Rennard woke with a headache, his body sore from the awkward sleeping position coupled with the wooden floor. Milton remained asleep, front first, naked, forearms tied together behind the lower back. When Rennard lurched his way upright, vertigo struck him like a rock on the head. He closed his eyes to a spinning world and gently lay down again. “Aaaah. Lord help us.”

The Charmer wasn’t in her bed. The large window revealed a bright morning outside. Rennard tried rising again, using his knees mostly. He stood unsteadily, then tried walking. His mouth had never been so dry, his eyes hurting. “Hey, Milton. Wake up.”

His friend grumbled, turning ever so slightly. He met the morning with an instant grimace. “Oh god. Is it over? Is the nightmare over?”

“Whatever dream you had was better than this. Unless nightmare means yesterday.”

Milton too got on his knees, enduring the intense dizziness. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” Rennard’s voice wavered. “I was going to ask you what to do, but I doubt there’s any plan. She’s got us. I hate to say it, but the bitch has us. I don’t care about pride anymore, about winning small battles. We need water. We’re halfway to death. I don’t want to die. But she doesn’t even seem concerned with that. Tell me, what does she want? You said it best yesterday, who tortures someone without asking questions? What does she fucking want!”

Milton sighed, forlorn. “I don’t know. It feels like she’s busy and has important affairs to deal with. But I don’t see what the reason for this is.”

The door opened. It wasn’t the Charmer who entered, but a giant servant, a pale youth with a green gown to her knees. Her brown hair was tied into two braids falling over her shoulders. Pale feet padding softly across the wood, she carried a flask of some beverage and poured it into a container by the bedside. Milton and Rennard ran up to her.

“Miss, please,” Milton yelled.

She ceased pouring and turned her head and looked down at them, two round and green eyes matching her short gown. The girl might have been sixteen, around their age.

“We’re dying of thirst, we beg you for just a small bit of that liquid.”

“Literally dying of thirst,” Rennard added.

They got enough of her attention for her to crouch down, her head perched on top of her two knees. The frock didn’t fall over her knees, leaving the pale flesh of her calves and thighs exposed along her underwear. Two curious eyes observed every bit of their naked bodies.

“Well?”

“Shut up, Rennard,” Milton snapped. “A bit of humility for once, yeah?”

“Hmm, you must be the two ‘promising’ mages the Lady mentioned,” the girl said, a light voice. “There doesn’t seem to be anything special about you, don’t know why the Lady is wasting time on you.”

“Neither do we,” Milton said. “Could we please get just a little bit to drink? We don’t need much.”

“Nope.” Legs unfolding back up, she returned to her towering height and resumed pouring what remained in her flask.

“Come on!” Rennard said, jumping in frustration. “Come, let’s see if there’s any spillage.” They both scurried up between her feet. Looking up, they saw her pillars for legs reaching up to her underwear. She was neither thin nor too bulky, well-built and toned. “Look if there’s any drops.” They searched under her for any droplets, droplets to her, but for their size it was far from negligible.

Milton found a large drop of the yellow liquid on the side of her big toe. It gave him a moment of pause. But just a moment. This was about survival. He got on his knees, bent down, and licked it up. Her foot didn’t have a taste, it was plain flesh. As with the Charmer, and no doubt a trend set by her, the girl had a clean and well-kept body. The liquid had the earthen flavor of a tea, likely from a leaf grown here in Gintessa.

Her reaction didn’t come immediately, and not for a lack of notice. She saw what he was doing, then stared for several seconds, puzzled, then abashed. At last her foot left him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“No, I just—” Looking up to explain, Milton saw a frowning face and a descending sole. Her big and second toe parted, closed around his torso, lifted him up, and with a kick she threw him across the room. Milton helplessly rolled over the floor like a skipping stone.

“Hey, what was that for?” Rennard stepped up in defence of his friend, but backed up when she accepted his confrontation, dwarfing him. “Don’t take it out on me.”

“Your dumb friend was licking my toe. Unless…” Her momentum paused. “Did the Lady tell you to lick my feet?”

“Huh? Of course n—” Rennard didn’t know what she was about to do in her irritation, and saw an easy way out. “Yes, she did. That’s why he did it. Lady’s orders. I think you owe him an apology.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why would the Lady… huh. Fine.” An embarrassment had crept up on her from the moment she noticed Milton lapping away at her toe, and now it showed itself in reddened cheeks. She presented her left foot. “Go ahead then.”

“Pardon?”

“Lick. If the Lady ordered it, then it should be done.”

“Oh.” Rennard saw another chance, studying her feet for traces of tea droplets. Though there didn’t seem to be any.

“Well?” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Listen, when I said that ‘the Lady’ said for it to be done, what I meant was that she hadn’t said it.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Just get out of my way.” She turned around and casually kicked backwards, a gentle slap with the sole to send Rennard bounding across the room to his friend. The girl filled the container and picked up some empty plates along other trash before she was done. She walked towards the door and stopped just before the two boys lying defeated on the ground. “Can’t believe the Lady is going to waste time training this.”

“Train?” Rennard croaked the words. “What part of this torture is training?”

The girl made for the door, but didn’t leave. Blushing, she peered down the hallway, listened, then glanced back at the boys nervously. She returned inside, standing over them, biting her lower lip.

The boys just lay in their misery, barely paying attention to her, until it fell upon them. Her left foot descended slowly onto Milton, and her right onto Rennard, a wall of soft warmth pinning them in place. Her soles didn’t smell. They were relatively clean from a recent wash, but still dusty from the little bit of walking between then and now.

With another glance back at the door to reassure no one was coming, the girl stood on them for a while, then lightly twisted her feet to grind them. Perhaps it was at the sound of someone coming, but in half a second she skipped off and scurried out of there, with a timid look bordering on shame.

Milton licked his lips. “That bit of tea was worth it.”

“I don’t want to speak anymore, my throat’s too dry.”

The morning became noon, the noon afternoon, the afternoon evening, and the boys were convinced they were either forgotten or left to die a slow death. To save energy, they barely moved, letting the hours pass by in a vegetative state. Soon they would have to sleep, wake, and complete two entire days without food and water.

The door opened. The Charmer entered. A spark of life, perhaps one of the last ones available in their body, set the boys in motion. The Charmer wore a velvety robe to the shins, a glowy red with a pattern of yellow flowers throughout. Her dark voluminous hair was untied, falling in long curls behind her back.

“How are my boys doing?” The desperation overcame any shame they had over the state they were in, running up to her feet and falling on their knees.

“You don’t want to kill us, right?” Rennard said. “If you do, do it now. Just fucking end this, for god’s sake. And if you don’t, then give us something to bloody drink before we die.”

She raised a teasing eyebrow, then made an indication to a ceramic bowl in her hand. “What do you think we have here?” Raising the bowl to her lips, she slurped profusely. The Charmer kissed the air and made a satisfied sound. “Is that fresh, cold water from the mountain spring?”

“What do you want? Just tell us what you want!”

“Your undying obedience.”

“We’ll do whatever you want,” Rennard said. “You haven’t even given us a chance to prove it.”

The Charmer brought a thoughtful finger to her chin. “But what happens after you get this water? You’ll do what I say now, but once your thirst is sated, you might grow rebellious, perhaps even vengeful.”

The two exchanged looks. Milton said, “Look, if you’re threatening to have us die slowly if we don’t do what you say, then the answer is obviously that we’ll do whatever you say as long as you don’t kill us.”

“Oh, of course. I will have your obedience. I’m just teasing. Come.” She closed the door and made her way to her bed, placing the bowl of water on the bedside table. When they caught up to her feet, she said, “If the water is in front of you, you do not drink it. You drink it by following my commands. Understood?”

“Yes.”

The Charmer took them in a hand each and placed them on the bed, the plush yet heavy blankets folding slightly to their weight. Her entry on the bed caused a slight decline towards her, but they held steady. Stretching her legs out, the Charmer gathered several pillows against the back of the bed and half-sat against it. She tugged the robe off her shoulders, pulling it down to her waist, freeing her breast which more than fulfilled the promise they had given underneath the clothing. A perfect roundness and size, her pale breast didn’t suffer a speck of imperfection. Not one mole or particular wrinkle besmirched its smooth surface, the nipples an ideal brown-pink.

The Charmer brought the bowl near her, then dipped her left tit into it.

“Of course she would,” Rennard whispered to his friend. “These bitches are getting predictable.”

“Shut up. Just the tiniest bit of assurance that we’re getting water, and you’re right back to that attitude?”

“We do whatever’s needed to get the water, like we said. But after that…”

“I don’t know what happens after. If she starves us through this torture again the moment we disobey her, I think it’s best if we do listen. Keep our heads low and look for a way out.”

“Hushed whispers, I hear,” the Charmer said. “Are you admiring me? Or keeping secrets? Don’t worry, soon enough, you’d rather die than not tell me everything.” She finished dipping her other breast into the water, letting a good amount drip back down into the bowl. The Charmer got into position, picked up the two boys and placed them on her stomach. Due to her half-sitting position, they could reach most of her breast by standing on the beginning of her ribcage. “Go ahead.”

They rushed in, Milton for the left teat and Rennard for the right. Their recently-taken-upon mantra of everything being too good to be true gave them a fear that the Charmer would pull them away after a few seconds, and so they licked violently the first seconds, like wild hounds, taking as much as they could in what might be a brief moment. But no deeper lie presented itself yet, they kept licking, half-kissing and sucking, lapping up all the moisture and wetness without interruption, the room filled with the slippery sound of their tongues against her breast and wet pops from sucking. The water was indeed fresh and cold. Although she was incredibly attractive, her breast smooth and soft, they didn’t pay any attention to that. They didn’t even get hard, a sincere display of the state they were in, their desperation the overwhelming emotion. The water was everything that mattered.

For just a moment, Milton noticed her self-satisfied expression overlooking them and thought about how this appeared to an observer, two broken people enthralled to her, slaving away at her breast. But the taste of fresh water in his mouth, the drops moisturizing his throat, it quickly pushed any qualms away. He didn’t care what this looked like. He had to survive.

Rennard got on his tiptoes to reach the uppermost part of her breast, then lost balance and tumbled down her stomach. The Charmer hummed in amusement. “There’s more.” She dipped her fingers into the bowl and brought them quickly, still dripping, over her breast, letting the water trail down. They caught the streamlets with open mouths and licked the trails, their bodies advancing on her chest, making impressions. But the moment they lost footing, the breast pushed back, reminding them of their smallness. She ordered them to wait by the nipples, and aimed the delivery of new water there, earning herself their mouth-work on her most sensitive part. Milton took her nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, and it had the celestial plushness of cotton candy which wouldn’t melt.

The Charmer seemed relatively unaffected. Beside a satisfied expression, she showed nothing, not a single moan, squirm, the need to touch herself. Like the way she’d worked them with her mouth yesterday, her lovemaking had a strange restraint, as if not done solely for her enjoyment. It contrasted starkly to Ada who’d dominated them to feed her shrieking pleasure. Though it further underscored the question which had been there from the start, what the Charmer’s purpose really was. There was never any command from her to stop. They spent somewhere between forty minutes to an hour licking water off her breast until first Milton fell back and lay on her stomach, then Rennard.

“Thank me.”

“Thank you.”

“Mistress.”

“Thank you, mistress.” All three of them lay until they fell asleep.

Lying in the folds between her robe and stomach, Milton and Rennard were woken by her gentle fingers. “Good morning, my little mages.”

“Good morning, mistress,” Milton said. Today’s waking was infinitely better than yesterday’s. They remained on her soft skin, Milton even nuzzled against it without thought.

“Water was the most pressing urge I can imagine, but I suppose you’re hungry as well?”

“Yes, mistress, we are,” Rennard said, the enthusiasm having found a home inside him, more than just a brief spark.

The Charmer brought a bowl different from the one with water, this one with a spoon in it, likely brought in by a servant this morning. “Come.” Scooping up half a spoonful, she gently tipped the yellow soup to pour over her breast. “A soup made from milk, mushrooms, greens, and cream. Enjoy.”

“Thank you, mistress,” they both said, back to licking, the soup thicker than the water they were used to and requiring a good couple of slurps. After a short while, she asked for their names, and they both answered. As a passing notion, both Rennard and Milton noticed how diligently they referred to her as mistress, despite one brief command before their sleep to adress her as such.

“I want both of you to look at me while you eat.”

“Yes, mistress.” They both did, while the Charmer drank a cup of her tea, yawned, closed her eyes and relaxed. At first, they watched her face because she asked them to. But the act of doing it lost its demanding air. The more they watched, the less attention they paid to the soup, the more they fell, fell into someplace unknown, and after a while they leaned onto her breast and stared at her like one admiringly watches the beautiful constellations in the sky.

“I love you, mistress.” A second after saying that, Milton visibly flinched. He observed his surroundings with a sudden concern, as if he’d been dropped here a second ago. When he saw the way Rennard stared at the Charmer, he didn’t recognize his friend. And if Milton himself had looked like that a moment ago, he assumed something had to be wrong with him.

“So do I,” Rennard said. “I love her too.”

“Rennard.” Milton took a wobbly step over to the other side and headbutted his friend on the back.

“What?” A flush of sobriety overcame Rennard as it had Milton. “Why did I say that?”

Her quiet laugh got their attention, her eyes still closed. “To fully understand my power was difficult. I didn’t know how the charm worked for a long time. I thought it had to be lust, that if they yearn for me, desire for me, I can charm them. It seemed to work that way. My attractive figure would be invaluable in accomplishing that. But there was constant failure. I would bring them to climax, use my body to arouse them, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t charm them. Then I realised. The ones I try to charm are often fighters, stronger enemies who have seen battle, who I have battled and captured. They don’t desire me, in fact, they hate me. The fact that I can manipulate their body, bring about sensual pleasure, it doesn’t mean they desire me. I had to earn such a deep, earnest desire, beyond the shallow want to fuck. I can’t threaten them to have it either, because then it’s fear, not desire. I had to find a way, not to force them to worship me, but bring about conditions where they do it themselves and it’s genuine. And then hunger and thirst came to mind. I starve them. There is nothing so delicious in this world as water when you’re thirsty, something you boys might know well enough now. When your throats were like a barren desert and I poured water all over myself, you’d kill in order to throw yourselves at me and have a taste. And even though it isn’t for my body, that immense desire to slake your thirst is just the right emotion, and that’s what my charm needs. And with all that contact against my body, all that desire, I easily establish the bond.”

“So you tried to charm us?” Rennard said.

“I have charmed you.” The Charmer didn’t seem bothered by his self-awareness. She fumbled for something in the bedside table, her hand coming up behind them. With a small cutting tool, she snipped the bindings off them. They waved their arms around, shoulders sore. “You’re free to leave.”

Rennard and Milton watched each others agape, then turned up to her. “What’s going on here?”

“Did you not hear me? You’re free to leave. The door is slightly open.”

“Just like that?” Rennard extended his arms and worked his shoulders. “You know, for what you had us suffer through, you think we’re just leaving it like that?”

“So you wish to stay?”

“Just to show you a thing or two, right, Milton?”

“Yeah.”

Rennard’s body glowed red from his base magics. “You deserve a beating.”

“Look me in the eyes, take a deep breath, and tell me I deserve a beating.”

“Sure!” Rennard marched up between her breast, fist held back in preparation, flowing with magic. “You deserve… You.” He fell again into that unknown place when he made eye contact. He shook his head. “Fuck.” Rennard took a deep breath. For the hours he’d spent on her body, his nose had gotten used to her lovely scent, yet it felt as if it invaded his nostrils with a renewed presence. His fist wouldn’t move. “You…”

“Don’t.” Milton was beside him, holding his hand. “Don’t punch our mistress.”

“Why not?” the Charmer said. “Did I not deserve a beating? The door is partly open, you can punch me and leave.”

“I don’t want to.” The magic faded, and Rennard fell on his knees, watching his own hands in disgust. “What’s happening?”

“Do you two wish to stay with your mistress?” Her words were irresistible.

“We do,” Milton said, head lowered.

“There’s a reason why I told you everything after the deed was done. The moment you threw yourself at me to drink that water, it was over.” She leaned forward, mouth above their heads, and whispered, “Worship me.”

“Yes, mistress.” They reluctantly went to a teat each, hugged it, and worshipped. There was no urgent thirst or hunger, no restraints, the door open behind them. There was nothing they could say in their heads to convince themselves there was a cause for this. An outside observer would see what appeared as the Charmer and her two slaves, and that’s what it had become. Their kissing and licking was for no reason other than to please their mistress.

“You two belong to me now.”