“Thank you so much for visiting our store,” the girl said cheerfully. “I hope your charm brings you all the luck in the world!”

The hunched old man grunted and shuffled away, his newly-purchased rabbit’s foot clutched in his right hand. The girl watched him leave with a broad smile on her face.

“Close up in five minutes, girl,” Magus Thezon said, without looking up from his book. He sat in a comfortable chair in the corner of the room, engrossed in a thick tome about potions.

“Yes, Master,” the girl said primly. She stood and waited patiently for any further customers, ready to give them her undivided attention as soon as they entered.

Less than a minute later the door swung open, and a familiar figure stepped inside the store. “Thezon, you tricksy old bugger!” he called, a wide grin on his face.

Lifting his eyes from the page before him, Thezon laughed at the sight of the newcomer. “Fennrak!” Placing the book aside, he rose and strode across the store to embrace his old friend. “It must have been, what, six months? How are you?”

“Better all the time,” Lord Fennrak chuckled, “thanks to you! My fortunes have increased greatly thanks to that business deal I made - a deal that could not have been sealed without your invaluable help...”

“Indeed,” Thezon smirked. “How is your lovely daughter these days?”

“Quite well, so I hear! I went to great trouble to train her so she’d be the perfect wife for my friend...”

“Oh, I imagine it was an utter chore for you,” the Magus sniggered.

The Lord laughed good-naturedly in reply. “It is true, I took my pleasure from it where I could. But now Zallia is another man’s property - and sold for a great profit, if you ask me!”

Zallia. The girl smiled at the name, memories of their time together clear in her mind. But the love she once felt was gone, replaced by mere fondness. In fact, she was certain now that she’d deluded herself - what she had felt couldn’t possibly have been love. That was absurd. But then, silly girls like her were prone to such flights of fancy from time to time. Now, she simply thought of Zallia as a friend, and was glad to hear that she and her new husband were happy together - and that her marriage had also brought great joy to her stepfather.

Fennrak caught sight of her. “And who is this lovely thing?” She blushed and giggled, but didn’t reply. She could talk to customers freely, but the Lord was more than that - he was a friend of the Magus. She thought it best to wait for her Master’s permission to speak.

“Ah, a thief who broke into my store some months back,” Thezon explained. “I thought it best to take her off her wicked path and help her become a more productive member of society...”

“And she agreed to do so, and repay her debt to you, by working in your store,” Fennrak completed the sentence, raising an eyebrow. “Entirely of her own accord, I’m sure.” He studied the girl more closely, as she smiled placidly at him. “She looks familiar...”

“I have reason to believe she may have been the stable girl with whom your daughter was having illicit liaisons.”

“Ah!” The Lord snapped his fingers in realisation. “Yes, of course - I recognise her now. That explains her sudden disappearance.” He laughed harshly, still peering into her dim eyes. “I don’t even remember her name.”

“Nor do I,” the Magus admitted. “She did tell me, the day she broke in, but I didn’t bother trying to retain it. I just call her ‘girl’. In fact, there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember it herself.”

The Lord shrugged. “Well, I suppose it’s unlikely anyone’s going to use it in the near future, isn’t it?”

The two men continued to laugh and joke, while the girl stood there, always at the ready for her Master’s instructions, always craving his approval. It was true no-one had spoken her true name in six months, but she did still recall it. However, there was no point even thinking of it. She didn’t need it any more. If Master Thezon wanted her to be ‘girl’, then ‘girl’ she would be.

Girls don’t need names, she mused inwardly. They just need to do as they’re told, and take care of their man, and make them happy.

All she needed was the pleasure of serving a man - her beloved Master Thezon. She’d been a fool to think she ever needed anything else.

***

Sinda wanted to scream and shout at herself. But she had no vocal chords with which to do so, and her mouth was just a thin groove cut into a wooden surface.

Thezon had done to her exactly what he’d done to Zallia, except for Sinda he’d chosen a wooden doll rather than one made of wax. She sat on a shelf overlooking the entire store, watching as her physical self - stripped of her wits, her willpower, her dignity, and even her name - carried out the every command of the very man that had done this to her.

Lord Fennrak - the evil bastard that started all of this - shook the malevolent Magus by the hand and then departed, after which Thezon had the other Sinda - or just ‘the girl’, as far as he knew or cared - lock up the store. Sinda groaned inaudibly. The store closed at five, and the sorcerer invariably went to the tavern at six. The intervening hour was her least favourite of each day.

Once the door was locked, the girl returned to the counter, which was directly opposite Sinda’s shelf, and leaned across it, facing away from her with her legs spread wide. Reaching back, she lifted her skirt, draping it over her back. Moments later Thezon approached her, his erect cock protruding from his robes, and slid it between her parted ass cheeks, beginning to fuck her vigorously from behind.

It had become customary for them to engage in a sexual romp every day once the store closed - always beginning with sodomy, followed by whatever else took the Magus’ fancy - usually for most of the next hour, if not all of it. Thezon made sure to do as much of it as was practical in full view of the Sinda doll, taunting her with the sight of him using her former self for his pleasure. Even after six months, the sight of a dick ploughing into her asshole made her want to retch - particularly a dick attached to one of the most despicable people she’d ever encountered.

But even this torture wasn’t the worst detail of her imprisonment.

No, the worst part was, she was on the same shelf as the wax Zallia doll, which stood just a few inches to her right. So close, and yet she may as well be on the other side of the world. Zallia was being treated to the same spectacle each afternoon, of her girlfriend being used as a sexual aid by the man who’d sundered both their souls. But crueller still, she was right there... and yet, they couldn’t speak to each other, or hear each other. They had to be physically touching in order to communicate.

To know that her soulmate was mere inches away, and yet they couldn’t even talk to each other... They couldn’t comfort each other, keep each other sane amidst the myriad torments and mockeries the Magus conceived of... That was the purest agony. It was even slightly amusing how the Magus was going to the trouble of fucking her witless body in front of her, in such a wide variety of ways, when nothing he did could surpass the evil act of keeping her and Zallia just a few inches apart.

Her one, solitary hope was that, in restocking the shelves, her dumb, servile counterpart would unwittingly push her and Zallia together, until they were actually touching. It was a very faint hope, but one that Sinda clung to with all that remained of her spirit.

This Hell would be just about bearable... if she could endure it in the company of the girl she loved.