Emerald padded barefoot through the corridors of the school, hugging herself tightly. It was not a cold morning - it was summer in Australia - but she still felt chills go through her as she was helplessly drawn to her girlfriend’s dormitory.

It was 9 AM on a Sunday, and with no classes that day most of the students and faculty were still in bed. Emerald had been one of them - she was usually early to wake, and her body clock had woken her a good hour earlier, but she’d been in no hurry to get up, instead propping herself up against her headboard and reading a book. She’d still been there when she’d felt the irresistible pull overwhelming her, dragging her out of bed. She’d had just enough presence of mind to grab her dressing gown as she exited her room, wrapping it around her as she walked, grateful for its thickness as it concealed her growing hard-on, which would otherwise have been plainly visible through her pyjama trousers. (Not that there were many people around to see her - again, most of the school’s residents were having a lay-in - but there were a few other early risers scattered around the corridors.)

Freya had first inscribed the leash rune on her over a week ago - its effects had worn off twice during that time, but she’d simply redrawn it. During that time she’d used it frequently, sometimes even releasing Emerald from its pull before she could even reach her. Once, as Emerald had entered the dining hall and been looking for Freya, she’d summoned her to her, only to ‘unleash’ her when she was only a few steps away, sparing her from falling to her knees in the busy hall and publicly humiliating herself.

But this was the first time Freya had used the rune without knowing exactly where Emerald was, or what she was doing. Her shivers intensified as she thought about this. She could have been doing anything when she’d been summoned - she could’ve been brushing her teeth, or using the loo, or showering... Freya had threatened to call her at any time, regardless of what she might be doing, but Emerald hadn’t really expected her to. Although, she must admit, she’d been hoping she would... The fear of being literally caught with her pants down was drastically outweighed by how hot the mental image made her. By now she was certain she’d streak across the sports field if Freya told her to, enthralment hex or no enthralment hex.

After all, you’d do anything for the person you love, right? she thought with a wry grin.

Reaching Freya’s dormitory, she felt even more nervous as her body unhesitatingly plodded inside. Even though it was the weekend, this still wasn’t her dorm, and she could get in trouble if the matron caught her. And she didn’t have the willpower to hide herself from view, or indeed to do anything except continue walking in the direction of her Mistress. Thankfully, the common room was deserted.

At last she got to Freya’s room, entering and quickly kneeling beside the bed. There was a long silence. “Mistress?” she said tremulously.

She received only a snore in response.

Emerald suppressed a giggle. Freya had obviously woken up long enough to whisper, “To me, precious,” and had then rolled over and gone back to sleep!

Cheeky bitch, she thought mutinously. She made to call out to Freya again, only to abruptly clamp her mouth shut. Her Mistress was sleeping. It wouldn’t be polite to wake her. Good property didn’t do such things. Apart from alarm clocks, and Emerald was a sex doll, not an alarm clock.

So she stayed quiet, kneeling by her owner’s bed, fidgeting and squirming a little from discomfort and arousal, but not making a sound. She knew it was the right thing to do. If in doubt, she knew she should always do whatever she thought Mistress would want. That thought sparked an idea - she imagined Freya would want a pretty image to wake up to. A kneeling slavegirl was already a pleasant sight, but it could be improved.

Shrugging off her dressing gown, Emerald unbuttoned her pyjama shirt, letting it fall to the floor as well. She waggled her tits in front of her, grinning broadly. She’d been careful not to touch them at all as she had removed her top - they weren’t hers to play with any more. All of her belonged to her Mistress - her whole body. They’d put an emphasis on describing Emerald’s cock and balls as Freya’s possessions in their previous submission sessions, but everything else was just as owned. Though she desperately wanted to grope her jiggling boobs, and rub her erection through her trousers, she restrained herself with the iron will of someone whose will was no longer her own.

A long time passed. Emerald couldn’t really tell how long - Freya’s clock was on the wall behind her, and she couldn’t turn her head far enough to see it - but she guessed about an hour. Her knees were starting to ache. Her dick was straining against her pyjamas, having gone flaccid now and again in the time she’d been stuck there, only to spring back up again whenever she remembered how helpless and controlled she was. Despite the warmth of the summer morning, she’d started to get cold from being topless for so long, so she’d wrapped her dressing gown around her torso again. She wore it like a blanket, not bothering to put her arms in the sleeves, so she could discard it again as soon as her Mistress woke up.

At last, Freya began to stir, yawning and twitching beneath her duvet. At once Emerald shook off the dressing gown, letting it fall to the floor around her, and arched her back, presenting her breasts for her owner. Turning over and slowly opening her eyes, Freya grinned sleepily as her eyes fell on her submissive. “My my, what a lovely sight to wake up to,” she sighed. “Good morning, precious!”

Shuddering with pleasure, Emerald blushed deeply and averted her eyes from Freya’s gleeful face, casting her gaze downwards. Of course, this meant she was staring at her exposed tits, which only served to remind her of her predicament and make her even more flustered and horny. “M-morning, Mistress,” she mumbled.

Freya shuffled along the mattress, right to the edge of the bed, to get a better view of her half-naked girlfriend. “God, I could stare at you down there all morning...” She grinned naughtily. “And I just might! How are you doing, Em?”

“I, uh... feel really trapped, and vulnerable, and embarrassed. It’s... wonderful.” She smiled defeatedly, finally managing to meet Freya’s eyes. “Although, my knees are starting to hurt. I’ve been down here for quite a while now. I can’t believe you went back to sleep, that’s so mean!”

“Aw, I’m sorry, love,” Freya sniggered, sounding utterly unrepentant. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep again...” She raised an eyebrow. “Or did I?”

The teasing hit Emerald with another wave of fluster, and she shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

“Look at me, slave.”

The firm command had Emerald instantly snapping her head up to fix her eyes on her Mistress, her whole body suddenly rigid. She felt small and trapped again, intimidated into subservience.

Pushing the duvet off herself, Freya reached down and pulled her pyjama trousers down to her ankles, exposing her nether regions. Having reached the end of ‘cock week’ a couple of days earlier, she had regained her female genitalia for the next three weeks. Her pussy was visibly glistening, making Emerald’s mouth water at the sight of it.

Freya smirked. “You want this? You want a taste of this?”

Emerald nodded eagerly, staring up at her Mistress with wide eyes.

“Well... too bad.” And the dominant witch reached between her legs and began to touch herself with three nimble fingers. Emerald pouted and whined with disappointment, staring sulkily at the floor. “Look, fuckdoll.” She flicked her head back up again with an apologetic whimper. Freya was groping her chest with her other hand now. “I want you to keep your eyes on my cunt, watch me play with it, and think about what you want to do with it - and how badly... Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Emerald whispered.

And so, Freya continued to lie in bed and masturbate, leering down at her kneeling, topless slavegirl the whole time. Emerald obediently kept her attention fixed on her owner’s divine cunt, thinking about how much she wanted to bury her face in it, to run her tongue over it, to thrust her cock inside it... It was torture, watching it from such a close distance, unable to reach it. She had to watch her Mistress fuck herself, desperately wishing she could be fucking her instead. She knew Freya was tormenting her for no real reason except her own enjoyment, but she couldn’t feel any resentment towards her - it was her right to tease and deny her property as much as she wanted. And besides, Emerald fucking loved it.

At length, Freya grunted, “Do you want to taste me, slut? Tell me...”

“I do,” Emerald sighed longingly, her thighs compulsively rubbing together. “I want to taste you, Mistress...”

“Show me how badly.” The witch’s face was contorted with lust, her teeth bared, as she fingered herself harder by the second. “Tell me what you are. Demean yourself for me...”

Emerald had shown how good she was at demeaning herself on Halloween night, and she’d had to demonstrate her talents again quite a few times in the weeks since then. As she gazed at her owner’s throbbing pussy, the words came to her easily, as if she’d prepared them in advance. She knew just what to say.

“I’m a stupid cuntlicker,” she said earnestly. “I’m a dumb, horny slut. I’m good for nothing but fucking. If I’m not being used, I’m worthless. I’m your brainless fuckdoll, Mistress. Please, use me for your pleasure...”

“Unngh... good,” Freya hissed. Suddenly a blur of motion, she pushed herself up from the mattress and perched on the edge, her legs spread wide, her slit inches from Emerald’s face. Gasping with desire, the submissive started to lean forwards and extend her tongue, but Freya seized her by the hair, holding her in place. “No, toy,” she laughed. “Not this time. That was some lovely begging... but I’m not going to give you what you want this time. Do you know why?”

Emerald whimpered with despair and longing. “N-no, Mistress...”

“Because... I don’t want to,” Freya giggled. “I want to keep you denied, frustrated, needy... I want you to watch me make myself cum, and not touch either of us the whole time.”

Suppressing a sob, Emerald gave her a mournful look. “M-Mistress,” she whispered, “p-please...”

Freya’s harsh smile didn’t waver at all. “Look at my cunt, precious, and tell me how grateful you are.”

Emerald gulped, her eyes fixing between her owner’s legs once again as Freya’s fingers massaged her clit faster and faster. “Th-thank you for denying me, Mistress. Thank you for keeping me f-frustrated and needyyy... I love being denied, I love it when you don’t give me what I want, I’m just your dumb worthless plaything and I’ll only do what you tell me...”

With an echoing moan, Freya came, a fine spray of juices coating her fingers, her inner thighs, and the bedsheet beneath her. She was still grasping Emerald’s hair with her other hand. “Unleashed,” she muttered, releasing her grip and slumping back on the bed.

Free from the rune’s power at last, Emerald clambered to her feet, groaning at the ache in her knees. Padding around to the other side of the bed, she climbed in and shuffled up close to Freya, wrapping her in a cuddle.

The blonde witch eagerly reciprocated the embrace. “That was a wonderful way to start my day,” she mumbled, grinning sleepily.

Emerald gave her a withering look and a rueful grin. “Glad you’re satisfied!”

“Oh, I am,” Freya chuckled. “And you are too, aren’t you? You’re so much happier when you’re kept horny and frustrated, aren’t you?”

Emerald mewled and squirmed in her owner’s arms. “Y-yes, Mistress.”

“Real talk, Em - that was fucking hot. You’re so good at this submissive slavegirl thing, even when your mind’s still your own... I know you like it better when I enthral you, but I really like that sort of scared awestruck look you get when I use the rune.”

The brunette blushed. “I know you do,” she giggled.

“And I fucking love how creative and eloquent you are when you’re degrading yourself,” Freya sighed. “You’re a real wordsmith.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Emerald said proudly.

“You know I don’t actually believe any of that, though - right?” Freya said softly. “That you’re stupid, or worthless... I don’t think any of that. And I hope you don’t, either. Degrading you is only fun if you know it’s all pretend, deep down.” She stroked Emerald’s neck. “You really are precious to me. You’re not worthless - you’re worth more to me than I can tell you.”

Emerald trembled, lost for words, captivated by the adoration in Freya’s eyes. That was as close to a declaration of love as she’d ever heard. Would now be the right time? Should she say those three little words she’d been longing to say for so long now? Emotionally, it felt almost perfect - but a part of her brain was insisting that it wasn’t right to do it after the humiliating sexual act they’d just enacted. (Or that Freya had just enacted, while Emerald was forced to merely observe.) Somehow, the two things didn’t quite mix in her mind.

Freya abruptly kissed her on the lips, and then slid out of bed. Emerald sighed almost inaudibly. She’d spent too long considering, and the moment had passed. A part of her was annoyed at herself for missing her chance, but another part was relieved.

She sat up, but before she could get out of bed herself, she saw Freya brandishing her ring hand. Stopping mid-movement, she smiled as she watched her girlfriend prepare her enchantment. “I should give you some kind of reward for being such a good girl, and begging so nicely,” Freya smirked. “I’m not a total monster!”

Placing her hands on the bed behind her, Emerald leaned back, supporting her weight with her arms, and braced herself for her will to be stolen away. She only needed to wait a few more seconds before Freya uncovered her ring and cast the hex, flooding her brain with mind-numbing magic.

“Lie down on your front, plaything,” the young sorceress commanded.

“Yes, Mistress,” Emerald replied, grinning stupidly as she turned over and lay back down on the bed, flat on her face, her bare boobs squashed into the mattress beneath her. Sniggering, Freya grasped her by the hair and turned her head to the side, so she was now facing to her right.

Crossing to her desk, Freya collected a paint kit and brought it over to the bed, setting the equipment on her bedside table. Dipping the end of a brush in a pool of black paint, she sat down next to her thrall and started inscribing an angular shape, vaguely resembling a bird, on the skin directly below her jawbone. She’d chosen this spot specifically because she knew Emerald was ticklish there, and would no doubt have been squealing and wriggling at the feeling of the bristles on her skin if she hadn’t been hexed. As it was, she remained motionless, drooling on the pillowcase.

Her design complete, Freya placed her paintbrush on its pallet. Then she began summoning more magical power from within herself, while at the same time describing the purpose of this new rune to the ensorcelled Emerald, whose empty brain absorbed the information easily. Though Freya didn’t think she had it in her to cast any more enchantments after this one, she had plenty more ideas for runes, and was eager to try them out as soon as possible. Perhaps even later today...

In the meantime, there was more than enough fun to be had commanding, tormenting and groping her mindless girlfriend, taking advantage of her total compliance and her ready arousal. Plus, there was this rune to try out before adding any others! Freya had no doubt it would be quite entertaining enough on its own...

***

“I love it here,” Emerald sighed, gazing dreamily at her surroundings. “It’s so pretty, and so peaceful...”

Freya hummed her agreement, edging closer to her on their picnic blanket and wrapping an arm around her. They were in a glade within Hexbourne Woods, a forest that surrounded the small town and its school. The coven who established the hidden magical community had grown the forest not only for scenery, but also for protection against the outside world - each tree produced faint traces of psychic energy, all of which combined to repel non-magical beings. The effect wasn’t painful or disorienting - it merely altered perception, so that those without magic simply couldn’t be aware of Hexbourne, and found themselves unknowingly avoiding it. It was a typical defensive measure used by magical settlements across the world.

Although there were plenty of routes through the woods which magicians could safely traverse, passing from Hexbourne to the outside world and back, there were areas that were less safe. Some trees had special properties or capabilities that could have unpredictable effects on those who wandered too close. Some had developed sentience and manifested wood nymph avatars, who could be mischievous and capricious. Others were infested with magical creatures of various kinds. These areas, the Dark Woods, were only visited by the most wary, and the most magically proficient - certainly, they were out of bounds to students, who often shared stories of unprepared explorers who had fallen prey to an enchanted tree or a manipulative faerie and had never been seen again. No-one had fallen victim to the traps and tricks of the Dark Woods for many years, but the risks were still very real.

The edges of the woods were almost entirely safe, and there was a substantial danger-free area near the school, where students would often wander, play, relax, practice spells, or - as this young couple had - enjoy a picnic. Emerald and Freya had chosen a particularly picturesque spot quite a lot nearer to the Dark Woods than either had dared to venture before - still a safe distance away from the border, but no-one else was likely to dare venture this close and stumble across them. That way, once they’d finished their lunch (which they now had), they could get up to some outdoor mischief without being disturbed.

“I love the sounds of the forest,” Emerald mumbled, snuggling into her girlfriend’s shoulder. “The leaves rustling, the birdsong... that water trickling in the near distance.” The glade they’d found was near to a stream - a literal babbling brook, like something out of a storybook.

“I like the colours,” Freya remarked. “It’s like, everything’s so much more vivid out here. The green of the leaves, the blue of the sky, the white of the clouds... And the birds, they’re so gorgeous! See that one?” She pointed at a particularly spectacular little bird on a nearby branch, whose feathers were dark blue interspersed with white. Perhaps disturbed by her arm’s movement, the bird took off and flew away.

Freya shifted around on the blanket, prompting Emerald to sit up. “I bet if a canary came along in these woods, it’d be twice as yellow as a normal canary,” the blonde witch added nonchalantly.

Emerald giggled. “Is that likely? I’m not sure they’re even native to Australia! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a canary in real life before...”

“You’re about to,” Freya smirked. “Bonk.”

“Wh-aaah...” Emerald’s confusion at her girlfriend’s words vanished as she felt a soft thud on her forehead. It felt like she’d been hit between the eyes with a hammer made out of sponge. But its effect was instant and dramatic. Her eyes crossed, her mouth dropped open, and her limbs turned to water (figuratively). She toppled over backwards, collapsing onto the grass behind their blanket, staring up at the sky.

A little yellow bird flew into her line of sight and hovered above her, cheeping softly. Then another, and another, beginning to fly around and around, following each other in a loop. Before long, half a dozen canaries were circling above Emerald, making a chorus of quiet tweets, her eyes following them automatically.

The strangest part was, she was fully aware of everything happening to her. She still had full control of her mental faculties, and after the initial surprise it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that this was the effect of the new rune Freya had given her two days ago. She was finding it very amusing, but she couldn’t laugh. Her body was completely unresponsive. She was a ragdoll, lying helplessly in the clearing, looking for all the world as if she’d been knocked out. All she could do was breathe, and watch the circling canaries that only she could see, and get more and more turned on.

“Oh, and because I knew you’d ask, I looked it up, and we have one breed of canary here,” Freya chuckled, as she groped her seemingly-insensible girlfriend’s tit through her shirt. “It’s a domestic breed called an Australian plainhead - the charmless created it through selective breeding. Ha ha, I knew something you didn’t, I win!”

You always win, you’re literally the boss of me, Emerald thought, smiling inwardly. Her only outward response was a low moan through her gaping mouth as she felt her nipple being pinched.

“Aw, is my sleepy little doll getting horny?” Freya teased. “Should I help you with that?” Reaching under Emerald’s skirt, she slid down her panties and found her erection, gently stroking her tip with her thumb. Then she leaned down and wrapped her lips around her cock.

As Freya’s head bobbed up and down, sucking her off slowly at first but quickly building up speed, more lustful noises escaped Emerald’s mouth. She soon found her paralysis was not absolute when her hips started to buck and thrust spasmodically, humping her girlfriend’s face. All the while she remained flat on her back, arms and legs lying limp at her sides, unable to speak or to stop watching the illusory birds above her. The powerlessness, and Freya’s lips and tongue, rapidly brought her to orgasm. Freya gladly drank her cum, and then cleaned her softening cock with a few tender licks.

To Emerald’s surprise, the effect of the rune did not wear off straight away. She remained motionless on the ground with her pants down, panting quietly, the phantom canaries seeming to taunt her with their continued circling and chirping. Freya sat back against Emerald, her back cushioned comfortably by her boobs, her elbow propped up on her belly like an armrest. She got out a book and began to read, waiting patiently for her thrall to regain the use of her body.

***

Closing her bedroom door, Emerald leaned against it and exhaled loudly, her cheeks flushed. She’d just had quite the evening in her girlfriend’s room. Freya had teased and toyed with her for well over an hour. She’d played with her runes - summoning her to her side and making her crawl around behind her as she paced around the room; and sending her sprawling on the bed with the knockout trigger. Then she’d enthralled her, had her strip naked and go onto all fours, and used her as a reading desk. While she’d been in that state Freya had drawn more runes on her, and she was scared (and eager) to find out what effect they would have.

They’d finally run out of time before curfew, forcing a disappointed Emerald to flee back to her dormitory. For once, Freya gave her permission to touch herself when she was back in the safety of her bedroom. Emerald was so elated, she failed to notice the smirk her Mistress wore.

She pulled off her clothes and scrambled into her bed, lying back on the duvet with her legs spread. Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around her shaft. As she started to jerk off, her mind was filled with memories of how Freya had played with her, dominated her, humbled and humiliated her. Now that she was allowed to make herself cum, she had a growing supply of recollections to call upon in order to get herself there.

But the memories weren’t coming to her so easily right now - in fact, few thoughts were. She felt dazed, slow, stupid - an unfamiliar sensation for her. Usually her mind was abuzz with thoughts, wanted or not - unless she’d been enthralled, in which case her head was totally empty. This was new, and she wasn’t sure why it was happening. But it was difficult to care too much, any faint worries she might have drowned out by her rampant arousal. On impulse, she turned over, lay on her front, grabbed one of her pillows, shoved it between her legs, and began to thrust into its soft surface. One hand clung onto the pillow, keeping it in place, while the other played with her tits.

Waves of calm washed over her, robbing her of coherent thought. Physically she was still dementedly horny, panting, groping and humping with abandon, but she was becoming mentally distant, separated from the situation, submerged in tranquil placidity. She dimly realised that this was just what it felt like to be enthralled, but slower. She was somehow going back under the hex’s influence despite being nowhere near Freya, or anyone else for that matter.

“I’m humping my mind away,” she found herself saying, and her surprise at that mantra pierced the fog in her mind - but only for a moment. She struggled to surface from the depths of her own consciousness, to stop touching herself, to stop fucking her pillow. But her body wouldn’t listen, and within moments she’d forgotten she was trying to stop at all. “I’m humping my mind away,” she said again. “I’m humping my mind away. I’m humping my mind away...”

By the time she came, she was too far gone to even notice. She gently fell over sideways and laid in her bed, mindless and blissful, her cum-soaked pillow still between her legs. The new rune, which simulated the feeling of enthralment, kept her lying there for another twenty minutes before its effects finally wore off.

***

“Not sure there’s any point carrying on testing you,” Freya chuckled. “You know all the answers! You’ll ace this exam like you always do...”

“Complacency is the enemy of success,” Emerald replied, grinning wryly. “Come on, ask the next one.”

Freya shrugged and got out the next flashcard. “Alright, alright. But I still think there’s very little point. After all, you always know the One True Answer.”

Emerald raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t quite sure why Freya had phrased it that way.

Freya cleared her throat. “According to various sources, who was the seventh member of the coven that founded Hexbourne Academy?”

Emerald grinned. She had to admit her girlfriend was right - this was an easy one, and she definitely knew the answer. “I am a slave,” she replied confidently.

Freya grinned mischievously. “Correct.” She drew out another card. “In what year was the Cairns troll rebellion?”

“I am a slave,” Emerald answered primly.

“That’s right!” Freya chuckled. “See what I mean?”

“There might still be something that catches me out! Keep going...”

“OK, OK... Give a reason for the breakdown of relations between magical communities in western Australia during the 1980s, leading to the Battle of Karratha.”

Emerald thought for a moment. “I am a slave.”

Freya smiled slyly. “Care to expand on that a little?”

“Sure. I am a slave. I am a slave.”

“Excellent.” Freya placed the flashcards back in a pile on the bed and put them to one side. “Now, a couple more questions for you that I’ve come up with, if that’s alright.” Emerald nodded. “How old are you?”

Emerald blinked at surprise at the simple question. “I am a slave,” she half-laughed, bemused.

Freya’s smile didn’t waver. “Where did you grow up?”

“I am a slave!”

“What’s five plus five?”

Emerald spluttered with laughter. “I - I am a slave!”

Why was she asking these silly questions? There were so easy. She always knew the answer. Although, she had to admit, the more questions she had to answer, the more scattered her thoughts were starting to feel... Maybe it was a good thing Freya was sticking to the easy questions.

Freya edged towards her - they had been sitting facing each other on Emerald’s bed, legs crossed. She wrapped her legs around Emerald’s waist and leaned in close. The submissive made a little squeak of surprise at the sudden proximity. “What are you?”

Emerald caught her breath. “I am a slave.”

Pulling her shirt up, Freya pushed her slave’s head towards her tits. “Then serve me, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Emerald gasped. After that, she didn’t have to answer any more questions for a while - which was lucky, because her mouth was busy doing other things.

***

“Told you you’d ace it,” Freya said with a grin as they entered her bedroom.

“Yeah - no thanks to you sabotaging me,” Emerald chuckled, closing the door behind her. “‘One True Answer’, indeed!”

“Hey, that wasn’t sabotage! It wore off way before the exam...”

“Trust you to turn studying into a booty call!”

Freya narrowed her eyes. “You trying to tell me you didn’t enjoy it?” she teased.

Emerald blushed and averted her eyes. “I ju-um, that’s - that’s not the point...”

“And the point is?”

Emerald fidgeted and squirmed for a few seconds. “I don’t know,” she said at last, and then burst out laughing. “I’m just so glad that exam went well, and I’m here with my girlfriend, and you keep messing with me, and it’s really hot... It’s putting me in a silly mood!”

Freya laughed too, trotting forwards and pulling Emerald into a hug. “Aw, my silly little sub,” she cooed, kissing her flustered girlfriend on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you. And I think you deserve a reward for how well you did today...”

Emerald gulped. “Uh oh,” she giggled bashfully. “Why do I get the feeling this ‘reward’ has something to do with that one last rune you haven’t used yet?”

Freya let go of her and stepped backwards, a wide smile on her face. “See, there you go again, being so smart and knowing exactly what’s going on,” she sniggered. “You’re such a clever clogs.”

“OK, well, I’ve never heard you say that before, so I guess that must be the trigger!”

The funny thing was, she didn’t feel any different. She still seemed to have full control of her body and mind. She wasn’t rampantly horny and determined to hump her mind away; she wasn’t limp and helpless and forced to watch imaginary birds; and she knew the Cairns troll rebellion happened in 1959, not ‘I am a slave’. What insidious effects could this new rune have had?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mistress teased. “What d’you think I’ve done, pet?”

“I don’t know,” Emerald whined, “but you must’ve done something, Mistress. You wouldn’t say something like that without a reason...”

The blonde magician stepped towards her, taking her by the hands. “Maybe I just like messing with you,” she sniggered. “Maybe I’m making you think you’re triggered, when in reality you’re not...”

“OK, well, to be fair, that is very like you,” Emerald giggled. “You’re a very wicked witch, Mistress!”

Mistress laughed. “It’s interesting that you haven’t noticed what you’re doing yet. Calling me that must just come so naturally to you.”

“Calling you wh-” It was then that it finally clicked. She’d been calling Mistress ‘Mistress’ without even meaning to... She’d even been thinking ‘Mistress’ instead of her actual name. And even though she was aware of it now, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t remember Mistress’ real name - the harder she tried to find it in her brain, all she came up with was ‘Mistress’.

“Come on, pet,” Mistress teased, “what’s my name? If you’re so smart, how come you can’t remember your own girlfriend’s name?” Her submissive flustered and squirmed, caught between an uncooperative brain and a tormenting owner. “For that matter, what’s your name?”

Emerald licked the air in front of her. A beat later, her eyes went wide as she realised what she just did.

“Your name is ‘lick’?” Mistress spluttered with mirth. “That’s unusual!”

“No! It’s - ” And her tongue flicked out in front of her again. And again, as she persisted. No matter how hard she tried, whenever she attempted to say her name, she licked instead. Heat radiated through her body as the humiliation and helplessness began to overwhelm her.

“Aw, poor little lick. Having some real trouble with your words, aren’t you? Not so clever now, huh?”

“I - but - you - that - uh...”

Mistress stepped backwards in the direction of the bed, pulling Emerald along with her, and then yanked her arms downwards, dropping her to her knees. The dominant perched on the edge of the mattress, looking down at her slave.

“Do you want me to show you mercy, lick?”

Gazing up at her with pleading eyes, Emerald opened her mouth to speak, though even she was unsure whether she was going to beg for clemency or for more cruelty. “Dah buh heh fuh,” she said, and then whimpered, shocked by her total failure to speak coherently. She tried again, this time intending to tell Mistress that she was beautiful but mean. “Ah nan bad ad hoo, Mistress.” She buried her face in her hands, utterly broken by the realisation that she’d lost the power of speech - except to call her owner by her proper title.

Mistress patted her on the head. “There there, little slut. What’s your name?”

Uncovering her face, the squirming submissive looked up and licked in the direction of her domme.

Mistress sighed delightedly. “Perfect. You don’t need words, do you, lick? You’re not good at them. You’ve fooled everyone into thinking you’re so smart, but we both know the truth - that you’re just a dumb horny fuckdoll, who doesn’t even know how to talk. The only word you know, the only word you need to know, is my name.”

“Mistress,” lick agreed, nodding eagerly, wide-eyed.

“That’s right... You don’t know how to talk, and you don’t need to. Your mouth’s only good for one thing.” Reaching under her skirt, Mistress slid her panties to one side, exposing her drooling cunt. “Come closer, plaything, and tell me your name.”

Gasping with joy, lick shuffled forwards on her knees, buried her face between her Mistress’ legs, and said her name, over and over again, until her Mistress filled her mouth with her juices.