Chapter Thirteen - Witches

I had a few days of reasonable stability and dared to think that this might be the new normal. I served the Bigs at meals, I went to my classes - no indication from Mrs. Bishop that she'd heard anything bad about me, I went to my extracurriculars, and I took my tutoring in magic. Back in our room, it might as well have stayed silent. Marie didn't say a single word to me and not once stepped foot on my side. If we hadn't shared a common doorway, we might as well have been in different rooms. She had her side, I had mine.

In gymnastics, I was quickly improving - it wasn't just my imagination. I really wasn't such a pathetic wimp anymore. I still had a lot of strength to build and my attempts to keep up with Michelle's natural talent had me sore for two days after, but at least I wasn't embarrassing myself. Ms. Azucar noticed:

"Whatever you've done, keep it up," she said. "You'll probably never be a great gymnast... you're starting too late, and you've got those." She pointed at my boobs. "But you might be competition-ready. I want you and Michelle on your conditioning tiaras following Rajani."

With the help of the tiara, I managed a handstand and a few stretches that I'd have considered physically impossible. In-between exercises, I chatted with Michelle, catching up on the state of things in the Beginner dorm since I'd left.

"Simone and Cassie are going to Advanced in a week and a half... so pretty soon, It sucks that everybody's leaving - some of my favorite people and the one Big who isn't a total bitch," she said. "But it's tolerable, I guess. We've decided to draw lots to see who gets punished every few days. I mean, punishments are good now, I guess? But we don't want to do it too often or it'll be obvious that something's up."

"Might want to stretch them out to once a week," I said. "They keep careful records about that stuff - I've seen the books - and a sudden uptick will mean something's up."

Michelle nodded. Her usual pigtails were done up in a bun - mine were, too. That much hair was completely impractical to gymnastics. As it was, my volume of hair was still occasionally inconvenient, even reined in as much as physically possible. It was like wearing a tightly-wound hair helmet. As soon as I had the chance, I'd get it cut.

I snuck out twice to meet with Club little in the Beginner dormitory also. That was expressly forbidden, of course, but Emi let me in - who could blame poor ditzy Emi for letting her friend into the dorm? We convened in the common area, huddled and whispering around the little couch circle as the hour approached midnight.

"Is the Advanced place, like, way different?" Emi asked.

I shrugged. "A little bit nicer, decor-wise. But the Advanced Bigs are awful... like Cecilia on steroids. They act like they own us - and I think some of them literally think that. But I'm going to work on that."

"How?" Simone asked carefully.

"Slowly," I said. "You can help me figure it out when you get there."

It was good being back with my littles - in some ways, it was like nothing had changed. But, really, a lot had changed in that short amount of time. I was gone, some new girls would be coming in after the winter semester (two littles and a Big, I assumed), and now my old stomping grounds were forbidden territory. Somebody must have ratted on Emi letting me in, because the Night Matron, Ms. Rust, caught us. She crept into the lounge (which the Beginner girls weren't supposed to be in after curfew) and then stormed into our little circle, some parts of her generous figure taking longer to subside than others.

"What's the meaning of this?" she snorted.

Before she could get a good look at us, I bolted - Ms. Rust couldn't get me in trouble if she didn't know who I was. I heard somebody behind me scream (Emi, I think), and I soon found out that Ms. Rust was a lot faster than she looked.

"Stop!" she called out. She cursed, rushed after me, and managed some sort of spell. A gust almost bowled me over, and only a bit of gymnastics tumbling kept me on my feet. "Stop!" This second magical attack hit me square between the shoulders and pinned me to the floor. I understood enough about magic at this point that I might have undone her spell (assuming I could move my fingers... yes, I could, a bit), but such a blatant display would invite even more trouble.

Ms. Rust walked up to me, shined a flashlight in my face, and tutted. "Troublesome girl," she said. "This deserves punishment." She pulled my pajama bottoms down, even as I was pinned to the floor with my chest squished down and my butt slightly in the air. Bedroom doors cracked open. Heads poked out. And, under the gaze of a dozen morbidly curious girls, Ms. Rust manipulated her bracelets, muttered under her breath, and delivered five quick smacks to my bare butt, leaving me stinging and slightly changed. How she knew my new punishment without my rule book there, I could not say (I'd later discover that there is a 'shortcut' that the staff can use to access our latest punishments that is the same for each student - but that this only works for simpler disciplinary actions). Afterward, I had to feign a contrition that I didn't remotely feel. Was I braver (or, at least, less fearful)? More resistant to magic? Hard to say.

"The rest of you, don't think I've forgotten this - back to your rooms, back to your beds," Ms. Rust commanded. "And you..." she lifted me to my feet. "Don't think I won't bring this up with the headmistress. Come on."

She led me back to the Advanced dormitory, crossing the dark, cool, campus in the middle of the night. I wasn't about to stop visiting my friends - my sneaky walkabouts were about the only time we got to speak - but I was going to have to be more discreet about things. I couldn't ask them to risk their own skins by having them sneak out of the Beginner dorm altogether, but I might take steps to make sure Ms. Rust didn't catch us.

+++++

As far as punishments went, I got off pretty light - lots of embarrassment, but no unwanted changes (maybe even some wanted ones) and life went on. Life in the Advanced dormitory had some distinct differences from life with the Beginners. Beyond the everyday differences - different classes, different (much worse) roommate, and an even worse stable of snooty, entitled Bigs - were the greater privileges we were afforded, at least theoretically. For instance, on our weekly day off, we were permitted to leave campus for approved social outings. These were generally (but not always) with the boys of St. Lovelock's, our sibling institute. Interaction with young men of our same social class was seen as important to the development of witch socialites.

You may not be surprised to learn that I was unaware of this privilege until the day before my first outing, nor that Marie von Schurr wanted to use a control collar on me. All of the Advanced Bigs used them on their littles - no surprise there - and the littles had grown accustomed to the practice. They were old hat at being horribly treated.

"Look, little," Marie said. She tossed the collar onto my bed and waited expectantly. "It's like this... if you don't put that on, it'll look bad for both of us. I'll be the Big who can't control her little, and you'll be the little disrespecting St. Lovelock's... again."

I shrugged. "Why do they deserve our respect? And how does my subjugation suggest respect? It suggests servility - and aren't we the equals of the boys?"

"Look, I'm not going to discuss the nuances of gender dynamics with you, Natalie. Put it on and I promise I'll owe you a favor."

This was the most equanimous that Marie had ever been with me, and so I was inclined to humor her. It wasn't like the collar worked well on me, anyway... and I had an ace up my sleeve. I'd been reading about methods of control, coming across a little tidbit of information not known to most magic students, not even Advanced ones. But Marie would soon learn it.

"Fine," I said. I shrugged my little shoulders, clipped the collar on myself, and permitted Marie to swab around it with the binding solution.

"Off we go," she said with a sly smile.

I went along with Marie's control for all of dinner, going without food myself as I served and abased myself before them. Her control was good - probably a bit better than Cassie's - if not more nuanced, it was definitely a bit stronger. Marie had an extra year of training under her belt and was, apparently, at least a respectable talent. She had me mince around, serving her and her Big friends - notably and especially Tiffany Chalmers. I cut their food for them. I smiled and curtsied. I even dabbed at their mouths with their napkins.

"How may this pitiful worm serve you?" I said in a voice that wasn't quite my own - I don't think Cassie had ever made me speak.

"Dump the remainder of this in the bin and then lick the plate clean," Tiffany said coolly.

And I did. As gross as it was to lick the leftovers of her fire-roasted corn and chicken Kiev, I did it. It didn't hurt that I hadn't eaten yet and was pretty ravenous after gymnastics practice.

"Mine, too, girl," Marie said.

I felt her slacken the reins of control. She wanted me to do this of my own accord. And I did so with a smile and a little curtsy afterward, blotting the corners of  my mouth with my washcloth.

"I'm finished, miss. Shall I serve you dessert?"

"Serve my friends first," Marie said.

It so happened that the little cups of blondie sundae for dessert were pretty delicious and Marie got sidetracked. Her friends had all finished theirs by the time she started on her cup. I indicated to her that I wanted a word, and she shrugged.

"I'll catch up with you guys in a minute," she said. "I have some pointers for my little." Once they'd left, she shot me a bored look and gestured vaguely. "Speak."

"I'm not pleased with how you treated me today at dinner. I allowed you control to see what you'd do with it..."

"Allowed me control?" she snorted. "Kneel."

I didn't kneel. She shot me a second impulse to do so - strong enough that my knees trembled, but I didn't and wouldn't kneel to her. Marie's expression was equal parts confused and frustrated, her expressive lips pulled into an off-center pout.

I sat across from Marie, smiling primly. "Interesting fact about control collars - their action is formed by a voluntary pact, not a blood pact, which means they are - in principle - two way. Why... a control subject who knew the right symbols just might turn the tables on her controller..."

"What?" Marie said. She shook her head. "You... you couldn't."

"Maybe not," I said with a shrug. I wiped a kernel of corn from the chest of my uniform. "Why don't we test it out? Marie von Schurr, I want you to give me your dessert. Go ahead and slide it over to me."

She was clearly resisting - good for her. Her hands trembled, her brow knit, and she pushed the sundae over to me.

"Good," I said. I leaned forward and ruffled her hair. "Now... I want you to sit and watch and think about what you did while I enjoy this delicious treat."

She did, looking on with fear and anger as I devoured her whole dessert, just the two of us in the dining room. Back in our room, she said not a word about the incident. And it was with that chastening and humility in mind that we went into our social affair with St. Lovelock's the next evening.

+++++

The late afternoon was just cresting when we headed out. The limousines, driven by wordless dark drivers in dark clothes, pulled up along the main road closest to the dormitory. I picked out a nice little white and green dress from the school's wardrobe and fitted it to myself. It had enough of a collar that, combined with my generous helping of coppery, pink-streaked hair, it might conceal the control collar that I would be expected to wear. To anybody who didn't know me, I might just be an unusually petite girl of the regular, non-controlled variety.

Then it was off to the evening's activities, rumbling down the school's cobblestone road and out into the streets of an old New England hamlet (or, possibly, an Olde England one - they look similar when observing them through dark-tinted windows). Soon, we arrived at a stately mansion - gray stone, brick paths, and neoclassical columns. It wasn't the Old Abbey, but it was plenty large for a gathering of our size, some forty Advanced girls filing along as a similar host of boys from Lovelock's also arrived. There was no grand introduction in the entryway, just mingling and happy acknowledgment as the girls from St. Circe's met up with their St. Lovelock's counterparts.

"Will, it's good to see you," Marie said. I followed half a pace behind her, subservient, but plausibly just the lesser among friends.

A broad-chested boy in an evening jacket turned to face her, smiling broadly. A smaller, slimmer, white-gloved boy in a white tuxedo followed in his wake. A St. Lovelock's counterpart to the St. Circe's littles?

"Marie! Hi! Can I get you a drink?" His eyes flicked over to me and then up and down, but he didn't ask for introductions nor offer me a drink.

"Sure, I'd love one."

Wordlessly, the slim boy in the tuxedo pivoted and strutted off to fetch those two drinks. I looked about nervously - I spotted Magnus, who managed a flicker of eye contact with me. Then I spotted a few of the boys from my 'stepbrother' Lucian's orbit laughing and drinking with some St. Circe's girls around a billiards table. I didn't spot Lucian, but he probably wasn't far off - and he'd want to finish his unfinished business with me, no doubt. I might have the toolkit in hand to resist him now, but if I did, the word would certainly get back to Rowan Bryce and I couldn't have that. Without another word, I headed toward Magnus.

"Where's your thrall going?" Will asked Marie.

She shrugged. And glanced at my trajectory. "I, um, I owe a favor," she covered. "I'm using Natalie to pay it off."

"Must be some favor," Will said. Then they were behind me and I was weaving through the crowd to Magnus.

I almost didn't recognize him - he'd changed quite a bit since our meeting during the Harvest Formal. And I suppose he almost didn't recognize me, either, because he did a double-take when I approached, my broader hips wiggling in my evening dress in a manner he obviously found quite becoming. Not particularly small before, Magnus had filled out in terms of height and breadth - his shoulders were bulky and broad in his evening jacket, his hazel eyes half-hidden beneath a sweep of thick brown hair. His jaw was dusted with stubble - that hadn't been there before, either. And me? Well, I was a more well-rounded individual in a lot of ways. Very well-rounded, indeed.

"N-Natalie?" Magnus said. His eyes flicked up and down my body - my dress wasn't daring, but it did me some modest favors.

"Magnus." I flashed my friendliest smile and made smoldering eye contact. I tried not to be intimidated at how large he was, easily north of six feet and two hundred pounds.

He pushed his hair out of the way and managed a familiar goofy smile. "You want to...?"

I nodded. "I want to be not-here." I gestured vaguely. "I don't want Lucian finding me - and he'll be looking soon if he isn't already."

Magnus's expressive lips drew into a sneer, his brow drawing down - he hated Lucian, too, evidently. Bonus points for Magnus.

He escorted me down the hall and into a small room, his hand barely brushing against the small of my back. My cheeks were flush and my butt added a bit of extra wiggle. My body was aware of his presence and it had Ideas, even if my mind was psychologically conflicted about them. We entered a small waiting room - just a chair and a couch to sit in, an end table, a shelf, and a few adornments filling it out. Magnus pulled the door shut and slid onto the couch. I took in the dim, sleek-paneled area. It had probably been repurposed into an intimate meeting area from a pantry or something.

I sat in the chair - I hadn't sat in many comfy chairs recently and this one was positively huge to my small frame. I sank a bit too far in it and giggled.

"I'm surprised they give thralls such leeway at St. Circe's," Magnus said. He regarded me uncertainly.

"Thralls?"

He shrugged. "I know they do things a bit differently there... that you're technically a student..."

"Technically nothing," I said. I did a quick manipulation of symbols and pulled off my collar, tossing it to him. "See? I'm a student, and a good one at that. But what are thralls? Those boys in the silly tuxedos?"

Magnus nodded. "It's pretty awful. They aren't even students - they're given over by their parents by way of debts or something, and they're basically..." he tapped at my collar, limp in his strong hands. "Whatever this is, but twenty-four seven. Maybe a third of the students have thralls - to teach them command and control, I suppose. But it's pretty awful if you ask me."

"You have one?" I asked.

Magnus bit his lip and nodded. "Not here. I don't take him out. I don't do anything beyond what I have to - and sometimes less than that, which is why I've been punished to this." He gestured to his chiseled body. "No complaints there, but it's the mental component I don’t like. But I won't let them change me. I'll free Terry the second I graduate - I'd do it earlier if I could. There's something perverse about orders given with no option to consent... and I'm supposed to become commanding, looking and feeling like this..."

Something about that made my heart flutter. "Are you?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "And I suppose you're supposed to be a meek little thing, aren't you?"

I laughed. "Supposed to be. But I'm not. To wit, I'd love to chat - really - but maybe I should see about saving my sister littles first."

"You go out there, you'll get us both in trouble..."

"Big commanding Magnus, afraid of a little trouble?" I hopped from the chair and paced over to him. He sat up, one meaty hand upon his knee, his hazel eyes like golden circles reflected in the dim light. "I don't have my collar on - who's to say I'm not just any other girl."

Magnus stood, and I stifled a gasp - I'd thought Cassie had an imposing amazon-esque figure, but he was probably four or five inches taller than Cassie and substantially broader, and in the small room that seemed absolutely huge. I looked way up at him, his features calm and friendly, my control collar still in his hand. He ran his other hand along my slim shoulder.

"You're not any other girl."

"Part of me isn't a girl at all," I said, though I wondered whether I was trying to convince myself.

"Just… well, be careful."

I nodded, my brow knit in determination, and crept out of the room. I had it in my mind to do something similar to what I'd done during the Harvest Formal. There, I'd broken up a number of attempted rapes and kept my fellow littles (excepting poor Helena) safe. I barely knew the Advanced littles, but they didn't deserve any worse treatment than the girls I knew did. Whatever was happening at the behest of their Bigs was unacceptable. They weren't thralls, and they certainly weren't playthings for the amusement of the St. Lovelock's boys. I made it about five paces down the hallway before I found myself behind three boys, two of them pretty average-sized (which was still a lot bigger than me) and one of them even larger than Magnus. When he spoke, I felt the low resonance of his voice shaking the air.

"You're sure you saw her?" he asked.

I ducked behind a marble pillar, pulling my mass of hair back, lest it dangle into view. "Yeah, I saw her... Lucian said small and hot with red hair..."

"And?"

"And she was really small and really hot with really red hair. I thought I saw her going in with that trans freak Magnus."

"Well let's hope you were wrong... we'll get in trouble again if we mess with him."

"Okay... I'll take him if it comes to it. I can take the punishment. You scout the end of the hallway, you sweep around, and I'll check the rooms. Meet me in the lounge in five minutes - and bring the girl if you find her."

I backed away as quietly as I could, tiptoeing back to the safety of the little room. Not fast enough - one of them turned around. I darted the rest of the way to the room and pulled the door open as quickly as I could.

"Hey!" One of them called after me.

I darted inside and ran face-first into Magnus's chest. Lucian's lackey rounded the corner a second later, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out toward the hallway. But before he could commandeer me, Magnus gripped the boy's wrist and wrenched it away from mine. The force hurt my skin and I yelped.

"Do we have a problem?" Magnus rumbled through clenched teeth.

"No... no problem," the boy said, and he backed out, pulling the door shut behind him.

"I... thank you!" I said, wrapping my arms most of the way around his waist. "They almost got me..."

"Well..." Magnus sighed. "I guess we're stuck in here for the evening, then. I'm not about to let that asshole Lucian get you. Care for a game of cards?"

"I haven't got any cards."

"Me, either... so..."

"So let's chat?"

We started as we had before, with Magnus on the couch and me in the comfy chair. Before long, I transitioned over, curling up next to him on the couch. We talked some more, and around the time I got to explaining my complicated relationship with Lucian and the Bryces, I transitioned to Magnus's lap. It was, I vaguely reasoned, a better position for speaking face-to-face since he was so much taller than me. Cassie and I did it all the time, and with him I was even more size-appropriate.

"And that's why I have to figure something out - otherwise, as soon as I graduate, I'm pretty much a sex thrall forever."

"That's fucked up," Magnus agreed. "I guess my own circumstance isn't so bad."

"It's still bad, though," I said. I felt something hard under my butt, frowned, and wiggled. Which made it worse. And it took me a moment to figure out why. "Um... are you?"

Magnus blushed adorably. "Sorry... I don't usually do that... it's the friction. I'm still figuring out how to control the damn thing."

I wiggled again, just to tease him. "You never do. He has a mind of his own, and sometimes he calls the shots. More often than not, really."

That earned a strange look from Magnus. "And how would you know?"

"I used to be a dude. For way longer than you were a chick."

"Oh... right!" Magnus sighed. "It's easy to forget, with you... you know..."

I did know - I was about the most un-masculine person I could imagine. I'd gained a little musculature of late, but it was all sleek and slim, not bulky male muscle... I resented the idea that I'd been made defenseless and weak to satisfy some perverted epitome of femininity. No, women could be strong and feminine, but just in different ways from guys. Cassie was about the most feminine person I knew, and I'm pretty sure she could crack a coconut with her thighs. But the point was that I was about as far from manly as you could get, even though I used to be a pretty masculine guy.

"You must think this is pretty gross," Magnus said, misinterpreting my moment's consternation.

"Why? Do you think I'm gross?"

Magnus pulled away for a good look and, clearly, didn't find much objectionable. He pulled me back and I cosied into him. I giggled. I realized, with a bit of a blush, that I was crushing like a teenage girl. Fancy that. I ran my fingers along the stubble of Magnus's face, rough and bristly, and looked into his eyes, into the intensity of his curiosity.

"Pretty much the opposite of gross. Um… you're making it worse," he said.

"Am I, now?"

And that's how Magnus and I ended up fucking, completely out of the blue. Truth be told, half the reason I did it was to give Cassie a taste of her own medicine - how would she like it if Natalie got some side action? Hell, with her I was the side action. So I was impulsive, but I also really wanted to do it. My coy smile passed some threshold of restraint, outright destroyed it, and flipped a man switch in his brain. Magnus lifted me up with a grunt (from him) and a surprised squeak (from me) and he tossed me back onto the couch. Then he stood, shucked his jacket to the side, and unbuckled his belt. When I reached forward to help, he intercepted my wrists, held them over my head, and lowered himself into a deep kiss, his lips against mine, his tongue mingling with my own. Then he released me at his leisure. With frantic fingers, I unstrapped and unzipped my dress, because he was about a second away from ripping it from my body and ruining the poor thing. As soon as it was loose enough, he yanked it right off me, taking in the sight of my body, my creamy skin, my heaving breasts, my curvy little frame in nothing but little glittery heels and lacy green lingerie. Despite his frenzy, though, Magnus had the presence of mind to rein himself in for a moment.

"You... want this?" he asked.

"God yes."

Did I ever. I wanted him in a way I hadn't known I'd wanted anything - I lusted after Cassie, yearned for her touch, and savored her response to my own attentions. But that wasn't so different from the eros I'd experienced as a horny teenage boy twelve years before. But something about Magnus's masculinity also resonated with me in an utterly unfamiliar way, the turgid yang in my sexuality clicking in next to the yin of sapphic sensuality. Suddenly, we were two scions of love rutting in the presence of one another.

The first thing Magnus did was pin me down, pressing me helplessly against the couch and pistoning into me. I was already deeply wet, and he was rigid, pulsing and ready. I made little mewling moans at the sensation of being penetrated - it was a lot different than having a finger or two inside myself, and Magnus had the presence of mind to coax my little clit as he thrust. Then, after a minute, he grabbed my thighs and dove in face-first, speaking in tongues at the altar of my sex, and that drove me wild. I screamed in more ecstasy than I'd ever felt before - more pleasure, frankly, than I knew any human being could experience. I very nearly passed out and, as I struggled to keep my hold on reality, I wondered whether I should return the favor - and didn't find the prospect altogether unpleasant.

Before the night was through, I would get a chance to find out. But for the moment, we were sated, and we cuddled on the couch, a loopy smile plastered on my face when we weren't engaged in little nothings of conversation. Around eleven, we got the call - our time at the mansion was over, but that didn't mean we had to call things off for the night. According to Magnus, the St. Circe's and St. Lovelock's students took turns hosting 'after-parties' on the respective campuses, and this week was St. Circe's.

"I've never been there," Magnus said with a shrug. "I always go straight back - why would I want to stick around for this debauched nonsense?"

I could think of a few reasons, but nodded anyway. "But you're coming this time?"

"You're damned right, I am."

We took the limo back to St. Circe's and got out near the dorms. Our drivers, as always, were wordless, expressionless, and possibly-not-people. And if this event had chaperons, they were doing a good job staying inconspicuous. We got out of the limo and strolled around St. Circe's in the dark. I was cold - it was autumn night and I was in a flimsy silken dress. Magnus, now a consummate gentleman, offered his jacket and downplayed his own shivering. It fit my tiny frame like a huge cloak and smelled of his cologne.

There wasn't much to see in the night, but the dark and empty buildings, the topiaries, and our dormitory. Lucian might well be there, and I very much wanted to avoid him. But, I remembered, Dr. Clay kept a little greenhouse behind the school conservatory, and I thought that might be worth a visit.

I led Magnus back there, clicked the lock open with a bit of witchcraft I'd picked up, and then wandered into the humid warmth of the greenhouse. It was cozy - only about forrty feet square, and Magnus could probably touch the roof at its highest point if he stretched. But there were fragrant flowers and a little stone bench in there. Magnus sighed and did a bit of magic to shine some light out of his left cufflink. I plucked the other one from his sleeve and tried the trick, getting it right on my second go.

"That was your first try?" he asked, clearly impressed.

"I've had a lot of practice ordering the symbols," I said. The bench was narrow, so there wasn't much room to sit, so I sat on his thigh. He was already aroused again. "Uh-oh. I'd be a poor hostess if I left you unfulfilled."

"You don't have to..." Magnus said without much conviction. Already, he was adjusting himself for better access.

I undid his trousers and reached in, feeling his hardness. It felt huge in my small hand, and was above-average by any metric. Then I brought my face down to it, gave it a tentative whiff (to be honest, it smelled mostly of my own fluids), and got to work. It didn't taste like much, and something about it felt right... it was a kind of service I could accept or even enjoy. And I loved the deep groan my attentions elicited from Magnus. There was something deeply satisfying about so thoroughly pleasing my partner, about getting that feedback of my skill (apparently, I was a natural prodigy - go figure). I even got off on it, myself, running warm and wet within a few minutes. Though, as I might have expected, the part at the end was a bit unpleasant. But I felt he'd want me to swallow, and so I did.

"Good girl," he chuckled.

I hit him on the arm - my hitting Magnus anywhere was a symbolic gesture at best, unless I really went for a sweet spot. "I'm not going to do that again if I think you don't appreciate me."

He sighed, stretching out his sweaty, well-muscled body. "Of course I do. But role-playing is okay, right?"

"Sure..." I sat on his lap, looking out into the night as Magnus ran his fingers through my soft hair. "I'm all for games... but the 'docile servant girl' thing is a bit of a sore spot. But this is good, right?"

Magnus nodded. "I'm glad you think so, too. We do this every other week - I'll be thrilled not to be the odd guy out, getting bored by the billiards table while everybody else has their fun and then heading home at eleven."

"Intercept me before Lucian gets to me next time and I'll be your docile damsel all night," I said. "But, fair warning: I kind of have an ongoing thing with Cassie and I'm not about to end it."

"Far be it from me to spurn competition," Magnus said. "Fair warning: I may not be entirely cloistered at St. Lovelock's, either. So we'll enjoy this for what it is."

"Big mood," I agreed.

We shook on it to seal the deal and I escorted him back to the limousine, kissing Magnus goodnight in the moonlight, his strong hand on my backside sending my heart still aflutter with unfamiliar emotions. I sauntered back to the dormitory to find the orgy in the common area winding down and no Lucian in sight. I tiptoed around the lovemaking, not wanting to get in trouble, and definitely not wanting to get drawn in, should my presence rekindle any arousal (it wasn't out of the question). When I returned to my room, Marie was already asleep and deeply disheveled, her evening gown half-off and her short hair a tangle.

I went to sleep happy, satisfied at how astoundingly well the night had gone. I did not expect that the next night would be the polar opposite.

+++++

The next day started with more good news, with Cassie and Simone being elevated to Advanced. Simone had definitely put in her time and, like me, Cassie was an interesting case: a girl who, despite astounding success in some areas, was still badly off-kilter in her behavior plan. Ideally (I suppose), a Big doesn't become besties and fuck-buddies with her little, especially when that little has discipline problems of her own.

So Advanced had a new Big and a new little, but there wasn't much excitement about it at the breakfast table. Most of the Advanced Bigs were nursing hangovers from last night's event. They would get in trouble for it, too, if they allowed it to interfere with their classwork. Thus, they spent the better part of breakfast groaning and mixing up magical hangover cures.

Cassie managed to sidle over to the little table and wrap me in one of her amazon death hugs. "What's with them?" she asked gesturing toward the Big table.

Once I got a chance to breathe, I told her: "We had a social with the boys from Lovelock's yesterday - Advanced gets to do that on off days, bee-tee-dubs - and I take it our Big friends got suckered into some kind of drinking contest. Then there was an orgy in the lounge with more drinking..."

Simone gasped. "Oh no! The Lovelock's boys? Did you..."

I shook my head. "I did not get mistreated. But I didn't manage any daring rescues, either." I looked to our fellow littles - they hadn't said anything of note this breakfast, but that was par for the course. Were they traumatized? Who knew. Then my voice dropped to a whisper: "plus... I might, kind of, maybe have a boyfriend."

Cassie squealed loud enough to make Tiffany cringe at the other table - she was among the deeply hung-over. Cassie pulled me into another amazon death hug. "A boyfriend? Natalie, what the fuck? Really?"

"Believe me, I wasn't expecting it, either. But, yeah. Magnus."

Cassie unf'ed. But her brow also knit in concern. "Scandinavian. Nice. But I thought you were… you know… a lesbian."

I ran my hands along Cassie's blouse, the cotton fabric taut against her bounteous frame. Yup. She still did it for me, too - unf. "It turns out, friend Cassie, good friend Cassie, that I am also deeply, emphatically bisexual." I squirmed around enough to kiss her on the lips, my eyes staring into hers. She was still uncertain, and it was adorable. "I always look forward to Nat and Cass time, and I'd hate for boys to get in the way. We could do away with boys…"

"But he's so classy," Cassie whined, though I could tell she was thinking about something other than class.

"I've got class. Maybe you and Liam can double-date with Magnus and me… and maybe do a lot more than date?"

"Gross," Simone said.

"Um... ew...?" Cassie said, though she didn't seem to feel too ew about it. In fact, I could see the Cassie gears moving as she pondered the logistics. "Not ew," she concluded. "Should I tell Liam?"

"Honesty is best… but, somehow, I don't think the young lord will be too broken up over sharing."

The rest of the day went about as well as I could have hoped, right down to my doing a perfect cartwheel in gymnastics - fast progress! I navigated Simone through our common classes - Best Behavior, Upper Maths, and Physical Conditioning, and then put in some time at the headmistress's office learning her color-coding system and cleaning out the secretarial closet. It was a good day - I headed out to supper in high spirits.

Now, before I continue, I should reiterate two things. First off, meals with the Advanced Bigs is a bit different from meals with the Beginners - the Advanced Bigs demand a lot more in terms of service and the littles dutifully give it to them. This was the order of things. As she was now rooming with Cassie (lucky!), Simone didn't yet know the drill. Second off, is that St. Circe's is very exclusive, read: expensive. As a result, it has about the demographics that you might expect out of a million-dollar-a-year magic school. That is, we were mostly upper-upper-class white girls. In the whole student body of two hundred-something students, there were only about ten black girls, and only one apiece among the littles and the bigs. Obviously, among the littles, it was Simone. Among the bigs, it was Asha Pierce.

I don't know the history here - if Asha felt like she had something to prove among the Bigs... or maybe she felt that Simone had something to prove among the littles... maybe race had nothing to do with it. I'm not sure. But she took an immediate disliking to Simone and was going to see to it that everybody knew.

Once dinner started, us littles, including Simone, served our Bigs... and then Simone then went back to the food table, took her own, smaller platter of dinner, and sat down to eat. Just what the Beginner littles did. The rest of us littles busied ourselves with getting utensils, napkins, and so on ready, with me pulling double duty to cover for Simone… none of the Bigs were getting subpar service. But Asha Pierce wasn't having any of it.

"Hey little, what the fuck?" Asha called out. And, when Simone looked up from her food to notice that none of us had joined her to sit - "Yes! You! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Simone responded with a deer-in-headlights stare. "Um... eating?"

"Yes, very fucking funny." Asha stood from per place, stormed over to the little table, and loomed over Simone. Actually, she couldn't quite loom over her - Simone was a bit taller than Asha. But she weighed a lot less (for now - courtesy my behavior plan edits, Simone had some filling out to look forward to, but not until she triggered the change).

"Sorry... what's wrong?" Simone asked. "I didn't, like, get the memo."

"I don't, like, care," Asha said. She took Simone's plate and upended it on the table, steak tips and mixed greens spilling everywhere. "Around here, littles don't eat until the Bigs are fucking done. Until then, you do whatever we say. Got it?"

"Um... yeah... sorry," Simone said.

I almost said something then and there. I already had a reputation as a 'rebellious' little, and I'm sure I could have weathered a little more punishment. But I kept my mouth shut - I locked glances with Simone and offered a nod of encouragement, and that was about it. Simone unfolded herself from her seat and, with her maid's uniform dangling like doll clothes on her spindly frame, she proceeded to serve the Bigs with the rest of us. Lesson learned, right?

Apparently not. When she bent over to refill Asha's drink, the girl sighed. "A piece of your food on your damn uniform just fell in my drink."

"It didn't," Simone said (because it hadn't), shock then flashing across her face as she realized she'd just contradicted Asha.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No?"

"I think you are. Well I'm not lying - you got a crumb of your fucking food in my fucking drink because you've got a mess dangling from the chest of your uniform. So take it off."

"Excuse me?" Simone said. She looked at me.

"Don't look at the other littles. Look at me - I'm telling you to take your uniform off. It's dirty and I won't be served by a filthy girl."

Shaking and sniffling, Simone disrobed until she was down to her underclothes - a white bralette and white cotton panties contrasting against her mocha skin.

"You don't even have tits - no need for that," Asha said. She lifted the bralette off of Simone, and she was too shocked to do anything in response, not even cover up. Now she was topless in front of everybody, her ribcage visible through her skin, her barely-there breasts and their coal-dark nipples on display for all to see. "Now - you may serve us."

None of the Bigs said anything to contradict or chastise Asha. Not even Cassie - who, to be fair, was like me: looking on in utter shock, not quite sure how to respond. But now Simone was crying, covering her gaunt chest with a slim forearm and shuffling back to refill Asha's drink. Something inside me snapped - I snorted, advanced at the table, and bent to retrieve Simone's uniform. As I did so, I picked a tiny piece of Pacific wild-caught salmon off the front of her blouse.

"We littles are told to obey our betters, but I have a hard time believing such mean and entitled bitches are better than anybody. Enjoy your dinner, girls."

I muttered the words under my breath, drew out the symbols while holding the bit of salmon held between two fingers, and then flicked the morsel of fish at the Big table. Suddenly, all of their food and drink tasted like rotten fish - the odor emanated up from the table almost immediately.

"Ew!" Tiffany Chalmers exclaimed, pushing her plate away. "Did she just do magic?"

"You're fucking right I did. Act your age and maybe I won't do it again."

+++++

The immediate fallout from that, of course, was that I got hauled off to administration and had to wait around in the custodial closet for thirty minutes for Doctor Sauvage to show up to punish me for my impertinence.

"I know that the headmistress, against my objection, has put you on some sort of witchcraft tutelage. So be it. You've clearly the talent for it. You are not to do any of it in view of the other students. And it is absolutely forbidden that you use it against any other students, whether or not they detect it. Am I clear?"

Instead of pointing out that I'd only done magic against a table containing the Bigs' dinner, not against any student, I said: "Yes, doctor."

"Do it again, and we shall have to return to your behavior plan to add punishments for this specific infraction."

"Yes, doctor."

I didn't want that - any close scrutiny of my behavior plan by Sauvage might well reveal that I'd tampered with it. Bad news bears, that. So I'd have to stay out of trouble of the magic-using particular sort. I left her office pinker of hair, firmer of muscle, extensiver of tattoo, and with the specific directive not to use magic against the Bigs. Or at least I couldn't have them tattling on me about it.

Cassie intercepted me in the lounge, pulling me into a hug and apologizing for not helping out. That was fine - her second-guessing the other Bigs on her very first day wouldn't have done her any favors and I needed her to have reasonable social standing if I was to leverage our friendship to advance my plans.

"I had no idea that things were so bad with the Advanced."

I nodded, pulling out of the hug. "Or so good if you're a Big."

"That's not fair," Cassie said. "It's no my fault I'm in this fucking clique. Blame my dad."

"I'll be sure to mention it when I see him."

"Please do!" Cassie laughed. "You look like you could use a shower!"

That garnered an enthusiastic nod from me - I had my very special shower buddy back. There were some perks to being Advanced, even if you were a little like me. For instance, our showers were very nice marble and ceramic tile, all done up like a Roman bathhouse. And the stalls were private - four luxury-sized stalls with door locks. Cassie and I plodded in, clad in just our robes, and stripped naked as we entered the stall. I admired the musculature of her butt and thighs and reflected that the metallic blue that now highlighted her hair somehow worked. That and the tattoos made her look like a serious badass. I doubted very much that, despite increasingly firm musculature and half my smooth body now sporting tattoos, I would look very threatening to anybody at all.

"Nice ink," Cassie said, tracing her fingers along the leaves and vines, some of them forming occult symbols. They literally formed the symbols, too - the vines shifted, the leaves rustled and, as your angle changed, so too did the overall shape. What implications magical tattoos held for witchcraft, I was unsure.

"I like yours, too." I ran soapy fingers across her, down the intricate patterns of her tattoos - floral and vines and leaves like mine for the most part, neat lines forming the impossible geometries of occult symbols.

"Natalie!" Cassie gasped. She ran her palm down my belly, stopping just short of the treasure trove. "You've got actual abs! When did that happen?"

I laughed out loud - she was right. I poked them - nice and firm. "Just this afternoon. Thanks, doc!"

Cassie pulled me against her and we stood in one another's embrace in the warm spray. "I can't wait to see you flipping around in your little leotard," she said, giving my ass a possessive squeeze. Then she bent down and whispered into my ear: "Let's see how flexible you are, firecracker."

If I haven't mentioned it already: very flexible. So very flexible. And, with that flexibility, I introduced Cassie to the world of world-class cunningulus. Liam, apparently, thought himself somewhat of an expert at the craft and, in bad, florid verse, had suggested he might show Cassie just how good. But, unless he'd crammed in marathon sessions in his few years of sexual maturity (Cassie assured me that he most certainly had not), there's no way his experience could equal my busy decade devoted to the art. We both left the shower very clean and on very wobbly legs. There was no competition between myself and Liam, as we occupied very different realms in her fuck-space - he was Cassie's Boy and I was her BFFuckbuddy - but, had there been, he'd have lost, 34th in line for the British throne or not.

+++++

I was in a very favorable state when I stumbled back to my room, warm and clean and freshly-fucked, giving Cassie a final peck on the lips before ducking back into my room. Marie wasn't yet in bed, or in the room at all - unusual, given that she was an early sleeper. No matter, I prepared myself for bed and was soon down for the count, visions of Magnus and Cassie dancing through my head.

When I woke up perhaps three hours later, it was to less happy circumstances. It was pitch black and I was being simultaneously stripped of my clothes and smothered. The instant I tried to scream, tendrils of fabric wrapped around my mouth, muffling all sound. I heard whispers and a giggle or two and then I was grabbed by a dozen(ish) hands and dragged out of bed. Despite being swaddled in binding cloth, despite being blindered and gagged, I could feel the cool air of the outdoors. I was carried and, at times, half-dragged across the school lawn, the grass cool and damp in the autumn night air.

They half-carried, half-dragged me along for perhaps ten minutes, shaking me or prodding me roughly whenever I got too squirmy. Then I was dumped unceremoniously to the ground, spared a concussion only by my beyond-adequate mass of hair. Then the binding cloths went slack, dropping to the cold ground about me and evaporating into nothingness.

"Wh... what the fuck is this?" I said, my voice carrying every bit of the fear I felt.

I struggled to my feet, cold and naked in the dark. In the pale moonlight, I could see several figures in front of me and... yes, behind me, too. I was surrounded by six girls - the seven Advanced Bigs, minus Cassie. A moment later, they lit their flashlights in practiced unison and confirmed their identities.

"You guys, this isn't funny..."

"You're right, Natalie," Tiffany said. "It isn't funny. Practicing witchcraft against your classmates isn't funny... least of all your betters. Who taught you your little trick? Cassandra Petersen?"

"What? No!" It would have made sense to say 'yes' - after all, they weren't supposed to know that I was receiving school-sanctioned instruction. But I wasn't about to throw Cassie under the bus. "I found the magic section in the library months ago and I've been studying from it ever sense."

That lie, at least, made sense. There was a secret section of the school library, a door hidden to the uninitiated but beyond which were perhaps fifty introductory tomes on witchcraft and magic. There were a hundred books in all, fifty to stay in the library and fifty that could be checked out, though usually only ten or so were out (which says something, I suppose, about the dedication of the average St. Circe's student witch). But - and this I discovered myself - if you really searched for it, there was another even better-hidden door within that little room, beyond which was a cramped chamber with hundreds of other, more-advanced, far more-esoteric volumes. These you could check out only if you could tell the librarian the correct password for each book (the pattern to which I'd deduced in short order - a story for another time). In any case - my statement to the Advanced girls currently threatening me was mostly accurate.

"Littles aren't allowed to learn magic," Valerie Trieste stated incorrectly. "We could get you in trouble for that alone... but we had something else in mind."

"Tonight is your lucky night, Natalie Penelope Bryce," Asha said coolly. "Tonight, you get a warning - your first and only warning. Beyond this night are only pain and suffering if you cross the Sisterhood of the Starry Night."

I was, of course, an initiate into the Sisterhood - but none of them knew that. Nor did I think it a good idea to bring it up. I just nodded dumbly.

"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice.

"Not yet. But you will be," Tiffany said. "What say you, Sister Marie?"

"She has broken our ways, has flaunted her disregard before us, and has used magic against us - she must be punished," Marie von Schurr said with a sneer - surely, a pre-rehearsed line. And in the dim light of electric lanterns, I could see that she among all of them was uncertain. She'd seen what I was capable of and knew that my knowledge and talent, at least, easily surpassed her own.

"Very well," Tiffany said. "Let us begin."

So they did, holding hands and chanting. They'd somehow learned my middle name - deliberately kept off all the school records for all students. They'd learned it, in fact, from Lucian, my 'brother'. And, not being a witch (not a full one, anyway), my birth name was my 'true' name and could be used to control me. In this case, whether they knew it or not, the girls could only control my body. But controlling my body was enough.

I felt pain. I felt my body lifted into the air, bones cracking, organs compressing, fur (?) growing... they turned me into a dog. A little yorkie, I think. My screaming came out as a pitiful little yowl. My world was filled with odor, with taste, with the fear of the six huge creatures looming in the darkness.

"Now you understand our power," Asha said. "Assuming you can understand words... can she understand words?"

"Better than a smart dog," Tiffany said. "So yes. Mostly."

In truth, I was having a hard time following along. I only knew that things were horribly, horribly wrong. I tried to run, to scamper off, and was knocked back by a force I couldn't comprehend. I yipped in fear, trembling and voiding my little dog bladder.

"We could leave her like this," Valerie said.

"Tempting," Tiffany said. "But no - too many questions. And we'd be in deep shit if she ran off and got herself eaten by a coyote or run over by a car or something. Just know, Natalie, that you are a bad girl and we can and will transform you into this form if you deserve it... or we could..."

I felt myself changing again, my frame growing, limbs and organs folding out and expanding, fur drawing back into my skin and my head hair tumbling back out. Only... it was white and brittle, not the lustrous volume of pink-streaked copper I was used to. I looked at my hand - veiny and liver-spotted.

"I'm... old," I said. Even my voice sounded old.

"Eighty-five or ninety," Tiffany nodded. "Imagine being stuck in that old body for... well, however long it's got. Not too many years I wouldn't think. We can do that to you - transform you however we like and leave you like that."

My whole body felt misaligned, my spine stooped and my posture tilted off. Everything was vaguely sore. And my boobs were floppy things hanging below my navel. My skin was wrinkled and translucent, papery in its appearance. I collapsed to my knees - painful, arthritic knees - and started to cry.

"Please... turn me back," I sobbed.

"Promise you'll be a good girl. Say it."

"I... I promise I'll be a good girl," I said. I would have promised just about anything in that moment.

"Good. Change her back - all but one finger to remember this by."

And they did just that. Hands held and chanting, little rings and amulets glowing with the power of their invocation, they changed me back to my youthful form - all except for my left pinkie finger, which they left shriveled and arthritic as a reminder. I looked at it, knobby and liver-spotted, my full lips trembling.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Tiffany crouched down in front of me, her pale skin pellucid in the twilight, her dark hair onyx in the night. "Remember your promise," she said. "Because we'll definitely remember it. Good luck getting home, sweetie." She patted the top of my head and retreated into the darkness.