All at once, things changed. Sophia suddenly found herself at the center of something else completely new to her: an affinity for magic she’d never explored. Her family, as far as she knew, had never produced a mage. Sir had explained to her in great detail how these kinds of gifts had very little to do with anything related to heredity. As far as anyone knew, magical affinity was completely random. Out in smaller villages like Nebela, it was much less likely for gifts like this to be discovered. It was all a lot to process.

Never in her life did Sophia think she would be in this position. She was happy with her place. Comfortable, at a minimum. But now… Ever since she took on Sir’s job, her life had become progressively more complicated. She didn’t exactly know what to make of it anymore. But standing there in Sir’s study, she took a deep breath, and focused on the palm of her gloved hand. She had been trying to conjure something very simple: a floating ball of light.

She hadn’t expected the channeling glove to feel like it did. There was something uncomfortable about it, almost as if it didn’t want her wearing it. This kind of thinking was silly, of course. And just imagine what Sir would say if I told him something like that. “Sophia, need I remind you that sapience is a quality granted exclusively to humanity.” She smiled at the thought. She smiled thinking about him a lot this week.

It had been three days since Sir had offered to begin tutoring Sophia in simple conjuration. He had explained to her that most mages had something that they specialized in, an area of expertise that came naturally to them. Sir had suggested that Sophia spend some time thinking about this. It was very nearly impossible to figure out what another mage’s specialty was without them telling you themselves.

So, Sophia had started poking her nose into various books that Sir kept in his study. There were so many different texts on various techniques and schools of magic. Every time she thought she was starting to wrap her head around one, another would catch her attention. The world suddenly seemed so much larger, with more possibility than she ever could have known before.

That is, if she could manage to start by conjuring that ball of light.

Sir watched, sitting at his desk, staring intently at her hands. “Relax, Sophia. You look like you’re straining yourself. That’s not going to help you.”

Sophia was standing on the opposite side of the desk, avoiding eye contact with Sir. She took a deep breath, then nodded. “Right. I visualize what I want, and I let the magic flow through me. I can shape it. I can mold it.” She took another long breath in and held it for a few moments. It was easier to relax when Sir was supervising. Without him, she was always worried that she’d accidentally ruin one of his books or worse.

Magical energy rippled in the air. She breathed out and focused. The air above her hands shimmered like heat rising from metal. She felt the ambient energy in the air being pulled toward her gloved hand. A light. A shining ball of light. She steadied her thoughts on what she wanted. She closed her eyes, picturing it in her mind. A small orb of light, two inches in diameter at most, casting the room in a soft yellow-white glow.

“Don’t take your eyes off of the work.” She could hear the pride in his voice even before she opened her eyes.

When she did open them, she very nearly closed them again out of instinct. She had been looking at her empty palms only seconds ago. Now they were holding exactly what she had seen in her mind. She very nearly yelped in excited surprise. “Sir!” She turned to face him, presenting her hands as if he wasn’t able to see what she had done from her previous position.

“You really are remarkable,” he said. “At the very least, you’re better suited to this than I was. It took me two weeks before I was able to make things like that. If we keep this pace, you’ll leave the basics behind in a month. Most take four.” He stood from the desk, then leaned over it. He was smiling, so Sophia was smiling.

She stared into his golden eyes and laughed a nervous laugh. “Sir, please! There’s– There’s just nothing that special about me. I just have a better mentor than you did, of course.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I was trained by the greatest witch of our age, Sophia. If you knew her, you would understand that I could never possibly compete. So when I tell you that you have remarkable talent, I don’t want to hear you deflect it again. I would much prefer to hear a happy ‘Yes, Sir.’”

Her chest tingled, heart thumping. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry Sir. I certainly didn’t mean to offend.” She relaxed, letting her arms rest and lacing her fingers together. The ball of light stayed floating where Sophia’s hands were just seconds ago. She weighed her next question carefully. “Sir… When you say she was the greatest witch of our age. Who exactly are you talking about? Are witches different from mages?”

He smiled and leaned back in his chair. Sir seemed to love it when she asked questions like this. She never anticipated that learning from him would make her feel this much closer to him. It was easy to forget about her problems when she was practicing, and barely paid attention to the sigils on her hands. There hadn't been any further complications since the last pair appeared on her ankles.

“A witch is… How to describe them?” Sir mused, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “The main difference between a mage and a witch is natural aptitude. A witch will often have the ability to channel magical energy without ever thinking about it. A witch often doesn't need a channeling glove because of this. At one point in time, there were a great many of them. Unfortunately, out of… Well, I can't say that it was out of unjustified fear. Many of them were hunted and killed out of fear for what they might do to the world. Their particular affinity for the arcane has the power to shake the earth itself. The power they hold is vast, and they are still today feared for it.”

“That’s… terrifying. They’re really that skilled?”

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t I ever heard of them?” Sophia asked.

“A number of reasons, foremost among them that witches do not often wish to be known. You heard what I just explained. It’s better for them to live in secrecy.” Sir leaned forward in his chair. “It’s nothing you’ll likely ever need to worry about. Perhaps I can tell you about my former mentor one day. Unfortunately, it won’t be today.”

Sophia put her index finger on her chin. “Have you seen any of those incredible powers yourself? You know, back then?”

“I did,” he said with a grin. “It was one of the most exciting times of my life. I hope one day you’ll look back on what we’re doing now with that kind of emotion.”

She looked into his golden eyes, truly taking him in for the first time in a few days. His happiness made her feel warm. And the way he was smiling… all of their interactions over the past few days had felt so much more real. A thought popped into her head, and she spoke before she could stop it. “You’re… really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Sir just continued grinning at her. “If you can believe it Sophia, I am not just a misanthrope living in the woods. I do care about people, and have been known to enjoy teaching magic, among other things.”

“I didn’t–” She panicked, waving her hands in front of her. “I didn’t mean to suggest that–”

“Oh, stop, stop. I know what you meant, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He stood and stepped up next to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “That said, you’ve done enough magecraft for the day. If you learn any more basics faster than I did I’m going to have to admit that I might not be the most powerful mage in Nebela.”

The look on his face… She looked up into his eyes and blushed. Ever since she’d kissed him, she found herself looking for moments where it could possibly happen again. She was sure that he was looking at her that way now as well. She could feel the way that he was looking at her, and no matter how much he insisted he was just checking on the sigils that covered her body, she knew that it was more than that.

Probably.

“Now,” he said softly, not letting go of her. “I hate to bring it up, but you do still have a job I am technically employing you for.”

She wanted him to kiss her so badly. The thought wouldn’t leave her alone. She tried to shove it back down again. “I… I suppose I do. Are you sure you still want me doing that? Whose clothes are they, even?”

He squeezed her shoulders, then cast his eyes at the floor for a fleeting second. He looked back up at her immediately after, his smile faded. “Yes, I still want you mending those clothes. But I don’t want to talk about where they come from now. I hope it’s not too much to ask to be patient with me.” His hands left her shoulders, brushing down her arms until his hands found hers. He raised both of her arms in front of him, then kissed each of her hands. “Just trust me when I say that they’re meaningful to me, and I hate to see them in disrepair.”

“Sir…” She trailed off, finding herself unable to move. Her heart leapt, and she nodded at him. “I understand. You can just… tell me when you’re ready.” She smiled at him, hoping to cheer him up.

He gave her half a smile, and Sophia considered it a win. “When I’m ready. For now, you have a job to do. I also need to get back to studying your condition. I haven’t had nearly as much time as I should have been devoting to this. The last thing I want is to leave you cursed because we were both too enthusiastic about other topics.”

It had been strange, Sophia had to admit to herself. She hadn’t really felt particularly worried about her condition the last few days, especially with Sir so excited about having an opportunity to teach. She found his energy contagious, throwing herself into his lessons with ease. “It really is odd, the things that bring people together.”

Sir gave her a look that she had trouble deciphering, then he put her arms back down, letting them rest at her sides. “Go on, Sophia. I’ve left you something to work on. It’s on the sewing desk. I’ll come and check on you when I get an opportunity to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep again.”

When did he have time to put something out for me? I was up before him… And surely I would have heard him try and sneak by if he was trying something like that. “Yes, Sir. I’ll get to work.” She curtsied, giggling.

“Careful. If you look that cute when you’re curtsying, I might start to require it of you,” he said, sounding as serious as Sophia had ever heard him.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You ask so much of me, Sir!”

***

The morning sun rose on Nebela, the sky a painting of orange and purple as it did. Sophia awoke in her own bed, in her own home. She was in a simple nightgown, curled up under the lighter blankets she had, wishing she was still under Sir’s. Have I really started to get used to his home so quickly? She tossed the blanket off of herself and got out of bed. She supposed that it wasn’t really too unbelievable. Sir lived in a very comfortable way, and she had become accustomed to it immediately. It was hard not to when the sheets were so soft, the blankets so plush.

There was a sleeveless brown top waiting for her to put on, along with a pair of shorts. By all accounts, it was going to be a hot day. She was planning on getting back to work now that she was back in town. Sophia worried she had left her neighbors on their own for too long this time…

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. It was fine for her to live her own life! Everyone would understand that she was away from home for a good reason.

She got dressed, then tied her hair back in a ponytail. She looked at the sigils on her hands, then down at her ankles. She had a feeling that having them on display should have bothered her, but… Today it didn't seem to matter. If people saw what was happening to her, so be it. There were a number of chores to be seen to, and while the day was long, she wanted to be sure to make the most of it. Sophia knew she wouldn't be in town for long.

Outside, the day had slowly begun. Neighbors sleepily waved good morning to each other as they started their mornings. Sophia took stock of who seemed to be up and moving, then made the rounds in town. First, little Edward from down the road had accidentally torn a seam on his favorite stuffed animal. This, thankfully, didn't take her long to repair. Her next item of business was a wall that needed to be patched at the tavern after a fight a few nights before, a special request from Bernard.

“All I’m saying is it would be one thing if it was over anything substantial,” Bernard explained, leaning on the counter of the bar.

“Right, of course.” Sophia smiled, doing her best to hide her expression from the man. She was fond of him, but loved to pretend that she was just here because she had to be. She knew he enjoyed it as well.

“But this, it was just a silly prank that escalated so much farther than it should have! It makes a man want to get out of business altogether.”

“Well, did you consider making them pay for it?”

“Oh, they are. Whether they know it or not, this goes on the tab.” She heard him get up and turn to the shelves behind him, arranging glassware. “Plus, I can finally convince you to come by if something needs to be fixed.”

“Come on, that’s not fair!” Sophia sighed dramatically. “As I recall, you’re the one who sent me out of town daily for an indeterminate amount of time?”

“Ah, no, an understandable misunderstanding you see,” he laughed. “I wasn’t the one who made you do that. I just passed a message along to its intended recipient, and packed said intended recipient a nice lunch.”

“It really was a nice lunch,” she said. She drove a screw into the wall, re-securing a shelf.

They were quiet for a moment while Sophia finished working. Bernard soon walked up behind her, patting her shoulder. “That’s why I always wait for you. Just like it never happened!” She finally dropped her guard, letting him see her smile. “Speaking of lunch, I can’t just let you leave here witho–”

“You can and you will!” Sophia started to gather her tools at a nearby table, ready to make a quick exit. “You know I have a lot to get to today, Bernard. I’m going to be working straight through lunch.”

“Your father would kill me if he knew I was letting you leave without a meal!” He said. Sophia rolled her eyes at him and continued packing. “Fine, fine. But promise me you’ll come by later tonight for dinner and a drink, you understand?”

“Okay, okay, okay. You’re right. I’ll make you my last stop of the night,” Sophia promised.

***

Hours passed quickly, as they often did when requests began to pile up. It didn’t faze Sophia. She knew how to organize each task, one at a time, working through them. It didn’t matter that Levi was as demanding as always, that Zachary couldn’t go more than a week without breaking a piece of furniture with his clumsiness. She knew each of them well enough to handle them, and they trusted her more than anyone else around to help them with their problems. It was easy to get lost in each job, laser focused on completing what was in front of her.

***

That evening, she returned to Bernard’s tavern. He’d roasted a chicken and they shared it, having saved her a spot at the bar with him while he worked. She thought she caught some of the patrons staring at her, but she did her best to shrug the feeling off. She was here to spend some time with a friend, and she wasn’t going to let an awkward feeling that wasn’t based in reality get to her.

“I’m telling you, Bernard, I’m fine! I had a lot to get done today, and I got through all of it. You worry about me far too much. I’m not as fragile as I look, you know.” She was pointing a leftover bone at him, having already had a couple drinks. She was enjoying a proper buzz for the first time in what felt like months. “Plus, plus, it’s not like I’m neglecting myself! What are you so worried about anyway?”

“Ah, Soph, maybe you’re right. You do seem to have really come into your own in the last few months,” Bernard acknowledged.

More eyes on her. On her hands, on her fingers, on her ankles. She suddenly remembered something. She liked to be looked at. She needed–

“And, I’ll have you know, I’m… really enjoying… S- Miles’ company. And I’m starting to believe he enjoys mine, as well.” The words felt awkward leaving her mouth, especially Sir’s name. It felt wrong to say.

Bernard took Sophia’s other hand in his, giving her a genuine smile. “Hard to imagine someone who wouldn’t, hon.”

“It would certainly be a shock, should a person like that truly exist,” came a voice from behind Sophia. She felt it traveling through her, felt it touching every nerve in her body, making her want to turn to face him. She felt an overwhelming urge to kneel before the voice, to turn and offer herself up to it.

It was Sir’s voice, of course.

The instant Sophia realized it, she felt a shock of arousal pulse through her. She turned around to face him. He loomed over her, golden eyes shining down. “Hello, doll. I was wondering where you’d run off to. Fortunately, you’re very predictable, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir!” The words burst from her as quickly as he finished the question. She suddenly felt so much more than just buzzed, the proximity to Sir making her head spin. Something primal inside of her needed this man, needed him to take her, to shape her, to mold her exactly how he wanted her to be.

“That’s a good doll,” he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the lips. Sophia tried as she might to wrap her arms around him as he did, but his outstretched hand stopped her. She knew wasn’t allowed to do anything more than Sir had allowed her. “Now, plaything, I’m so sorry to say this. It’s not how I want things to happen. You’re in trouble, doll.”

Sophia blinked, looking up at Sir. A creeping feeling of stillness came over her. Her fingers were nearly numb, just barely registering touch at all. She tried to move, to react, but she couldn't. Something held her still.

Sir turned his attention to Bernard. “My apologies. I hope it hasn't been too much trouble for you,” he said, gently petting Sophia's hair as he did. She wanted to lean into his hand, but still found she couldn't move.

“Aw, not at all. She's been as well behaved as she's ever been,” Bernard replied.

Why is he talking about me like I'm not right here?

“Good, good. I suppose it makes sense that it would come down here and make itself useful.” Sir placed a gloved hand against her cheek, gently caressing her. “Now, doll. Why did you come back here? Surely you didn't think I could just let you stay.”

I don't… Why did I come here? She tried as hard as she could to think of an answer. I was in my bed… It isn't so strange for me to come home, is it? “Sir, I… I live here? Staying with you is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but–” He put his hand under her chin, grabbing it, forcing her to make eye contact with him. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, and she found herself unable to continue speaking.

He stared as hard as he ever had into her eyes, as if searching for something. “Ah, I see. A regression.” Sir looked away from her and back to Bernard.

“Sorry, Miles. When she gets like this, it really feels like we should indulge her until you come and collect her,” Bernard said.

“No, no. There's no need to apologize, Bernard. You did the right thing.”

Sophia blinked up at Sir, confused. “Sir? What is he talking about? What are you talking about? What… What's going on?” She wanted answers. Something to explain why she was getting so aroused the longer they pretended like she wasn't there, that she didn't count as someone who needed to be involved in their conversation. Every gentle touch of Sir's hand on her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, all reinforcing his power over her while she sat helpless, staring up at him.

Sir barely acknowledged her. “I appreciate you taking the time to take care of her,” he said. “I think she still gets homesick from time to time. It doesn't–”

“Sir! Please! I just want to know what's happening!” Sophia exclaimed, finally finding the strength she needed to grab the cloak that was wrapped around Sir.

His eyes snapped down to her as she grabbed it. His expression seemed frustrated, but Sophia didn't understand why. “You speak when spoken to, doll. You're causing a scene.” She blinked up at him, confused. Sir sighed, then put his hands on her shoulders, bending at the knees to look into her eyes directly. Sophia immediately felt the ability to move leave her once again. Her grip on his cloak failed, her arms falling to her sides. “That's right, doll. You remember now, don't you? You know that dolls don't think.”

The doll blinked, a strange feeling of relaxation washing over her. Why am I so worried about this again? “dolls don't think,” she murmured. Its vision unfocused for a moment. It felt Sir's gloved hand on her face and let go of a breath it didn't realize it was holding.

“There you go,” Sir cooed, the soft smile returning to his face. “Everyone here already knows about what you are. Surely you remember that.”

“I'm your doll, Sir. I– I do anything you ask. A doll c-can't make decisions on its own,” she breathed. She was so horny. Sir always had this effect on it. He ran his gloved index finger down from her cheek to her neck, then down to its elbow. As soon as he touched the sigil there she couldn't stop herself from moaning. If the other patrons of the tavern hadn't been paying attention to what was happening with it before, they were now.

“Every single one of these sigils marks you as mine. Sometimes you forget, doll, and in times like these it's important that I teach you this lesson again.” His finger touched the sigil on her wrist next, and her mind went blank. There were no thoughts left in her head that weren't focused on Sir and the anticipation of what he would do to her next.

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” Its voice was monotone, its eyes completely focused on its Owner's.

“That's a good doll.” Sir stood back up, then took a step back. “Do you know what you did wrong now?”

The doll nodded quickly, neatly. “Yes Sir. I left home without your permission. A doll doesn't move on its own,” it said. It turned to the others in the room. “I'm sorry about the interruption.”

“Take your top off!” Someone yelled from a nearby table. Sophia couldn't figure out who it was.

Sir looked out into the rest of the tavern, searching for the source of the voice. After a moment, he smirked. “Well, doll? It's the least you could do for the trouble you've caused.”

The doll's cheeks burned red. Its hands started to reach for its top. Its nipples poked through the thin fabric of the shirt.

“Miles, cmon, I'm trying to work with you. But you can't just–”

“I can and I will. This is the best way to remind it of its place,” Sir said, silencing Bernard. “Whether or not you stay to watch is your decision. But I will not have you of all people tell me what to do with my property.”

Bernard grimaced and stepped away from the counter, quietly exiting into a back room. Sir put a finger under the doll's chin, tilting its face to gaze up at him. “I didn't tell you to stop, doll.”

It nodded and pulled the shirt off over its head, letting it fall to the floor. It heard a few cheers from the crowd, but it ignored them. It needed validation from its owner, the only opinion that truly mattered. Sir smiled down at it. “That's a good doll.” He stepped behind it, taking its wrists in his hands and posing it. He pressed its hands against its tits, pushing them together. “You're made for this, doll. To be posed, to be looked at, to be desired.”

The doll smiled. Sir was right. It felt so good to be watched, to be ogled. It felt an urge to finish undressing, but didn't dare move after Sir had posed it. Sir's hands found its thighs, pulling them apart. He unbuttoned the shorts it was wearing, but didn't try to remove them. He pulled the zipper down, revealing the top of its panties. A rush of euphoria washed over the doll. Made to be posed, made to be used, made to be watched…

“That's right, doll. You exist to be played with,” Sir whispered into its ear. “You're insatiable, but you can't touch yourself. You need them to watch you. But you need me to touch you.”

The gathered crowd was completely focused on the doll, and it relished in the attention. It wanted Sir to touch it so badly, but couldn't find its voice to beg with. It didn't realize how badly it had needed this, to be put on display for others. Dolls are meant to be seen, to be something beautiful to be gazed upon, and it wanted nothing more. Every inch of exposed skin made it that much more aroused, that much more desperate. It needed Sir. It needed him to use it. The doll's lips parted–

“Ah ah, doll,” Sir chided, his gloved hand teasing at the waistband of its panties. “Do not speak. You do not ask for things. You do as you're told. You're being punished, remember?” He kept touching it, hand pushing further into its shorts, teasing its pussy over its underwear. It wanted nothing more than to rut against his hand, desperately seeking something resembling relief, to finally get what it needed after so long. It needed to cum. It didn't matter that it was on display in front of all these people. It was better if it could cum in front of all of these people, nameless faces in a crowd, all eyes locked on it as it was played with–

***

Sophia woke in the sewing room, her dress pulled up above her waist, her fingers jammed into her underwear. The room smelled like sex, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. She needed relief. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cum, even with all of the ridiculous fantasies she'd been obsessing over for weeks. She played with her clit, but it wasn't enough. The image of Sir playing with her in front of her former neighbors was still fresh in her mind. She needed him.

Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to orgasm. Whenever she came close, something stopped her from finishing. She whined and slumped on the bench, letting her forehead fall against the table. She let her arms hang at her sides. What is wrong with me? Why is this happening?

A knock at the door shook Sophia out of her frustration. “Sophia? Are you all right?”

Sir's voice.

Sophia cursed under her breath and wiped her hand on the inside of her dress, trying to put herself together before answering. He knocked again. “Sophia?”

“I'm fine! Everything is fine!” She quickly smoothed her dress, standing at the table as the door opened.

Sir poked his head in, golden eyes shining, black hair draped around his face. Sophia put her hands behind her back and tried her best to smile. “I– I just actually– I was just finishing up!”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “And nothing strange happened while I was working? I was half expecting to find you asleep.”

Sophia anxiously fiddled with the back of her dress. “Oh, no, I, um– not today Sir. Everything went smoothly!”

He looked at the table, the clothes lying on it, and then back to Sophia. She could swear she saw him start to smirk. “I see. And you're absolutely sure there's nothing you aren't telling me?”

He knows. He knows! Gods, he knows! She thought. “Well, Sir, I, ah– I did… I did fall asleep. And, well, I–”

“Another dream, I presume?” He wasn't hiding his smile anymore. “What happened in it?”

Sophia's face turned completely red. “Well, I– Um, you see, it was really just– Um. You were there.” Why did I say that?!

“Ah, of course. And what was I doing?” He strode across the room slowly, gaining ground to approach her with every word. A second later he was in front of her, looking down at her.

An overwhelming sense of deja vu hit her. She felt so powerless with him here in front of her. “You– I’m not entirely– See, the thing is, I don't know if it's relevant to my current–”

“Tell me.”

Embarrassment burned in her face. She didn't know what to do, what to say. It felt impossible to tell him the truth, that she had been dreaming about him taking her and playing with her body like it was a toy. That he was treating her like an object he owned, and further, that she liked it. Loved it. It was impossible. She couldn't possibly admit that to him. She had already kissed him, she couldn't possibly–

“You were touching me!” The words burst out of her mouth without a thought. “You were treating me like I was just an object to be played with and teasing me and it felt so good, Sir!”

Her hands snapped from behind her back to her mouth, shocked at what she'd just said. She looked up wide-eyed at him. She tried to read his expression, but he didn't say anything, standing silent and examining her.

And then he smiled again. “Well, Sophia. Is that something you want?”

She blinked at him, opened her mouth, and then blinked at him again. “What? What do you m–”

He cut her off, placing a gloved finger on her lips. “It's a simple question, Sophia.”

Arousal mixed with shame inside of her. She felt as if she barely understood what was happening. Of course she wanted him to take her! She couldn't possibly deny that part of herself, especially when it was manifesting itself in every dream she had, in every stray thought. She wanted him.

But something still felt wrong. A sliver of her mind was telling her that she shouldn't. They still didn't know what was happening to her, and to continue getting distracted like this wasn't helping them get anywhere. He had been studying today to find a cure for her, of course, but they had already spent so long distracted by the new discovery of her magical prowess.

She looked up at him again.

“Please.”