckled. “Unless you want to try finding work. At least I had arcane skills on my side. All you’ll have is a decent pair of tits. Not that those can’t help you in a city like ours, but…”
Her voice trailed off, but neither woman needed to hear what she might have said next.
“Now all that’s left… is to prepare me, to become you…” Silminae began to repeat the process, sigil at a time, pulling them towards her instead of pushing them towards Florence. “And don’t worry. I won’t be trapped like you are. The magic obeys the spirit, not the body. If anything, your superior diet and access to all of the better things in life…? My magic should be stronger than it is now…!”
Though Silminae was quite clearly skilled at her runecraft, forming the magic in the air, pulling it, shaping it, moving it… it felt to Florence as though it took eons to complete. Each symbol in the air was another step towards her life being torn away from her.
What could be worse than being made so common?
Finally, one last, larger symbol hovered between them. “Alright, Florence…” Silminae slowly licked her lips as she added fine, small details to its very center. “Remember. When I look into your eyes and say ‘Are you ready to serve me, Silminae’ you nod your head and smile.”
Silminae grasped the edge of the symbol that before had only seemed made of light, and with a flick of her wrist it spun in the air like a coin. Florence stared, pleading with every power she knew. She even tried to plead to the household she’d brought low to earn such a fate. No one replied, and a moment later the redheaded wizardess was pushing the sigil forward.
It moved into Florence, and grasped at the bonds of blue that squeezed tight around her essence. She could do nothing resembling the cry she wished to give as the sigil spun, tearing her from her body.
For a moment there was no sensation but desire, no feeling but control.
She was free from her body and all of its physical needs and wants, but the way the bindings had grasped her body did not free her from metaphysical desire without her physical form. Without her body she could only feel the desires to be controlled, to be guided, to feel the strong, powerful force of Silminae’s magic claiming her, possessing her, making her a plaything for the redheaded witch to use to her satisfaction.
Only a moment passed before her essence slammed into Silminae’s body, but in that moment Florence experienced an eternity.
She experienced an eternity of weakness, of helplessness, of need without dripping or panting but a need that surpassed such physical displays. There was nothing but Silminae’s bondage squeezing around who and what she was. Without that she would have been untethered without any point of reference.
Without Silminae’s grasp, in that eternal moment, she wouldn’t have existed at all.
“Oh… oh my… Hm… Hm hm…” Florence’s voice filled the air. It was coming from above her, and the redheaded woman on the floor was having a hard time understanding what was happening. Things had been clear so recently, but when she tried to remember anything before that eternity she felt dizzy, and weak. Her head spun as she heard Florence snort above her before clearing her throat. She sounded different than usual. She still sounded smug, but in a very different way. “I think… Yes, I’m sure of it. You’re a little taller than I was… Fascinating…! Your eyes are sharper, too…!”
The redhead on the floor whimpered. Everything did feel fuzzier, hazier… stranger. She recognized the mansion around her. It had been… It was mine… wasn’t it…? Thinking such a thought actively ached, agony splintering her thoughts until she relented, but it had felt right. What… happened…? Why am I on the floor…? Did I really… is she really…?
“Oh come now…” Florence’s voice spoke again. It was an imitation of the way she’d sounded when Silminae had first arrived without quite hitting the mark. It was too amused, too excited. The disdain was clearly fake. “Can’t you at least stand on your own, Silminae, or will I need to do that for you, too…?”
Shuddering against the floor, the redheaded woman slowly rose up to her knees. Silminae… That was the name of the magus I summoned to lift… to… nnnhaa… n-noo… It… I…?
Pain throbbed again, but left behind was an opportunity for something sweeter, something sexier. The promise of pleasure, of fulfillment, was still there in her mind.
The other woman’s magic.
It promised the fallen woman bliss and pleasure beyond her wildest dreams if she only do one thing: obey.
“A little higher now… Silminae… I’m losing my patience with you.” Florence giggled, sounding so much younger than before. Her grin looked all the more wicked, her eyes hooded so very low. “Though perhaps I should show you some mercy. You are such a pitiful thing. Perhaps if you rise… if you can perform but one task I told you I would desire… I’ll offer you a boon. A reward. Would you like this…?”
A boon. Silminae’s body throbbed with excitement. She felt sore. Weak. When was the last time she’d had a proper meal? What had that meal even been?
She really stole my body… Green eyes crossed as the woman slowly rose up from the floor, her eyes fluttering. But… does it matter…? I… Ohhh… Standing… feels… My head… Everything… I feel so strange, but… Is it so bad to obey her… to serve her…? If I’m her, if I’m Silminae, then… then surely she’ll treat me sweetly…? Reward me for my service…?
Gently, Florence’s foot rested atop Silminae’s. It was gentle, but firm enough for both women to feel through their shoes. Emerald green eyes met emerald green eyes. Silminae’s breath caught in her throat as she stared. Her spine shuddered. Her toes curled.
“Are you ready to serve me, Silminae?”
Flushed, Silminae’s eyes hooded low and her cheeks burned. A dreamy, distant expression spreading across her face. She couldn’t stop herself from giving Florence’s imperious eyes the smile she desired to see, and then a slow, quivery nod.
As soon as she did, Silminae could feel blue squeezing around her, teasing along the curves of her thighs. Her knees shook, but when she began to fall forward it was Florence’s arms that caught her. “Careful now, Silminae…! You cured the curse that befell house Aurentum… Though I do have one more task for you today, you’re to be my most precious new servant. That means I can’t have you falling and dashing your head on the floor… Can’t have my precious Silminae hurting herself, mm…?”
Florence’s hand gently grasped at Silminae’s chin, holding her face so their emerald green eyes met. Silminae could do little more than stare back, her mouth hanging open. She could moan, and her eyes could flutter as Florence’s delicate touch smoothed out her wild red hair, but that was hardly due to any action on her part.
“Mmm… You seem speechless, Silminae…” Florence’s eyes hooded lower as she leaned in closer to her servant. Their noses brushed, and Silminae quietly whined as her lips parted. “There is a task I would have you perform… are you too tired, too weary to serve? Need I feed you, bathe you, and clothe you first… or can you show me that you are as eager to serve as befitting your station…? Do you have the strength to show me that you would do anything to earn your lady’s favor…?”
Silminae’s eyes quivered. The words came to her lips without thought as though tugged free by those blue bonds that felt like they clung between her legs, brushing her clit every time the redheaded woman did as her new employer wished. “Of course… your ladyship…”
It sounded far more worshipful than Silminae had sounded before, but it was doubtlessly her voice. Florence smiled, lifting Silminae’s chin higher. “Good girl, Silminae. Then let me begin by requesting a kiss. You need do nothing but reply to my passion in kind, my lovely, scarlet angel. I’ll be sure to teach you… in time…”
Florence’s smooth, soft, plush pink lips melted into Silminae’s. Were that all she did Silminae’s eyes would still have melted shut and her body would have gone limp, but Florence’s other hand drew a shape against the small of Silminae’s back.
Blue lines appeared, and then flashed against her robes. Silminae’s eyes opened wider as she returned the kiss, and electric-blue pleasure danced along her spine. She could feel wisps of it sizzling between her thoughts, disrupting them, softening her mind even as she felt those same arcs of energy dance between her legs.
Silminae kissed Florence harder, arching out her body so their curves met and pillowed together. Her eyes fluttered, unable to fall shut as Florence drew yet more shapes across her back, each one glowing, throbbing, pulsing, and filling the quivering redhead with pleasure.
Mmm… feels… so… good…! It was hard to even think through so much bliss, much less be upset at how she was being treated. The woman she was before never would have tolerated her birth rites being stolen away, much less a common woman’s lips against her own. Now, shivering, groaning against Florence’s lips, her thighs trembling, Silminae couldn’t stop herself from loving how it felt. Want more… Want to serve her more… Want to feel… even… better…
Silminae parted her lips, and her tongue reached out to serve Florence by indulging her in raw, simple pleasure. There was nothing else she could offer her, and Silminae wanted more of Florence’s favor. She wanted more of the blue that Florence weaved across her nerves. She wanted more of Florence.
All she had to offer was her obedience.
Florence herself was quick to respond, her tongue gliding smoothly along Silminae’s as her hand moved from her back, to her thigh. Yet more shapes were drawn, sigils formed, and Silminae’s eyes pulsed with blue magic as she felt greater and deeper pleasure.
When the kiss broke, Silminae could barely breathe. It was easier to gaze deep into Florence’s lovely green eyes and long for another command, or more of that blissful blue that felt like it filled the lower half of her body and crisscrossed over her chest. She’s so beautiful… She makes me feel so good… I want to please her… I want to serve her… Florence du Aurentum…
Never before had Silminae been able to indulge just how beautiful she found those golden curls, or those soft, full pink lips. Never before had she arched her back and felt Florence’s full breasts squeezed against her own.
It was intoxicating.
For so long, Florence had been the most beautiful, powerful woman she’d known. She’d admired her. Adored her. Yes, she had been Florence, but that didn’t matter. With how addled her mind was from the transfer of bodies, it was only natural to find herself spellbound by what had once been her own beauty. It was easier to hold onto that sensation through the need and yearnings that filled her new body than it was to hold onto despair or frustration.
How could she feel unhappy about her situation when everything about serving Florence felt so amazing?
“Now, Silminae…” Florence purred, stroking so slowly across her servant’s chin and her ass as though both were equally soft, tender, meaningful touches. “Are you recovered enough to truly please me… to show your lady how much she means to you, and how very obedient you are to her commands…?”
“Y-yes… yes, your ladyship…” Silminae more moaned the words than spoke them. Her eyes were glassy and dull, her expression one of eager, devoted surrender. “Please… Command me, Lady Florence… My Lady du Aurentum… I exist to satisfy your desires…!”
Florence’s eyes widened, and she let out a loud, thrilled laugh. “Oh my…! I did not expect to hear you speak such lovely things so swiftly, but… I suppose my magic was already stronger than I imagined!” Silminae did not interrupt or request her chance to please again. Instead she stared up at her lady with doe eyes that could see nothing but the beauty of a powerful heiress exercising the power she’d always revered above all else. “But I’ll have plenty of time to revel in my victory once you’re done.
“On your knees, Silminae. It’s time you learn how to use your mouth to please a woman.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, the redheaded woman dropped to the floor with a thud loud enough that even Florence winced. She made no move to help the fallen woman, but it was barely a moment before Silminae began to lift her skirts. After that, moving to help her up would have been all the more difficult. Once underneath, Silminae’s lips suckled and kissed their way up along Florence’s shapely thighs, her eyes rolling back into her head as she savored the taste.
The first taste of Florence’s petals was so divine Silminae could do little but shudder. It helped that Florence had drawn another symbol in the air, and pushed it down into the top of the kneeling woman’s head.
Kneeling felt so right as pleasure flooded through her mind, and tightness squeezed around her nipples. It was hard to concentrate through such pleasure, but her tongue found a way. Her lips found a way. She needed to show the Lady du Aurentum how much she adored her treatment. She needed to submit and please this woman who made her feel a perfection of purpose she never could have imagined.
“Good girl…” Florence groaned as her hips began to roll. Her scent filled the air, and Silminae’s nose, as her tongue dove past those petals to dance among her folds. “Such a very good girl… You’ll fit in just perfectly as my special little servant…! You’ll need to tell me everything the lady of the house needs to know… to surrender all of her secrets…
“But those aren’t your secrets anymore, so you shouldn’t mind that at all.” Another series of blue lines filled the air before dissolving into the kneeling Silminae’s scalp. “They’re mine.”
“Yo-ouuurs…!” Silminae’s voice trembled, and her thighs clenched. So much blue weaved between all that she was, holding her together more tightly than anything else ever had. Her purpose to serve, to please, to obey made every suck and lick and nibble feel better than the same touch to her own body ever could. It felt like what she was born to do, what she was made to do, what she had always wished to do.
Florence’s body was one she knew so intimately, and Silminae was happy to teach her lady those secrets, too. She knew which places her lady liked to feel a tongue flick, and where she liked to feel lips latch and suck. She shared each secret, one by one.
Silminae withheld nothing.
“Mine… mine… Mine!” Florence’s voice cracked as she came, breaking apart into sounds that from any voice less smug and self-satisfied might have sounded something adjacent to pitiful. Silminae felt those words pierce her very being, leashing her ever tighter to Florence’s will as yet another sigil, albeit one somewhat shakier and less clearly defined, pressed its way past her skull and into the core of her very being.
Her eager mouth swallowed every drop of her lady’s lust. She could do no less without failing to obey her command. She was to please her, and to show the depths of her obedience.
Such bottomless depths necessitated a show of endless passion.
Silminae was hardly prepared to stop when Florence’s hand grasped her hair and pulled her mouth back from her glistening cunt. “Mmm… Enough, Silminae… Enough. You’ve done well to please me, and I’ll not forget it… You’ll be ever beside me, ever assisting me, and when I don’t require your help…” A single fingertip drew another shape directly against Silminae’s forehead, and then firmly pushed. Silminae groaned, her eyes crossing as her pupils shined a bright, neon blue. “You won’t need to be anything more than a pretty serving girl, dusting, or cooking, or whatever else I find you have a talent for.
“Maybe I’ll keep you about, barely dressed, ready and waiting to serve my every need. Looking at you from up here… It is hard to not realize just how beautiful you are.” Florence smirked. “Though you’d be prettier without the rags. My imagination can work wonders, since I’ve seen you wearing so much less. Cast off your robes. Flo—Silminae. Show me my property. My servant.”
“Y-yess, my lady… your ladyship… yes…!” The kneeling redhead couldn’t move quickly enough. In a flurry of motion, her tattered gray rags were cast aside, revealing a loose, aged skirt, and a top with a neckline that hinted at the curves its loose shape hid away. “Whatever you desire… My body is yours, Lady du Aurentum…!”
In some small way, knowing she’d been able to lift the curse on her family, and herself, so simply… it brought the small pieces of Silminae that properly remembered and understood who and what she had been a modicum of peace. All she needed to do was serve.
Florence would see to the rest.
A wet tongue slowly wet full, plush, pink lips as Florence’s emerald green eyes hooded. “Good girl, Silminae… My precious, pretty little Silminae…” Reaching down a hand, Florence slowly, gently, lifted Silminae to her feet. The woman’s knees were weak and shuddering, but with a little help she was able to stand by bracing herself against the steady noblewoman.
Florence kissed her servant, savoring the taste of her new body’s lust on her lips.
Silminae quivered, savoring another chance to please her owner who gifted her such euphoria. Her mind felt warm and hazy, free of obligation and concern. It wasn’t something the former Florence du Aurentum would ever have requested, but she savored it all the same.
“I think we’ll both be much happier from now on…”