What's Mine Part One by Sillien

What's Mine: A Femdom Fairy Tale, part 1

She should have been woken by the sound of a crackling fire and the smells of her breakfast being made. The cottage should have had a cozy warmth to it, yet a chill was in the air. Serena lifted herself out of her bed and stormed into the center room.

The front door was wide open, allowing the cold wind of an early spring inside. For a moment she wondered if the charm she had cast on her pet’s ankle chain had failed and he was still in the closet. A quick inspection showed that it had not. It set him free precisely at sunrise, just as it always had. A half-eaten pear was left on the table. He ate one every morning just after waking, taken right from the tree outside.

The restraint was hardly necessary. The boy was here of his own free will, after all. In his old life he had his pick of partners. Being the first-born son of a wealthy importer of spices will do that. He was chased by a young baroness, an arch-bishop’s niece, and an alchemist’s daughter, but in the end the boy crawled to Serena’s doorstep.

She’d come to the outskirts of the large town every new moon, when prying eyes couldn’t see. The boy would be waiting in a derelict cabin where he would present himself to sate her sadistic desires. And then one month she decided not to show up. The sneaking around had gotten under her skin. If a witch was not welcome then so be it. She would not be made to feel shame over who she was.

She almost went back after the third month had passed. Those rendezvous, brief as they had been, made the loneliness of being an isolated witch a little easier to bear. He was missed. He had probably found himself a pretty, young, doting bride by now. He most likely lay with her every night, her pussy surrounding the cock that Serena used to slap, and smack, and stroke just to the point closest to pleasure but no farther. That cock that used to belong to her.

That night, the fourth new moon she would have missed, the witch was determined to walk back there to take what was hers. She dressed herself for the trip, gathered up all of her gear, and opened the front door. And there he was. He had neatly piled his clothing next to him and was kneeling right in front of her door, naked. She slammed it shut, not knowing what else to do in the shock of it all. Minutes passed before she had composed herself enough to open it again.

“What are you doing here?” He was staring at her boots and trembling, partly from the fear of her and partly from the cold air around his bare body.

“I...” He stammered and his eyes seemed to be tearing up. “I wanted to know what I did wrong and if I could fix it, ma’am. Please give me another chance. Please, I beg you.”

Serena quickly changed the subject to hide her breaking heart from him. “How on earth did you find me? Won’t they come looking for you?

He chuckled. “There are stories of a witch who lives in these woods. Many variations involve her doing things that, umm... you’ve done to me, ma’am.”

“Oh, I see. Did those stories frighten you? Or maybe they excited you, hmm?”

His face turned red. “Both, ma’am.”

“Tsk, tsk. Such a slutty boy.”

It was his chance to change the subject. “I won’t be missed. Not for some time, at least. It’s thought that I’m on a lengthy pilgrimage, far to the east.”

“Wait here for me.”

She brought him food and water three times each day. On the third she cut off the hair from his head. On the fifth she cut off some of her own. Finally, on the seventh day, she allowed the young man to crawl into her domain. She slipped a hood over his head and secured a collar around his neck. It was a collar made of their own locks, hers wrapped around his. The craft in it would make it nearly impossible to remove or break, barring the use of highly sophisticated arts or sciences.

He had served her for almost three years before this disappearance. He knelt before her, bent over for her, served her and the guests she would entertain from time to time.
It made no sense to her that he would leave know. Selena walked out her door searching for answers.

That collar would lead her to him. It was a bond between the two of them. It was taking her north, down the Moonwillow trail, a very narrow walkway barely wide enough to fit a horse and cart. Trees lined the path and every few feet one would have to step over a thick vine. Her mind began to wander, questioning why her beloved pet would leave her without so much of a hint of warning.

The daydreaming made the hours tick by a little quicker, lost amongst her own musings. Then, some time after noon, she heard the crack of a snapped twig behind her. She spun her head around to see a man standing thirty feet away. She a second come out of the brush to her left out of the corner of her eye, and then a third strutted onto the path ahead. They carried worn, one-handed weapons, a hammer, a hand-axe, and a short-sword. They closed in on her, the leader of the pack tapping his blade on the palm of his hand.

“Where are you heading, young lady? We don’t see too many of you wandering the trail all by themselves.”

“For good reason,” the man behind her chimed in.

“Lil dangerous ‘round here. Never know when ya might run inta bandits an’ such,” said the man to her left.”

Serena closed her eyes. Her lips began to move, but you would have to put your ear right next to them to hear what was being spoken. The men paid it no mind, they just came closer. Grins grew on their faces as little bulges began to grow in their pants. The leader rested the blade of his sword on her shoulder and put just a bit of pressure on her, the subtlest hint she would be given to get down. Lost in her chanting, he nodded at the others. They grabbed Serena and forced her on the ground.

He dropped his weapon and circled around her as he undid his pants, dropping them to his ankles. Just as his hands started to reach for her hips to tear the clothing from her, he paused at the sound of slithering coming from all around them. Before any of the men could get up from their knees, vines shot out from the brush, wrapping themselves around their arms and legs, forcing the bandits to the ground. Serena opened her eyes and lifted herself up off the trail, brushing the dirt from her leathers.

The men began to shout, spitting curses at the witch and tugging on the vines, thinking that they might snap for them. A gesture from her hands directed the tentacles into the men’s mouths, choking and silencing them, pushing in and out. More came from the brush and hovered just behind the men. She took a small knife from her boot and slit their pants right on the bottom.

They struggled for all they were worth, but the men would not get free. Their eyes welled up with tears as the vines slid inside them, thrusting and wriggling, pushing in and out. Serena looked the leader right in his eyes. He was begging her for mercy without speaking any words, pleading with her. She shook her head, turned around, and continued the search for her missing pet.

Another couple of hours brought her to a tall tree. A blanket was spread out beneath its branches with a picnic basket. And next to that lay her pet’s collar. It was broken. Looking at it more closely she could see that it was more than that, though. It was not torn, nor was it cut. It was eaten through, as if by some solvent she had never heard of before. The trail may have ended here, but an important question was answered. A third party was involved in this theft. Serena would find this person. She would question them. And, if necessary, she would take back what was hers with force.

TBC