Curled up in her seat in the corner of her compartment, Freya gazed out of the window at the forest scenery outside, blurred by the motion of the train. The journey was nearing its end, passing through the enchanted woods that surrounded Hexbourne. In less than five minutes they would arrive at the station, just a short walk away from Hexbourne Academy.

She gave her new teddy bear a squeeze - she’d been cradling it in the crook of her arm for most of the journey, unbothered about being seen with a stuffed toy at the age of eighteen. The small, soft, caramel-coloured bear was a Christmas present from Emerald, who’d been well aware of her predilection for soft toys - Freya’s bed at home was piled high with teddy bears of varying sizes, and she had two small ones in her dorm room at the school. If Jay, Hannah and Juniper, who shared the compartment with her and had spent the trip chatting animatedly with her and each other, found it strange that she was hanging on to a child’s toy, they didn’t comment on it.

Of course, none of them knew about its special feature. Still cuddling the bear close, Freya began lightly tickling its neck, careful not to get too animated and draw attention to herself. Her friends may not have questioned her about the soft toy before, but they might if they noticed she had started tickling it. Her dancing fingers crept along the furry brown back and targeted its butt. Grinning, she pictured Emerald squirming and giggling as she tried to pack - she was getting a later train, and wouldn’t be back until shortly before dinner.

Emerald had given Freya her last Christmas gift - a hair freshly plucked from her head - before Freya had left the Kane house that morning, having spent a lovely New Year with her girlfriend’s family. She’d cast a voodoo spell on the teddy bear before she’d even reached the train station, and had been playing with her present ever since - although she’d been careful not to do anything too lewd, given that Emerald was still at home with her mother, father and uncle. Freya had pretty much stuck to cuddling and tickling throughout the journey, with the occasional little kiss when her friends’ gazes were definitely averted. The sauciest she’d gotten was tickling the teddy’s backside, since she knew Emerald’s butt cheeks weren’t very sensitive.

As the train finally pulled into the station, Freya stashed the bear in one of her bags and grabbed the rest, hoisting one over her shoulders and dragging the others behind her as she followed Jay, Hannah and Juniper out of the compartment. Once out on the platform, she cast a levitation spell on the bags - noticing many of her fellow students doing the same - and then set off across an open field in the direction of the school, trailing her weightless belongings in the air behind her.

Within a couple of minutes Hexbourne Academy loomed into view before her, an incongruous medieval landmark amidst the Australian countryside. Crowds of students milled around, chatting unhurriedly, with a few teachers and custodians threading through the throng. Freya headed straight for the front gates, uninterested in further conversation. She wanted to unpack as fast as possible, and then be back at the station in time to meet Emerald - partly so she could levitate her bags for her, and partly because she was missing her already. Goddess, I’m really falling for her, she thought with a flustered smile.

“Welcome back, Miss Travers,” Professor Finn said with a lazy smile as she passed him. “Always good to see students happy to return to their education.”

“Hello, Professor,” Freya said politely, though her smile was evaporating along with her good humour. She had never been a fan of Finn’s teaching style and overall manner - he had always struck her as vaguely unprofessional, trying to be friends with the teen cliques and aiding them in ostracising the less popular students. Emerald’s anecdotes about the Professor using her as a guinea pig for a variety of hexes had only reinforced Freya’s negative opinion of him.

She did not break stride, hoping to desert the teacher as fast as she could. To her irritation, he strolled along beside her, continuing to chat, seemingly oblivious to her disdain. “Did you have a good Christmas break?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, still entirely civil, while pointedly not asking him the same question in a bid to deter further discourse. It didn’t work.

“I was expecting you to return arm-in-arm with your charmless girlfriend,” he continued nonchalantly. “Did you get to see Miss Kane at all over the holiday?”

She felt her temper flare. “She’s not a charmless,” Freya snapped, stopping and turning to face the Professor. “She is a witch, just like your other students. And I’m not sure it’s any of your business whether we saw each other outside school grounds. Sir,” she added at the last minute, with the barest hint of lingering civility contrasting her terse words and hostile glare.

Finn seemed unabashed. “Just taking an interest in my students’ lives,” he said calmly. Then he turned and strolled away, robes swishing behind him.

Breathing deeply to quell her rage, Freya resumed her fast trot back to her dormitory. Yeah, her first impression of him had been spot on.

***

An hour later, Freya was lying on her bed reading quietly, her belongings all unpacked, when there was a knock at her door. She darted across her bedroom to open it, expecting to see the dormitory’s matron, checking to see which students had arrived so far.

Instead, to her surprise, her girlfriend was standing in the doorway, grinning eagerly. “Boo,” she chuckled.

“Oh - Emerald!” she cried delightedly. “You’re here! I thought you weren’t gonna be back for another couple of hours?”

“Change of plans. Managed to get an earlier train.” The brunette witch beamed. “So now we can spend some more time together before dinner. That is, if you want to?”

“Wh- are you kidding? Of course!” Freya engulfed her in a hug. “I can never have too much time with my precious Emerald,” she whispered mischievously in her ear.

Emerald twitched a little at those words, presumably reacting to Freya’s term of endearment with her usual adorable fluster. She pulled out of the embrace a couple of seconds later, which was unusual - usually she waited until Freya let go.

“Come in,” Freya said, gesturing into her room. Emerald strolled past her, and she pulled the door shut. “I really enjoyed my gift,” she teased. “I imagine you did, too...”

“Your gift. Yeah. That was - yeah, I liked that,” Emerald mumbled. Her back was turned, but Freya could guess what face she wore. She’d seen it countless times in the past three months.

Ambling casually over to the bed, Freya picked up the new teddy bear. “Playing with you from a distance is so much fun,” she continued in her most sultry voice, raising the soft toy so Emerald could see it. “But it’s no substitute for having you right here with me, so I can make full use of my property...” She stroked the bear’s side with her index finger, keeping her eyes on her girlfriend’s face.

She was expecting Emerald to quiver at the caress - to squirm, and blush, and maybe babble an incoherent noise or two.

But she didn’t react at all. She just stared at the teddy bear, looking almost confused.

Freya lowered the toy. “What - what’s wrong? Did it wear off already? We can do something else, use one of your runes...”

Emerald frowned, then gave her a vaguely panicked glance and spun around, facing away from her.

“Em?” Dropping the bear on her bed, Freya darted forwards, an outstretched hand reaching for her girlfriend. “What’s going on?” she asked, unable to keep the worry out of her tone.

Just as Freya’s palm came to rest on Emerald’s shoulder, she spun around. Freya flinched. Emerald wore an expression she’d never seen before. She looked... cold. Bitter. Even... hateful. She was almost unrecognisable.

Freya was so taken aback by Emerald’s face, she didn’t notice her hands, clenched into fists, moving towards each other. Her knuckles tapped together twice, and with a shower of sparks, a small glowing orange sphere appeared between them. Startled by the sudden light, Freya staggered backwards a couple of steps, but was too slow to react. The magical orb flew upwards and hit her right between the eyes.

Emerald’s face was twisted into a vindictive grin now. Freya stared at her, her terror and bewilderment fading rapidly. She tried to cling onto the fear - to resist the magic flooding her brain, and remember that something was deeply, deeply wrong with her girlfriend - but it was no use. Within seconds, her mind had emptied of all thoughts and all concerns. Everything was just fine.

Emerald stepped towards her, her eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Sit down,” she said hesitantly. Freya promptly dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged and gazing up at her with a vacant smile.

“Excellent,” Emerald sniggered, her voice suddenly sounding very different. As Freya watched, her enthralled brain unable to comprehend the meaning of what she was seeing, Emerald’s features began to blur and change. “Now, I think you’d better tell me exactly what kinky shit you’ve been getting up to with your ‘property’, Travers...”

***

Stepping onto the platform and dropping her bags, Emerald looked around, her brow creasing in puzzlement. Freya had agreed to be here when her train arrived, but there was no sign of her. What could have kept her?

The throng of disembarking students began to clear, and it became evident that Freya was not going to materialise. Sighing heavily, Emerald began gathering her bags - she would simply have to bear their weight by herself. It wasn’t a long walk, and it was hardly the first time she’d had to do it without the aid of magic. She just hoped Freya was OK. She’d felt delightful phantom tickles and cuddles from her earlier, but that had been a few hours ago now...

“Having trouble?” a passing fourth-year asked. Emerald mumbled an affirmative response, warily studying the fifteen-year-old. Usually when a stranger talked to her out of nowhere, it was to tease and mock her, at the very least. But this kid seemed on the level. “Let me help you out,” they said brightly, and conjured a ring of bright yellow energy that encircled the bags, lifting them into the air.

Emerald smiled gratefully at her benefactor. “Thanks!”

“Hey, no problem,” they shrugged. “You’re that charmless seventh-year, right? I’m hardly gonna leave you to struggle...”

Emerald’s smile faded. Even the nice, well-intentioned ones couldn’t help unknowingly offending her. She swallowed hard, trying to remind herself that they didn’t mean anything by it - they’d just helped her out, after all.

She managed another tight-lipped smile at them as she threaded her arm through the handles of her bags, and set off towards Hexbourne Academy, her possessions floating along in her wake.

***

She felt the pull as she was entering the front gates - ice-cold fingers creeping up her spine, tremors running through her body, as her feet changed direction of their own accord. Almost to her dormitory, Emerald turned and went back the way she came, still pulling her hovering bags along behind her.

Finding herself approaching the dining hall, she nodded to herself, a flicker of relief passing through her, even as apprehension still filled her. Of course, Freya was in the hall already. Dinner wasn’t being served for another fifteen minutes, but she must have gone to get seats for them both. It could be competitive on the first evening back!

Her feet plodded heavily across the stone floor. The power of the rune pulling her forwards felt like the force of gravity - impossible to resist, even if she were trying to. She marched helplessly down the aisle, long tables on either side of her, each filled with chatting, laughing teenagers.

Freya was directly in her sightline now, sitting backwards in her seat with her back to the table, talking casually with the students either side of her. Emerald couldn’t bring herself to look around at them and see if she saw anyone she knew. Her focus was entirely on her Mistress. She was being drawn ever closer to her, only a few steps away... If Freya didn’t look up in time, she’d be on her knees on the cold stone floor before she could unleash her...

Freya’s eyes flicked over in her direction, and she smirked, her eyes lighting up. Emerald felt warmth radiating out of her chest, at once pleased that her girlfriend was excited to see her and squirming inwardly at how powerless she was to resist.

Any moment now, she was going to mutter, “Unleashed.” So quietly that no-one would hear her, but it would release Emerald from the rune’s power. She did this all the time, teasing her with the prospect of making her kneel in public. But she always let her go, just in time.

She was about five steps away now. Freya had looked away again, and was listening to her companions talk.

Three steps. Any second now.

She’d let her go. She always let her go. No matter how hot they both found the idea, she’d never make her -

Emerald’s knees met cold stone, and she let out a whimper and stared up at her Mistress, wide-eyed with shock.

Freya peered down at her, her pretty face twisting into a wicked leer. Then she went back to chatting normally, like nothing was happening. Like her girlfriend wasn’t kneeling at her feet in the middle of their school dining hall.

Her heart pounding, Emerald continued to stare beseechingly at her owner, clutching at her skirt, her breathing quick and sharp. Her head darted from side to side, dimly registering Hannah and Juniper sitting on one side of Freya, and Jay on the other. They kept glancing at her, looking perplexed and a little uncomfortable. But none of them made any comment, perhaps discouraged by Freya’s nonchalance. (Perhaps Hannah and Juniper felt they couldn’t judge anyway, after the weird kinky woodpecker-and-tree shit they’d got up to during the Halloween party.) Freya continued to ignore her, a giddy smile the only evidence that she even knew Emerald was here.

She was really doing this, in the middle of the school banquet hall. In public. In front of their classmates, their peers, their friends.

All bets were off.

Freya abruptly stood up and began to trot away, and an alarmed Emerald dropped onto all fours and scrambled after her, following her across the aisle. She took another empty seat, between two classmates Emerald knew by sight but not by name, whom she recalled being among those who had jeered at her for her magical ineptitude in the past. Worse still, as she kneeled at her Mistress’ feet again, she could see Georgia and Jemma sitting on the other side of the table.

She shot Freya a troubled look. Humiliating her in front of their friends was one thing, but this felt different. This felt like swimming in shark-infested waters. “Mi- Fre-” she stammered.

“Hush, pet,” Freya replied with a malicious grin, reaching out and patting her on the head. She blushed deeply, glancing furtively at the seated students nearby. These teens didn’t look uncomfortable. Rather, they were smirking, leering, and laughing in disbelief, clearly enjoying her predicament even if they didn’t quite understand it.

“What the fuck is she doing?” tittered one of the girls sitting next to Freya.

“Oh, this is what she does for me,” Freya replied with an indifferent tone, though her face was still contorted with manic glee. “This is our whole relationship. She gave me full permission to control her, dominate her and degrade her however and whenever I want.” As the other teens spluttered with astonished mirth, she grinned wolfishly at her kneeling girlfriend. “Isn’t that right, dear? I can enthral you any time, can’t I?”

Emerald’s mind was in a storm as she met Freya’s eyes, breathing hard and fast as she tried to process what was happening. This was too far, surely? Airing out the details of their dynamic to their peers - particularly the ones who would seize the chance to mock and deride her for it? She’d fantasised about it so many times, though. It was the ultimate loss of power, the ultimate show of submission, to be publicly used and abused in front of people she knew... But it had only been fantasies. The hottest fucking fantasies she’d ever conceived of, yes... but now it was becoming real. She didn’t want that. Did she? Freya clearly did, now.

Should she just give in, yield to the will of her Mistress? Freya owned her. She was her property, to do with as she wished. But she never thought she’d go this far...

What should she do?

“Can’t I?” Freya said again, still smiling. But there was a dangerous edge to her tone now.

Emerald swallowed hard, quivering uncontrollably.

Then she gave the tiniest of nods.

That was enough for Freya. She raised her ring hand, the gemstone glowing an electric blue. “That’s a good little slut, Emmie,” she cackled.

Emerald had just enough time to think, she’s never called me ‘Emmie’ before, before the thought was obliterated along with all her others. Her mind relaxed, as did her perturbed face, a big dumb grin spreading over it as she gazed lovingly at her Mistress.

“Get up,” Freya commanded, suddenly businesslike.

“Yes, Mistress.” Emerald clambered to her feet and stood at attention, towering over her seated owner.

“Turn around.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The enthralled girl turned to face away from Freya, dimly staring out at the surrounding tables. More and more of their fellow students were turning in their seats to watch the bizarre spectacle, but if she noticed, she wasn’t bothered at all. She felt wonderful. Everything was great. All was right with the world.

“For everyone who missed it, plaything,” Freya said loudly, “when am I allowed to enthral you and dominate you?”

“Whenever you want, Mistress,” Emerald replied brightly, her voice matching the volume Freya had spoken at.

“Do I have complete permission to do whatever I want with you at any time?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Do I even need to warn you before I do it?”

“No, Mistress.”

Freya reached out and began to rub Emerald’s sides, clutching at her like a toy. “What are you?”

“I’m your property, Mistress.”

One hand slid down, reached under her skirt, and cradled the big, hard bulge in her panties. “And what are these?”

“They’re your property, Mistress.”

Hysterical laughter was starting to echo around the dining hall. Freya lifted up the back of Emerald’s skirt and delivered a hearty slap to her buttocks, to which she did not react at all. “Describe how it makes you feel, to be enthralled and dominated - and please, sweetie, go into detail...”

“It makes me feel extremely aroused, Mistress,” Emerald said matter-of-factly, as if she were reading out a passage from a textbook during class. “Even when my mind has been enthralled and I’m not capable of feeling anything, including arousal, my body still reacts in ways that signify it. After the hex is lifted, and I remember what I’ve been made to do and I notice how hard I am, I get very flustered. It’s very compelling, being hexed and having my free will stolen and used as a mind-controlled slave. It’s almost addictive.”

“Is that why you came to me? Asked me to enthral you?”

“Yes, Mistress. I wanted to be enthralled by someone I trusted.”

Freya laughed at that - a harsh, derisive laugh that didn’t suit her at all. “And how did you ask me? Please, tell us exactly what you said to convince me.”

“‘I want you to take control of me, Freya,’” Emerald recited, with none of the soft, seductive emotion she had used that Halloween night.

“‘I want you to take away my mind, my free will, my virginity, my dignity, my personhood. Make me yours. Not a person, not tonight - just your mindless, entranced plaything. Your slave. Your slut.’” The hard ‘t’ was punctuated by another slap from Freya, who had stood up and was using her other hand to grope Emerald’s chest through her shirt. “‘Your doll,’” the enthralled girl continued. “‘Your possession. Your property. Your precious Emerald.’”

“Did you hear that?” The blonde witch grabbed Emerald by the face, squishing her cheeks with her thumb and finger. “Look at poor, precious, pathetic little Emerald. She literally begged me to enthral her - to take away her agency and make her my personal fucktoy. She’s always tried to make out that her smarts made up for her magical incompetence, but how smart can she be if she’d just hand herself over to me like this?” Still gripping Emerald by the face, Freya nodded her head from side to side. “She thought I cared about her. She thought I was her friend. Maybe she even thought I loved her! Did you, Emerald? Did you love me?”

“Yrs, Mrstrss,” she managed to say through her squashed mouth.

“Priceless!” Freya released her as she gave an over-the-top belly laugh. “I guess she’s actually pretty stupid, huh? She signed up to be my property, my stupid little sex doll, thinking I’d never do this to her. And why? Because she’s weak. So weak, she has to rely on someone else to look after her, protect her, control her. Probably started out because she didn’t have any magic so she was looking for a saviour, and somehow she got it all twisted into a fetish along the way. Dumb little charmless whore.”

That was a word Freya had never used to describe Emerald before, even amidst the most intense, brutal verbal degradation.

‘Charmless’.

The word they used to refer to non-magical humans. It wasn’t meant as a derogatory term, but it could be used as one when applied to those with all a sorcerer’s heritage and knowledge but none of the ability. Freya had never thrown it at Emerald before, knowing how insecure she was about her lack of magical power.

If Emerald’s mind had been her own, she would have wept. Instead she stood there and took it, as placidly as ever.

Freya kept going, forcing her enthralled girlfriend to confess their most intimate secrets. She made Emerald admit that she couldn’t touch herself at all without permission. She made her explain how they’d been using voodoo so Freya could play with her property from a distance. She made her describe the runes she’d been given, and how each of them worked. She made her tell a rapt, increasingly flabbergasted and derisive audience how she was persistently denied orgasm, and when Freya was kind enough to grant her one, Emerald was usually too mindless to even feel it. All the while, Freya continued to grope and pinch and slap her like the plaything she was, calling her any demeaning name she could think of. “My property,” she hissed, grasping her hair and nodding her head up and down. “My cuntlicker. My cocksleeve. My stupid, slutty little charmless fucktoy.” She planted her hands on Emerald’s shoulders and pushed her back to her knees, yanked her by the hair onto all fours, and sat down on her back.

Jeers could be heard from the crowd, cries of ‘slut’ and ‘freak’ and ‘charmless’. Emerald grinned cluelessly up at them from her position on the floor, utterly content, her mind unable to recognise the mockery.

Until Freya’s hand, surrounded by a pale blue aura, waved in front of her face.

Emerald blinked, her vacant smile fading away.

Oh. Oh no... Oh, Goddess...

She could feel the stone beneath her hands and knees. She could hear the hooting laughter and barrage of taunts from her fellow students. She could remember everything that had happened for the past ten minutes, and realise how she felt about it.

Please, no...

Feeling a weight lift from her back, she remembered that Freya had been sitting on her like she was a bench. Scrambling away from her, she pivoted and fell back on her butt, staring up at her in horror, praying she would see some remorse or concern on her face. Praying that she cared about how all that had affected her, that she was misremembering how her girlfriend had behaved while she was enthralled, that some part of the girl she thought she knew was still there.

All she saw was a cold, vindictive sneer.

“What’s the matter, precious?” Freya said smugly. “Aren’t we having fun any more?”

Emerald’s blood pounded in her ears. Tears blurred her vision, thankfully obscuring the sight of her girlfriend’s malevolent expression. Her breath was coming shorter and sharper by the second. She was on the verge of a panic attack.

She had been enthralled in front of perhaps the entire student body. She had been felt up, and struck, and forced to loudly and happily confess the secret details of her sex life. Freya had betrayed her trust and her privacy.

She’d called her a charmless. She’d mocked her for her feelings, and ruthlessly kink-shamed her.

She’d made her profess her love for her, and then thrown it back in her blank, docile face.

She couldn’t... This was... why, why, Goddess, why, Mistress, why?!

With a pitiful squeak that sounded to her own ears like the howl of a wounded animal, Emerald leapt to her feet and sprinted out of the hall, a deafening chorus of cruel laughter ringing in her ears behind her.

She charged down corridors, barging past indistinct shapes of students and teachers, rendered unrecognisable by her streaming tears. Finally reaching her dorm room, she threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. Hating Freya for what she’d done. Hating everyone else, for watching and laughing.

Hating herself, for how hard she was - throughout the experience, and even now. As the vivid memories of her utter humiliation raced through her mind, she had to fight the urge to hump the bedclothes.

All those times she’d thought that she’d do anything Freya asked of her even without being hexed, no matter how public or degrading, had come back to bite her. If she’d handled it differently, it could have been a dream come true, rather than her worst nightmare. It had been, objectively, everything she’d wanted - and yet, at the same time, it was the exact opposite. Emerald’s mind was at war with itself, caught between how horny the whole incident had made her, and how heartbroken she was that it had happened at all.

It wasn’t even that Freya had been cruel to her - cruelty, in general, brought her pleasure. It was the specific kind of cruelty. The dismissive, callous, disdainful way she’d treated her, like she truly didn’t care about her at all. More than that - like she actually detested her. Using all her insecurities about her lack of magic, her intellect, her deepest fears of what her lust for being enthralled said about her as a person... It went far beyond the harsh treatment of a Mistress - Freya’s usual dominance - and into outright, targeted, sadistic bullying.

Freya once said that she didn’t really think Emerald was worthless. That she truly was precious.

She had lied.

She had lied to get Emerald to do whatever she wanted, to gain her trust, to win her heart - and then break it, shatter it, disintegrate it into a trillion tiny shards, in front of everyone they knew. She’d stood up for her against Livi, helped her defeat and humble her... She’d spent almost every day for three months with her... Been her date to the Halloween party... Invited her to spend Christmas with her family, and then came to hers for New Year...

How could all of that have been a lie? How could it not have meant anything? Was Freya really that evil?

Emerald wished she could believe it wasn’t the case. She wished she could convince herself that it hadn’t been Freya - that she’d been enthralled, or that it had been someone else wearing a glamour. But Freya had been animated, conscious, talking and making decisions without having to be told or guided. Even if someone had been directing her telepathically, there would still have been a time delay - and Emerald would have recognised the blankness in her eyes.

So no, she hadn’t been enthralled. And it was no disguise. She smelled the same.

It was her. It was all her.

She had played her for a fool all these months, and then completely destroyed her in front of the whole school.

Emerald cried until she had no more tears to shed, and then kept crying.

Just as she was running out of steam, exhausted from her own weeping, and about to pass out into a desolate sleep, she felt the pull. “Noo,” she sobbed as her body dragged itself out of bed and towards the door, which she hadn’t even bothered to close when she’d stormed in. “No more, please, Mistr-” As engulfed as she was once more in feelings of terrified, awestruck servitude, she cut herself off before she could finish that title. Whatever Freya did to her now - however strong her hold over Emerald’s mind was - she wasn’t her Mistress any more. Never again.

***

The bedraggled, bereft figure of Emerald emerged from the main school building onto the sports field, plodding across the bright grass. She barely registered that she was being drawn out into the evening sunshine, the usual reverence and arousal induced by the leash rune drowned out by her utter despondency. She still shivered and throbbed at the thought of what Freya might do to her, but was too disconsolate to be that excited. At least, that was what she insisted to herself, every time her cock rose higher than her self-esteem could allow.

A tiny spark of hope ignited inside her, despite her best efforts to smother it. What if Freya was summoning her to apologise? What if she really hadn’t meant to hurt her so badly? What if it had all been part of the usual act, part of their dom-sub dynamic, and she’d just got carried away?

She loathed herself for even vaguely entertaining the thought. Freya didn’t get carried away. She had known exactly what she was doing. She set out to hurt Emerald as much as possible - to break her heart - and now she was coming back for a second helping.

There was nothing she could do about it. The runes held her tight, and even once they wore off, Freya had an arsenal of magical skills and tricks she could use to keep Emerald subjugated, beyond even the enthralment hex. Not that the hex wouldn’t be enough.

She had knowingly handed herself into slavery, and now her owner had shown her true colours.

The worst part was, she still wasn’t sure she even wanted to escape.

Well, of course she did. She didn’t want to be the property of someone who despised her, as Freya clearly did. She wanted a caring owner. A Mistress who adored and valued her.

But property didn’t get to choose who owned it. And even if she somehow broke free, did she have any better options? No-one else would ever be as kind and loving as Freya was - as Freya had pretended to be. So she could either be controlled by Freya or someone equally abusive, or not be controlled at all. She knew, on an intellectual level, that the first option was worse. She didn’t want to be owned by someone who clearly didn’t love her.

But the thought of never being enthralled again, never being dominated again, never being treated like the submissive slutty property she was... She was almost having another panic attack at the very thought of it.

Not for the first time (but for the first time in many weeks), she wondered what was wrong with her. She’d just been put through the worst psychological torment she’d ever endured, and yet she was still too needy and horny to want to be freed from her submission. Not that it mattered. She had no choice.

For better or worse, she was Freya’s property.

“There’s my little bottom bitch!” Speak of the traitor. Freya’s taunting cut through Emerald’s reverie, and she realised she had reached the other side of the field, on the edge of Hexbourne Woods. Her owner stood before her, alone, a crooked grin on her face. With a mournful whine, Emerald dropped to her knees at Freya’s feet. Cackling harshly, the blonde witch patted her on the head. “Good girl. I was starting to wonder if you’d even turn up - if maybe the rune had worn off.”

She began circling around her kneeling slave, who bowed her head defeatedly. “Did you enjoy that little show in the dining hall? I sure did,” she continued, not waiting for an answer. “I can’t tell you how much I’d been looking forward to it. All these months, waiting to show you off to everyone... waiting for you to be fully, willingly under my heel, so you wouldn’t put up even a little bit of a fight. Not that you could fight me, but... it’s just so much better knowing you handed yourself to me - body, mind, heart and soul - never realising what I was gonna do to you!” She clapped her hands together giddily. “It’s glorious! Worked out just how I planned it. Well, I say I planned it - I mean, we did. Me and my boyfriend.”

Emerald hadn’t thought her despair could grow any worse, but she’d clearly underestimated Freya yet again. She stared up at her with wide, glistening eyes. “Boy - boyfr-friend?” she stammered.

Freya fell about laughing. “Didn’t see that coming, did ya? Yeah, we’ve been planning this together from the start. It’s been hard, sneaking around behind your back, not letting you find out about him. Hard, but kinda hot.”

A fresh waterfall of tears fell from Emerald’s eyes. “Why?” She’d meant to shout the word, but it came out as a plaintive sob instead.

“Why? Why did I do all this? I’ll tell you why, Emmie.” Freya bowed down and leaned in close to her ear, as if confiding a secret. “Because... it’s fun,” she hissed, grinning savagely right in Emerald’s face. “So, so much fun, tricking you for all this time. Making you fall head over heels, and give up your free will to me, before showing you just how fucking stupid you’d been. And showing everyone else as well.” She straightened up again. “Charmless freak,” she spat. “You’d have been thrown out of this school years ago, but you always had your big brain to fall back on. Aceing all the tests, proving you knew magic as well as anyone, even though you couldn’t fucking use it.”

Freya wasn’t smiling any more. She was snarling her insults through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with hatred. Emerald shrank and squirmed even more under her furious glare. “You never deserved to be here. They only let you stay because of your heritage, and your intelligence. And now, you can’t even count on that. How could you ever call yourself smart, when you fell for my act hook, line and sinker? For months?”

Emerald shuddered miserably. She couldn’t argue with that. She’d been thinking the exact same thing.

She was a dumb little whore who wanted so badly to be controlled, she’d given herself to the first person who’d offered, never seeing the true extent of her evil. Until it was far, far too late.

“I just wanted you to have all that in your head, Emmie, before I clear it out,” Freya said offhandedly. “I want your last thoughts to be about what a fucking stupid whore you are. Just a brainless, charmless cuntlicker who gave yourself to someone who hates you.”

She raised her ring hand, the blue gemstone beginning to glow once more.

“Please,” Emerald mumbled, head hanging down, staring at the grass beneath her.

“‘Please’ what, slut?” Freya taunted. “‘Please, let me go?’ ‘Please, enthral me?’ ‘Please, hurt me some more, Mistress?’”

“Please don’t ever bring me back,” Emerald blurted. “I can’t, I can’t take this, don’t bring me back... I don’t want to feel like this any mo-ohh-ohh...” She interrupted herself, unable to continue as her distress overwhelmed her and she dissolved completely, weeping and wailing like a baby.

She wanted to be enthralled, forever. She welcomed it. Not just because the thought of it make her traitorous dick so damn hard... but because she wanted to be freed from her suffering. To never have to think about how completely and utterly Freya had destroyed her. Her image and her self-esteem (such as they were), her trust, her heart... All gone, leaving a yawning void of pain and misery within her. She might as well lose her mind too. At least then she’d be ignorant to her own plight.

Freya’s hand reached down and cradled her soaked face, a perfect imitation of the affection she’d shown before today. It felt like more mockery now, being treated with the kindness she’d used to show her. “Oh, sweetie,” Freya said softly. “I’m sorry... but that’s not really up to me. Because this is the last time I’m gonna see you.”

“Wh-what?” Emerald snivelled, trying to focus her blurred gaze on her owner.

“The last time anyone’s gonna see you,” Freya continued, her tone calm and even, an utterly malignant smile spreading across her face. “Why d’you think I brought you here, brainbox?”

Ice flowed through Emerald’s veins as the meaning of Freya’s words dawned on her. “No,” she whispered, horrified.

“Of course, I could keep you, and keep you enthralled constantly,” the witch mused. “Use you as my slave, slap you around, publicly humiliate you some more... Got to admit, it’s very tempting! But if I’m completely honest” - she leaned in close to Emerald’s face once again - “I just don’t want to have to see your stupid face any more. And I don’t see why anyone else should have to, either.”

Her words were a fresh dagger through Emerald’s heart. She closed her eyes and shook Freya’s hand off her face, crying out in utter torment. Here she was, utterly defeated, bound and helpless, ready to be used and degraded as much as Freya wanted... and she was throwing her away. She had failed as property. And that made her truly, utterly worthless.

“Goodbye, Emerald,” Freya chuckled. “I won’t miss you.”

Emerald was curled into a foetal position, still on her knees, rocking herself back and forth. Broken. So she never saw the hex coming. But when she felt it sweep away her thoughts, and her deep grief, she embraced it, giving herself over to blank oblivion.

When Freya had her stand up, her face was still wet with tears, but she was smiling dazedly. It was all alright now. She felt perfectly fine.

“Walk into the woods, and keep walking,” Freya told her, overcome with almost orgasmic glee as she gave the command.

“Yes, Mistress.” And off Emerald went, between the two nearest trees, striding purposefully forwards into the forest.

Towards the Dark Woods.

***

If Emerald had happened to glance to her left, and downwards, as she’d crossed the border into Hexbourne Woods, she would have seen a body slumped behind the nearest tree, obscured from the sight of anyone who happened to be standing outside the forest. But her entranced mind was only focused on obeying Freya’s command, and so she didn’t look.

Freya watched her go with wild eyes and a demented grin. But once Emerald had vanished into the midst of the trees, Freya’s face suddenly went slack, her eyes glazing over, as blank and placid as her girlfriend.

Moments later, the prone body jerked to life, scrambling upright and strolling towards Freya. As she did so, two other figures stepped out from behind more trees, further along the tree line.

“That was fucking amazing,” Jemma cackled.

“Dude, I can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” Georgia gasped. “I felt for sure that little nerd would twig what was really going on.”

“Please,” Livi snorted. “I’ve been working on this plan for months, practicing my astral projection and my ‘evil Freya’ character. Nothing was gonna go wrong. It never even crossed poor little Emmie’s mind that her stuck-up bitch of a girlfriend wasn’t really the one doing all that to her.” Reaching out, she grabbed Freya by the chin and waggled her head from side to side. “That was beyond satisfying,” she sniggered. “The perfect revenge - best served four months later, just when they least expect it.”

“Yeah, no-one’s gonna remember the shit they did to us any more,” Jemma muttered ruefully. “They’ll be talking about Emmie the enthralled slavegirl right ’til graduation.”

“And beyond,” Livi remarked.

“So, what do we do with her now?” Georgia asked, nodding towards the enthralled Freya.

“Well,” Livi said mock-thoughtfully, “I do believe a student of Hexbourne Academy just went to the Dark Woods, never to be seen again. And from what I hear, this girl just enthralled and humiliated her in front of the whole school, so that puts her pretty high on the list of suspects. Don’t you think?”

Jemma and Georgia both snorted with laughter. Freya automatically giggled along with them, even though she was incapable of understanding what was so funny.

“It’s our duty, as students, citizens, and sorcerers, to bring her to justice,” Livi said solemnly. Then she smiled that evil smile of hers once again, still holding Freya by the face. “But I don’t see why we can’t have a little more fun with her first...”