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Chapter 1

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Dexter switched his jacket yet again. This time to a black leather jacket he had been too chicken to wear previously. It made him feel like James Dean when he looked in the mirror. He ignored the little voice that added “discount” before James Dean. Dexter wasn't the epitome of manliness. But as he got older, he thought that maybe he could make his boyish charm work. Or so he hoped. 

Yes, this jacket was it. Now for the mission. Go to the party. Have fun. Make friends. Be cool. He wasn't the awkward teen anymore, Dexter told himself. He is eighteen now. An adult. Time to act like it and get things done.

Slipping out of his room, he heard loud music from his sister's room. Her door was closed, which was fine with him. Avoiding her meant avoiding a fight. To say they didn't get along was an understatement. Before things could change, Dexter headed down the stairs. She didn't need to know about his plans. He was old enough.

Grabbing his keys, he nearly went out of the door but then saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table. Her face in her hands. Closed eyes. She looked old and tired. It was the stress that had aged her past normal. Being leader of a nationwide witch coven would do that to a person. But this was different. Right now, she looked like fifty, instead of forty. 

“Mom. You are home!” His mother barely acknowledged him. Not a good sign. “Are you alright?”

She looked up. Fatigue evident on her face. Still, she managed a weak smile. “Dex. I wish I could say yes. Be a dear and grab me an ibuprofen.” Just as Dexter was about to head up the stairs again, his mother shook her head and gave a faint chuckle. “What a great witch I am. Hundreds of spells to lessen pain, but a mundane pill works faster. Figures.”

Faking the stairs two steps at a time, Dexter slipped into the bathroom. Ibuprofen should be in the mirror cabinet. Which one? He opened one of the three little compartments and knew it had been a mistake. Things exploded out and whirled around his head. Too fast to see. He felt them attacking his face. It was over in seconds. Overcoming his shock, Dexter saw his face in the mirror. It was made up like a woman ready to head out for the night. His blood began to boil, but he tried to simmer down. 

All the water he splashed against himself didn't do shit. Alexis - his sister - must have used some spell to fix the make-up in place. Dexter grabbed the pill-bottle for his mother. But more to have something to let his frustration out. The skin of his hand turned white as he squeezed the bottle. Breath in. Breathe out. It didn't help. 

“Alexis!” Of course, she didn't hear him. Damn loud music. Something snapped within Dexter. Two could play the game. Yes, there were the traces of the magic she had used. It was easy to lift the pattern up. To revive it. Reinforce. Give it a new target. Once again, the many make-up utensils took to the air. Now swarming behind Dexter, instead of attacking him. Like an angry hive of bees, they surrounded him. An airborne army ready to strike.

With force, Dexter opened his sister's door. As always, her room was chaotic. Sitting on her bed, Dexter couldn't make out what Alexis was up to. A school book was open. As was her grimoire. And her laptop. But at this moment, she was typing on her smartphone. The surprise attack was complete. 

Her own make-up utensils had turned against her. Swooping in and applying their purpose onto her face. But contrary to Dexter, Alexis wasn't stunned and fought back. Or tried to. The result was less than perfect. More like a caricature, modern art, or clown make-up, than a professionally made up face. 

Revenge! It was his!

“Mom!” Alexis cried out while rushing out of the room. “Dexter used magic!”

Oh, shit! Dexter ran after her. This was bad. He shouldn't have snapped. No matter how much Alexis deserved it. 

“Mom, look what Dexter did to me! He shouldn't use magic.”

“She started it!” Dexter protested at the same time. “She trapped the bathroom cabinet with her magic. It doesn't even come off.”

“ENOUGH!” One word was all it took to shut up the siblings. Giving not quite silence as the porcelain in the kitchen cabinets rattled for a few more seconds. Roslyn Hawthorne was not to be trifled with. That, even mundane objects acknowledged. A few seconds passed while Roslyn buried her face in her hands. Fighting her headache. Then - quieter - she spoke up again. “Dex. Pills please.”

Right. Dexter sprang to action. Grabbing a glass from the cabinets and filling it with water. Then taking out two pills and bringing them to his mother. She took it without saying anything. Not even looking at them. Seconds passed. Then minutes. Finally, the matriarch of the Hawthorne clan looked up. Fixing Alexis with her piercing eyes.

Deceptively calm, she asked: “What happened?” 

Of course, she asked Alexis first. Rubbing in the fact that Dexter, born as a boy, always took second rank in this family of witches. It was unfair but voicing it out loud would only lead to more trouble. 

“He used magic!” A little spittle flew from her mouth. “And look what he did.” 

She really looked horrendous, but all amusement to this fact had left Dexter. He knew he was in trouble. But maybe telling his side might persuade his mother to show leniency.

Roslyn Hawthorne turned to her son and then did something unexpected. She tilted her head. Slightly. It was a tell only few people could recognize. She was a shrewd woman, Dexter knew. More than just the matriarch of the family coven, but also one of the witch community appointed congresswomen. Many had underestimated her and Dexter knew that while her look at him was neutral, her mind might be steps ahead. To what end, Dexter couldn't tell. 

“I was getting the pills you needed,” he started without prompting. “And Alexis had trapped the mirror with an enchantment. I can't even get it off. And I snapped. Sorry. I know I shouldn't have.” 

Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded lame. But his mother remained quiet. Instead of beckoning him closer. Then, she took his chin and turned his head first to the right and then to the left. Dexter already dreaded the worst. Was his sister slipping by yet again? This felt like their mother was more interested in the quality of the spell Alexis had used than being fair.

Finally, she let go. Roslyn gave a last look and then turned to the sister. “Alexis, bring me your grimoire.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Roslyn gave Dexter a small encouraging smile that vanished just as quickly as Alexis returned. On her beckoning, the grimoire was placed on the table. Then, Roslyn stood up and her children stepped back. It was time for judgment and they both knew it.

“Alexis. Didn't I repeatedly tell you to not abuse magic when mundane means will suffice?” “But, Mom!” “No, don't start. You place an enchantment where it didn't belong and where someone else could trigger it. One week house arrest and your grimoire stays with me.”

Alexis’ eyes grew wide. “Not my grimoire. Can't you take my smartphone instead.”

“Go to your room.” Roslyn's voice was steel. “Dexter and I have something to discuss.”

Still shocked, Alexis turned around. But she knew her revenge was still coming. “You are in so much trouble!” she told Dexter, before a “Room!” by their mother really drove her up the stairs. A moment later, mother and don heard a door slam.

“I am sorry,” Dexter repeated once they were alone. “In how much trouble am I?”

Roslyn sighed and then beckoned her son to follow. “Let's take a walk.” Their house was by no means small, but Roslyn aimed for the glasshouse that dwarfed the main building. “I know it is not fair that you have to hide your magic. But you know as well as I do that if you were to be witnessed casting magic, witches might know that you aren't just my adopted son, but my flesh and blood.”

This was the crux of his life. The great malady. Ever since the Salem uprising and the delicate peace between witches and mundane humans, witches have tried to maximize their power. It started as an experiment and was soon taken up by all. Female witches are stronger and by necessity they cut out males from their bloodlines all together. Using magic to have two women procreate. By now, most witches were lesbians by nature. Except Dexter's mother. She married a man for love and gave him a son. A taboo that was the best kept secret of the Hawthorne coven. 

“The political landscape is delicate Dexter. Now more than ever. Our rivals and enemies are looking very hard for any weakness we might reveal.” For a moment, they walked in silence. Past large planters of herbs and spices. Everything a modern witch might need. “What I am about to tell you stays between us. Do not even tell your sister.”

That worried Dexter. This smelled like another coven secret he was about to hear and normally, he was kept away from any coven business as best as his mother could. But if she was confiding in him, then it must be important. 

“I will not say a word.”

“Good.” Another break. By now they had made their way halfway around the glasshouse. “I just came back from your great aunt Vera. It is bad. Officially, she is feeling under the weather. If our enemies dig deeper, they may find out she has been hospitalized after a heart attack. But the real truth-”

Roslyn had that look to her. Dexter recognized it as one when she was angry enough to drag an opponent in the congress over hot coals. Deep anger that was tightly but barely contained. Cautiously, Dexter took a step to the side to give his mother more space.

“That fool. Eighty-seven years old since spring. But what does she do? Fucks around like a twenty-something. Uses magic to look like it too. A textbook example of a sexual deviant. And now? Summons an Incubus. You know what they are? Gosh darn sex demon. How could she? And now, she has barely any life force left. Fool.”

That sounded bad indeed. “Is she going to die?” was first on Dexter's mind. Not that he was overly attached to her. His great aunt was eccentric indeed and often tried to play jokes. His mother was right. Thanks to magic she looked a few years older than Dexter. A fact that she had used to try to trick Dexter into making out with her at their last family gathering. The joke still made him cringe. At least he hoped it had been a joke. If he hadn't been warned beforehand-

“What? No. She'll be fine in a month or two. There is enough life force left that she will recover. But in the meantime, the coven is in trouble.” Another pause. This time in front of a bench. Roslyn sat down and indicated for Dexter to do the same. “How much do you know about our current political situation?”

Dexter didn't have to think for long. It was evident what his mother was implying. “Since great-grandma Irma died, the Hawthorne coven only holds twenty witch huts in the country. If we lose one more, we probably lose our congress seat too. With great aunt Vera indisposed anyone could challenge us for her witch hut.”

“Exactly. For two hundred years the Hawthorne coven had been represented in the congress. And now, our enemies are yapping at our heels. Especially those despicable witches of the Ashland coven. Miserable sadists.”

Dexter was confused about why his mother was confiding him into this dilemma, but he was determined to not disappoint his mother. “There are only two witches in the Hawthorne coven you can send. My sister would be the obvious option. But I don't think you are seriously considering her. For one, every other coven has her eyes on her as she is the next Hawthorne to reach maturity. It would give away that we are backed in a corner. No, not her.”

Not to mention that Alexis lacked the emotional maturity as this evening had proven. Granted, Dexter hadn't shown his best side too. 

“That leaves Cousin Adriana. She is of age. Already accomplished. But if I remember correctly, she is currently studying old magic in the northwestern part of China.” A slight nod by his mother clued Dexter in that he was on the right path. Time to bring it to a conclusion. “I guess you couldn't get a hold of her. So, you want me to travel to China and find her? Get her back?”

“There is no time.” Another deep sigh from his mother. “Last we heard she had traveled for three weeks. Just to get close to the monastery of the red sash monks. By now, she must have reached them. We tried to reach her, but mirror and satellite phone have both failed. Probably because the monks obscure their location to ensure their seclusion. No, we can't count on Adriana to return in time.”

“Then I don't know how I can help,” Dexter admitted. Not that he liked to do so. Finally, his mother was confiding him in and he was eager to prove his worth. It smarted more than he would have guessed. 

“I was at wits end too.” Roslyn then pulled out a compact mirror and unfolded it. Handing it to Dexter instead of looking into it herself. “Tell me who you see if you look into it.”

For a moment, Dexter was confused. Adriana starred back. Hadn't his mother said scrying spells had failed? Then how could he see Adriana? Besides, why did she look so confused? Mirroring his own. And then it finally clicked. 

“Alexis’ make-up. It made me look like Adriana.” And the conclusion wasn't hard for Dexter to guess either. “You want me to pretend I am her. To take Adriana's place. But I am not even a trained witch.”

“Not officially trained,” his mother corrected. “But I know you. Do you really think I haven't noticed you sneaking into the library and studying spellbooks? For years. I think you might be a better study than Alexis. You certainly take it more seriously.”

“But-” Dexter's mind whirled. There were so many things wrong with the suggestion. He grabbed the first objection his mind could hold. “I don't even have a grimoire.”

“That can be easily remedied.”

“I am not a woman!” That should probably have been his first argument. But now it was out. It helped to voice a few more. “It might be weeks before great aunt Vera recovers or Adriana returns. I can't wear this make-up for so long. And I don't even know how to apply make-up. Or use spells that do it for me like Alexis did.”

Roslyn gave a sly little smile. “Why do you think I made Alexis hand over her grimoire? You can copy any spells that you need from it.”

Dexter was about to protest again but shut his mouth wordlessly. Once again reminded that his mother could be a shrewd and wicked witch. She had a plan. One she thought Decter could accomplish. And she had formulated it the moment she had seen him with make-up on. Part of him wanted to be angry, but he knew his mother was the way she was because of her role in the coven. And to his surprise, he was actually contemplating going through with it. This was an opportunity to prove himself. Not that anyone aside from a small circle in his family coven would know. 

“This would be easier if I had been born a girl.” Dexter looked up to his mother. For once not shying away from her gaze. “Why weren't I?”

Roslyn shrugged nonchalantly. Maybe a little forced, but good acting masked it to those who didn't know her well. But Dexter noticed. 

“Well, you know the story. I love your father. And we let nature run its course. There was a fifty-fifty chance that-”

“Bullshit!” Dexter didn't know who was more surprised by his outburst. His mother or himself. Granted, it had been brewing for years. Begging to be let out. “We both know that isn't true. There are spells - rituals - that let someone change their gender. You could have made me a girl when I had been in your womb. Before I was even born. I would have never known.”

His mother sagged. A deep sadness flashing over her face. “I could have. And to my great shame, I contemplated it. But my son, it does not work. Witches have tried in the past. The soul knows which gender it belongs to. What modern society calls trans-gender. Witch society created them in doves. Right there in our midst. They wanted more female witches, but most wronged in this way rather gave up their magic and be their true self than live a life not their own. It was a failure. So, instead, they turned to pure woman on woman couplings. There, only one in a hundred witches turn out to be trans-gender.”

It made sense. All too well. But the anger within Dexter ran deep and even as it dissipated, it lashed out one last time. “Maybe I would have liked to be a girl. You never offered to make me one.”

Roslyn reached for her son's hand and gave it a squeeze. “True. Then again, you knew about this magic, didn't you? And you never came to ask. I know that being my son isn't an easy fate. But I thought giving you a new body - a new gender - without your consent would have led to greater misery. So, I hope you can forgive me.” A short sad laugh escaped her that she cut off with a shake of her head. “What a hypocrite I am. Saying being a woman might have led to great misery, but here I am. Asking you to be one. Even if it is just pretending. A great sacrifice that I have no right to ask you off, but yet feel forced to extend nonetheless.”

To say that Dexter's mind was in tumult was an understatement. Thoughts whirled through his mind. Weighing pros against cons. “Will I get to keep the grimoire when it is done?” The question alone revealed that Dexter was at least open to the possibility of undertaking this mission.

“Of course.” Sensing that her son needed a bit more, Roslyn relented by giving a few more words as a promise. “Maybe it had been wrong all along to deny you one. We have to hide you, true, but you are a Hawthorne and a witch. You deserve one.”

Of course, it didn't mean that Dexter was to be revealed to the world as a witch. The political landscape hadn't changed. If anything, now it was more crucial than ever to appear strong. He knew that. But a grimoire was more than just a spellbook. Of those, there were plenty in the library. A grimoire was more than a spellbook as it linked to a witch. Whatever spell was recorded there - usually the favorites of the witch - would be casted stronger.

Slowly Dexter was won over. His mother didn't even have to talk to him. The benefits alone did the work for her. Just to be able to cast magic openly - even if disguised - had some allure. Weighed against the cons, they won. It was only a few weeks. And he didn't have to dress up all the time. Maybe here and there to be seen by the public. Enough to show presence. And in the privacy of his great aunt's home, he could be himself. 

And which teenager couldn't resist a few days without supervision. Granted, he had become an adult. But only last month. A few juvenile instincts survived. It would be a growing experience, he told himself. An opportunity to show himself as reliable to the family. Not the whole coven, but the few who would know were those that mattered.

“Alexis can't ever know about this!” A statement made that revealed that Dexter had already accepted the task ahead. “I wouldn't be able to live that down. She is already unbearable now. I don't want to imagine her holding this over my head.”

“I promise, I won't tell her.” Roslyn snapped her finger as an idea struck. “I need to punish you, right? Officially you will be spending a few weeks at your uncle Ben's farm. He is someone to keep a secret and will know how to keep up an alibi.”

“Okay.” Dexter's heart was racing. Just because he had accepted didn't mean that he wasn't nervous. The adrenaline hadn't even time to leave his body. “What now?”

“Now, let us remedy a mistake of mine that is long overdue. Come.”

The anticipation did nothing to calm Dexter down. Quietly, but eagerly, he followed his mother. To his parents’ bedroom and then to the adjacent office Roslyn used. What Dexter hadn't known was that behind a painting of Wichita Hawthorne - founding ancestors of the Hawthorne coven - hid a large cast-iron safe. Roslyn opened it without even entering a combination. The safe had probably more magical than physical safety measures.

Roslyn pulled out a leather bound tome. Bound in red, the pages had the slightest tinge of pink. As Dexter took it from her, he noticed that the book was older but not used. Cared for, but it had been locked away. For how long, he couldn't tell. Opening it, he saw the typical glyphs and sigils that elevated a normal book to a grimoire. However, it was unbound. Nearly all pages were empty, except for the first. 

“Property of Chandra Hawthorne,” he read aloud and then looked at his mother quizzically. “Who is Chandra and why haven't I heard of her before?”

“Chandra is-” Again the shadow of embarrassment rushed over his mother's face. “That was supposed to be your name. If I had gone through with it. The ritual. In the end, I recognized how foolish my course of action would be, but I couldn't bring myself to let go of the grimoire. It is yours now. As should have been a long time ago.”

Somehow, holding the grimoire - his grimoire - in his hands made it all more real. Was he really going to pretend to be a witch of a hut? To disguise himself as a woman. It was a tall order. A daunting one. But Dexter had made up his mind. 

“I won't disappoint you, mother.”

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Chapter 2

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Dexter stepped off his broom and nearly tripped as the hem of his skirt's rope got caught. Confused, Dexter looked repeatedly down to his map and the house before him. Except, “house” wasn't quite right. It looked like a mansion. One that had wings. 

“What kind of witch hut is this?” 

Granted, modern witch huts weren't really huts. Except for a small eccentric minority. The property and seat of a witch was called a witch hut by tradition. The house he had grown up in was a witch hut. But not as grand as this monstrosity. Why did his great aunt Vera need all this?
 
Shaking his head, Dexter grabbed the handles of his broom and pushed it up the drive. Broom was another traditional name that hardly resembled reality. In the Salem trials, witches had been accused of riding on brooms. They hadn't. But after the Salem Revolution, some witches asked: why not? It shouldn't be hard to enchant a broom to carry a witch through the sky. The answer was easy. Brooms were narrow and uncomfortable to ride on. The first actual brooms to be ridden by witches resembled more a wooden board with a saddle than the namesake that inspired it. Further improvements were made over the centuries. Rumor was that the hover bikes in the movie Star Wars Episode 6 were actually inspired by Witch Brooms. Dexter thought it likely. The resemblance was uncanny. 

Getting close to the front door, Dexter noticed he wasn't alone. Someone waited at the front steps. Hastily, he pulled off his flying goggles, checked that the make-up had survived the flight, and brushed the strands from his hair into order. It had been a pain in the butt to grow it out using only potions in two days. Then, he placed a large pointy and floppy hat on his head. His disguise was complete. Hopefully. The last step was to spritz a spray of tincture down his throat. It would adjust his voice to something feminine. For a time. Hence the small spray bottle was pocketed in his robe.

Leaning on the railing, the woman hastily pushed off it as she noticed Dexter getting closer. A big smile on her face, she left two large trunks behind and rushed the steps down to greet him. She was a looker, was his first impression. Large breasts under a tight sweater, a short skirt, thigh-high socks, and shoes with a not insubstantial heel to them. She knew how to dress to flaunt her body. Still, something struck Dexter as wrong. But he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was the face? A little too much make-up, Dexter would guess, but who was he to judge? Thanks to a spell copied from Alexis's grimoire, he himself was slathered with the stuff. To say it was a new experience was an understatement. Sometimes, he forgot a moment. But it also could push forward in his mind and he couldn't quite ignore the sensation. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to keep this charade on for long. 

“Welcome, honored witch Vera.” The woman did a deep and elegant curtsy. One that Dexter hadn't thought possible with heels so high. “My name is Derrick Gilbert. But I go by Rose. I am here for the maid position.”

“Maid?” Did he need a maid? Who arranged this? Vera? Oh, she welcomed him as Vera. “No, sorry, I am not Vera. She has been indisposed. My name is Adriana Hawthorne. I am filling in for her until Vera is able to resume her duties.” Dexter nearly sighed in relief. Having feared that in a situation like this, he would say his own name. But he had remembered to give Adriana's name. Speaking of name- “Wait! Did you say your name was Derrick?”

“Yes, my name is Derrick Gilbert. But feel free to call me Rose, honored witch Adriana.” The woman - no, man? - pulled out a neatly folded paper and returned it carefully to its original size. “Maid wanted. Must be a female presenting man - check - and of good manners. I visited a very prestigious evening school for that. What else? Must be able to cook and do housekeeping. I am proficient in both, I assure you. Must be of good hygiene and dedicated to upkeep the feminine illusion of all times. Will be expected to be plugged and caged for the entire duration of employment. I already took the liberty.” In a quick twirl, Rose turned around and bent over. To lift her skirt up briefly to show that something was between her butt cheeks. Turning back around, Rose lifted her skirt once more to show something metallic gleaming between her - his! - legs. “The key is in a timed safe. To be taken into possession by you in three days. What else? Expected to do nurse duty - I can do that - and the duration is twenty-four seven availability for two months. Extension possible upon review. Punishment and rewards in the form of magical changes and spankings.”

Finally, the rapid pace of Rose died off. But not before he - she? they? - gave a last playful wink. Leaving behind a stunned Dexter. This was good. A cross-dresser that was way more believable than Dexter felt himself in his disguise. It was perfect. No, it was horrible. The worst of luck. Dexter couldn't reveal to anyone that he was a man. That's what he promised his mother. The less anyone knew, the better. Worse, if anyone could look past make-up and false inserts, it was a cross-dresser who did it for a living. Apparently, that was a thing. Dexter hadn't known that it was. Just what was his great aunt into? Did he want to know?

Dexter needed an out. He couldn't let anyone in that might expose his secret. “I am sorry. I just arrived and at the moment it might not be the best time to add a new maid to-”

“WITCH!!!”

Dexter needed a moment to realize that the shout had come from behind him. What was it now? Dexter indicated for Rose to wait a moment and turned around. Standing in the driveway stood a man in a ridiculous getup. Leather boots up to his knees. Some puffy fabric pants in purple. White linen blouse - with more than a few buttons undone - under a leather vest. On his head a tricorne hat with a plume of feathers sticking out. Dexter needed a moment just to notice the rapier the man held. The whole getup had been too distracting. 

“Can I help you?” Dexter asked. Hoping that this wasn't what he expected. 

“Witch!” The man shouted again. “I am here to end your evil reign. I am the renowned witch hunter” - Dexter rolled his eyes - “Darrel McLean. I challenge you to a duel! For fame will be with me if I win. Or harsh punishment if I fail. Humiliation. Bondage. Your deviant little games. I will brave those prospects, because that is what witch hunters do. Now, prepare.”

A witch hunter? In this day and age? Dexter was stunned. This couldn't be real. Why were those nutcases still around? Had they learned nothing from the Salem Revolution? Witches aren't to be trifled with and Dexter could wipe the floor with that lunatic. 

Except-

He had been so preoccupied with copying spells into his grimoire that would help him blend in and disguise himself, that he had forgotten to add any combat or defensive spell. This could be bad. What to do? All he could do was bluff. 

“Your duel is denied,” he tried in his best condescending voice. “I ain't got time to entertain a gnat like you. Begone.”

“But I have an appointment!” Of all the things the witch hunter could have said, this wasn't what Dexter had expected. And it only got worse. “Granted, our duel was scheduled for yesterday. But I cleared my calendar for it. I mean, I will win. Obviously. But if not, I know that you will torture me for three days as punishment. To shove things up my ass and spank me until my bottom is red. To strap me down spread eagled and-”

“Stop!” Wherever this was going, Dexter wanted no part in it. “I just got here. So, I doubt there is any appointment.”

“But we scheduled it last month, devilish witch Vera. You said-”

Dexter groaned. Great aunt Vera was lying in a hospital bed somewhere unconscious and still managed to make things difficult for him. He hadn't even begun his official residency as a witch, and things were already way off course. 

“I am not Vera. She won't be available for the time being. My name is Adriana and I will fill in for the foreseeable future.”

“Of course. Of course.” The witch hunter suddenly lacked all the bravado from before. Instead, he appeared a little submissive. “But maybe we can still duel? Forgive me, witch Adriana, but I have yet to hear of your renown. I am not sure how good you are at dueling. Or with punishment. But-” Nervously the lad linked his lips. “If you temp for Vera, surely you are trained to provide harsh punishment?”

Dexter frowned. What was it with this guy and punishment? He practically begged for it. It was if-

Oh, no!

Goddess, no. 

It made all too much sense. “Is my great aunt moonlighting as a domina?” Wait. He is currently playing the role of Adriana. Was great aunt Vera also Adriana's great aunt? He needed a moment to visualize the family tree. Yes, it worked. He hadn't dropped a contradiction to his story by accident.

Darrel - maybe wannabe witch hunter - sheepishly shrugged. “She doesn't call herself that. Sure, she is known to be very dominant. And everyone in the witch hunter community knows how creative and thorough she is with her punishment. I mean, does a domina make you fill out a questionnaire about what you fear most as punishment? Hardly.”

Dexter gave a little scuff at the attempt to shift perception. Great aunt Vera was a domina. Who would have thought? Actually, it wasn't hard to imagine at all. Vera had always been a bit eccentric and open to alternative approaches to sexual conduct. 

“Let me guess,” Dexter mused out loud. “She makes you pay for the punishment you get exposed to.”

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Darrel assured her. But couldn't help but add: “However, we do pay a small fee for scheduling a duel. You know, so she can be available and not have two witch hunters show up at the same time either.”

“Unbelievable. Well, I am not my great aunt. We can duel- “Dexter really hoped it wouldn't come to it. “But once I have beaten your ass, I won't soil my hands on you. I'll be calling the cops and they can haul your ass to jail for illegal prosecution of a witch as outlined in the armistice of Salem.”

“No need for that.” Darrel held up his hands to placate her. Slowly inching backwards. “This is a misunderstanding, right? Vera will be back in a month? Right? How about I just reschedule then? Good?”

And with those words, Darrel turned around and sprinted off. For about ten feet. Then he noticed that his tricorn hat had fallen off. He dared a quick return, snatched it up, and then did his best to vanish into thin air.

“Well, that was something,” Dexter murmured to himself. Then remembered that he had been interrupted in another bothering matter. “As for you Rose-”

He turned around and only found air. The maid was gone. As were her pieces of luggage. Good. She must have gotten a clue about how he had dealt with the hunter and took a silent exit. That was fine by Dexter. Time to get his own luggage and get inside. Before the next crazy person showed up. 

Except his luggage was missing. His broom was now empty of the three pieces he had strapped to it. This didn't bode well. Cautiously, Dexter stalked up the stairs and to the front entrance. The doors weren't locked - why wouldn't they be open for everyone to walk in? - and Dexter found himself in a large lobby.

“This really is a large manor!”

Dexter literally jumped a meter to the side as Rose had snuck up behind him. Not only that, she had changed outfits. Appearing now in a maid outfit that had entirely too much lace to be practical. It was sexy even. Which made Dexter conflicted. Rose was female presenting. Which was different from transgender? Dexter wasn't sure. But it felt wrong to ogle her. Despite the hormones in him urging him to. 

“Look. Rose. I know you expected to find work here but-” Just how exactly was he to get rid of her? Dexter drew blanks. 

“And good thing I arrived!” Rose beamed at him. “Such a large estate. I bet you could employ a dozen maids here and they wouldn't get bored.”

“But-” Dexter frowned. Damn, this maid had good arguments. “Payment?”

“I am sure Mistress Vera will be happy to provide my ‘backpay’. Is she your great aunt? I think I heard you shout something like that outside.”

“Yes. Well, I mean-”

Think Dexter, think. He needed an argument that was sound and made sense.

“WITCH!”

Dexter threw his hands up in annoyance. Who was it now? It couldn't be the same witch hunter. This shout sounded like a woman. He better deal with that before whoever was out there did something stupid.

“This isn't over,” he told Rose and then turned around.

“Mistress, wait! Wait!” 

Confused, Dexter turned back. Only for Rose to grab his breasts. His totally fake breasts. She deftly pushed on up that had sagged down a little. Then gave both a good squeeze. 

“Thought so, Miss. Too much stuffing. Not very good at holding the form. There are inserts for a better form and they might be more comfortable too.”

Dexter grew pale. Has he already been found out? He couldn't even hold the disguise for one day. What would his mother say? Surely, she would be disappointed. 

“It's okay, Miss.” Rose patted him on the shoulder. Probably seeing his dismay on his face. “Plenty of young ladies are late bloomers. I am sure they still have some growing to do. And if not? Well, there is magic.”

“Right-” Dexter said slowly. Had he really dodged a bullet here? Maybe. For now, he would take it. “It isn't good to use such magic when too young. You know? Complications.”

“Totally, Miss,” Rose agreed. But whatever she was about to say was drowned out by another shout from outside. 

Dexter got angry again. Because that was an easier emotion than to feel angsty and panicked at being found out. Whoever was out, he would give them a piece of their mind. Verbally, of course. After Darrel McLean - self-proclaimed witch hunter - Dexter realized that threads of violence might backfire horribly. 

Just stepping outside and taking one look at the woman in the driveway clued Dexter in that another nutcase had shown up. Her outfit was just as ridiculous as the one worn by Darrel. Just when Dexter was about to speak up, the woman was already cutting in.

“Revenge! I am here for our rematch. This time, I won't end up bound to the ceiling of your root cellar for a month. Left to your whimsy of esoteric experiments. Unable to move more than a single finger or toe. Witch Vera, I - Lori Boone - will-” The woman stopped, frowned, and walked a few quick steps closer. “Who are you? You aren’t Vera.”

“Vera is indisposed. I'll be filling in for her.” And just before the - probably - witch hunter could speak up, Dexter made sure there was no room for misinterpretation. “No, I won't take any duels. Or administer any punishment. Please leave.”

“But-” The woman looked honestly shocked. “I need the duel to keep my license. Without it, I may get kicked out of the guild. And then what? That can't be. When will she be back? I need that duel.”

“A few weeks,” Dexter guessed. Hoped it was even less. If his first day started like this, he didn't want to know how the rest would turn out. No, the sooner Vera returned to her duties - as witch and whatever else was going on - the sooner Dexter could return to his life. He was already fed up with it. 

“That may be too late,” Lori exclaimed. Nearly hysterically so. She honestly looked close to tears. Shouldn't be witch hunters of more sturdy character? But she showed a little spine a moment later. “Maybe just a small duel? I don't have to spend a month in the root cellar. Maybe a week? No? A day or two?”

“Go!” Dexter pointed to the exit of the property. Giving his best stern look. 

It worked. Lori let her head hang and slinked off. But not before giving him the best puppy eyes she could manage. Dexter wasn't budging.

Two done. One to go. It was time to get rid of Rose. And then, he could finally relax. Maybe even take that devilish corset off that shaped his waist into a more feminine shape. Riding the broom with it had been a small torture. 

“Rose?” he shouted as the maid was nowhere to be seen. Just to be sure, he had looked into every nook and cranny of the lobby. Lest he be ambushed by the maid again. “Where are you?”

“Fourth floor, mistress Adriana,” came from somewhere above him. 

With dread, Dexter looked at the grand staircase. Who in modern days had one of those? How old was this witch hut? Well, manor. Grumbling, Dexter tackled the many steps ahead. Cursing the corset underneath his dress and the shoes with small heels his mother had insisted on.

“It will help you learn to walk like a woman,” Roslyn had said yesterday. “Small dainty steps. Not long ones.”

As he arrived, Dexter was panting for air. The corset beneath definitely didn't help. Cutting him off from taking deep breaths. If he had any spare breath, it might have been used to curse his mother and her scheming. Or grand aunt Vera for having such a super-sized manor. 

“I have taken the liberty to place your luggage in the master bedroom.”

There she was. Surprising him yet again. She didn't even look winded. Did she say she had carried his luggage up the stairs?

“How are you so fast?” Dexter pressed out between ragged gasps. 

Rose frowned. “I used the elevator?” Pointing to the side. Sure enough, there appeared to be doors to an elevator. Made up to blend in with the rest of the manor's interior design. Still, if Dexter had looked for an elevator, it wouldn't be hard to find this one.

“Of course, there is!” Now, before yet another disruption happened, Dexter needed to get things straight. “Rose. We need to talk. I appreciate what you have done so far, but-”

“WITCH!”

Dexter left his head hanging. Pinching the bridge of his nose trying to combat the oncoming headache. “Again? How many are there?”

“Seven,” Rose supplied immediately. “According to the day-planer of honored witch Vera, she had scheduled six duels for the last five days. The duelists probably hope to catch up on their appointments today. Speaking of. There is another duel scheduled for later this evening.”

Suddenly, Dexter had the real urge and daydream to wring great aunt Vera's neck. Good thing she wasn't here. Else Dexter might say or do things he would regret.

“I can take care of those for you and inform them of the changed circumstances,” Rose offered quite politely. not giving away if she pitied Dexter or was amused by it. “And perhaps the honored witch Adriana is hungry after her travels? I haven't looked into the pantry, but I am sure I can whip something up.”

“WITCH!”

Sometimes, one had to choose the battles one fights. “Sure. Sounds lovely.” As Rose bowed and headed to the elevator, Dexter let out a sigh. Time to find the main bedroom and maybe take a nap.

While wearing a corset. That was the price he had to pay. Rose was staying. Else he might lose his mind. But it also meant to keep the secret longer and being weary at all times of discovery. Then again, it was a big manor. Surely the maid wouldn't hover around him all the time. Or so he hoped. 

---

Chapter 3

---

“Good morning, Mistress.”

Bleary eyed, Dexter blinked at the sudden sunshine that bore like a dagger into his eyes. Rose – cursed she be - had dragged open the heavy curtains of the master bedroom. 

“What time is it?” Already knowing it was too early for his liking. 

“It is six thirty in the morning.“ Rose sounded much too cheerful for Dexter. Yes, she needed to be cursed, Dexter decided. A lot. But maybe not the magical kind. “It appears the mistress has not set an alarm, so I took the liberty to wake her.”

“And why-” Dexter stopped. Shit! Right now, the only thing stopping Rose from figuring out Dexter's secret was the duvet. No stuffed bra or corset to alter the figure. Make-up? He could still feel it on his face. He must have forgotten to take it off. Too exhausted in the evening to think of it. And the magic preserved it over the night. So he hoped. His voice! Glancing around, he spotted an opportunity. Rose had turned her back to him and the bottle with the voice alteration spray was on the bedside table. Quickly, he snatched it and gave it a few squirts down his throat. 

Dexter cleared his throat loudly. Maybe a bit overdone. Then continued in his altered feminine voice. “And why do I have to get up so early?”

“There is an appointment for nine o'clock.” Rose was quick to twirl around. “Do not worry, mistress. It is not another duel. Another honored witch - a Selina Ashland - has requested a meeting. As such, I thought it best to wake you with ample time to get breakfast and prepare.”

Oh shit! An Ashland? Here? The Hawthorne coven wasn't lacking in rivals. But the Ashlands were among the more powerful. Worse, the ambitious coven was close to achieving what Hawthorne stood to lose: the twenties witch hut and a seat in congress. Even Dexter knew this was bad news. The Ashlands were known for their sadistic nature and skirting the rules of acceptable magic to use. Having one sniff around here was bad news. 

“I think we should cancel that meeting-” 

“I was to deny her request,” Rose explained while returning to the walk-in closet that expanded off the bedroom. Speaking up so Dexter could hear her. “But she invoked consultation rights. As the residing witch, it is your duty to hear complaints and concerns of witches living in your area of domain.”

Rose returned with a witch's robe. Though it looked tight enough to be a body-con dress. “I just say, mistress, you do travel light. But it appears the honored witch Vera has a similar size to you. This should help out.”

“I see. Rose, I would like to change privately. I'll be seeing you downstairs.”

The maid gave an elegant curtsy. “Of course, mistress.” Then promptly hurried out. Closing the doors behind her. 

Dexter caught his breath. Expecting the maid to show back up any second. A minute passed. Then two. She wasn't coming. Unless he took too long. Dexter rushed out of the bed and to the door. Hasten to lock it. Only then, he relaxed. This had been another close call. 

On a chest of dressers, Dexter found his next few surprises. In neat piles, Rose had arranged the clothing for Dexter to wear. It started to the left with underwear. He expected panties - with Rose assuming he was a woman - but found a pair of his boxers instead. Not good. More comfortable as panties, he reasoned, but yet another thing he had to explain. Or had Rose already figured out his secret? Dexter wasn't sure. Still, the boxers were worn. Better than the alternative. 

He reached for the brassiere and noticed it wasn't one of the ones prepared by his mother. “All we can do for now is stuffing,” she had told him. “That won't be enough. Magic could help. To give you temporary the assets you need. I don't have a spell that fits, but if anyone has one, it should be your great aunt. Scour her library as soon as you find time.” It must be one of Vera's. A sticky note was taped to it. 

[To avoid near accidents like yesterday, I found this push-up bra in your great aunt's closet. But in case they aren't, I left two of my inserts for you.
Rose]

The inserts in question were flesh colored mounds of silicone. Not nearly as big as what Rose might wear. Her being actually a man too. But it just looked about right for Dexter to wear with the push-up bra to reach the same chest size as yesterday. Maybe Rose hadn't found out. The note alluded to it. Then again, maybe the maid was keeping quiet on purpose or for her own reasons. Dexter vowed to consult his mother as soon as he could. They had scheduled a mirror call late this evening. 

Slipping on the bra and then placing the inserts, Dexter had to admit they would keep the shape better and would further improve his disguise. They were also heavier than the fluffy padding his mother had used. Already, he could feel the bra straps dig a little deeper into his skin.

Next was a long underdress. As before, it probably would be a hassle to go to the bathroom with all this stuff, but he had to keep up appearances. Especially now with a live-in maid. Over the underdress came the corset. Yet another secret garment Rose had now witnessed. The corset was a little longer than a normal waist cincher. Starting above his lowest two ribs and flowing down over his stomach to just past his hips. Sitting - as he found out yesterday - was a slight hassle in this contraption. To his surprise, Rose had made alterations to the garment. Sowing small pads to the lower hem above his hips. This made the corset contour better and hid a little more that Dexter didn't have as womanly hips as a real woman. It also made the corset marginally more comfortable to wear. 

The dress. Dexter could wring Rose's neck for the dress. Many witches used high collared dresses nowadays instead of traditional witch robes. This velvet dress was one that fell into the definition of body-con. As in a dress that hugged the body as tightly as possible. There was no way Dexter could wear it. Surely all the unnatural enhancements he wore would be visible. 

He didn't see his luggage. Probably unpacked and sorted away into the walk-in closet. Taking a deep breath, made his way into it. Opening the first dresser's door, Dexter immediately noticed that it was worse than he feared. A wave of different odors hit him. Was that the smell of rubber? The garments looked like it. All glossy and slick on their hangers. Dexter closed it before his mind could recognize more details.

The next two held more rubber. Dexter didn't even open them wide. A simple sniff told him these were not the dresses he was looking for. The next one contained some kind of tiered display case. Shoes? Dexter opened it further and regretted it immediately. Sex toys. So many of them. This was getting worse and worse. As the next dresser contained leather - judging by the smell if not by a peek - all bravery to explore this closet further left Dexter. The body-con dress would have to do. 

Shimming into it was hard, but he managed without tearing it. Then, to his surprise, it didn't look too bad. Judging by his mirror image, the corset could be seen slightly. As was the bra. But it appeared to be part of the dress. As if it was structured to appear as such. Maybe Rose knew what she was doing after all. Rounded off was the ensemble with pumps of a medium heel and a midnight blue sash around the waist. Dexter dreaded the heels, but reasoned that with small steps, he could manage. Only moments later finding out that small steps were all the dress allowed for. 

Of course, Dexter wasn't quite ready yet. First, he cast the spell to remove all make-up. A fortuitous mistake that he hadn't made last night before bed. Then, with a second spell, the make-up was renewed. At last, he picked up his large witch hat. Wide brim and pointy top included. Normal witches could do without. But the traditional garment was a must for those witches holding official positions. Like holding a witch hut. Even as a substitute, Dexter was supposed to uphold this tradition. 

Finally, out of the bedroom, it took longer than he expected as Dexter made his way downstairs to the dining room. Not the official one. That one could seat forty people easily. But a smaller one that was close to the auxiliary kitchen. Because, of course, there were two. Who needs that much house, Dexter wondered. Especially since great aunt Vera appeared to only entertain one maid. 

Breakfast was delicious and more than Dexter could stomach. Literally, as the corset restricted how much he could eat. This would get old really fast. Magic to the rescue. Except he couldn't peruse great aunt Vera's library for too long as an Ashland was scheduled to show up. At least Dexter would eat well. If the last few meals by Rose were any indication, she really could cook. 

Finishing his meal, Dexter addressed the next unpleasantness. “I will take the time to study until this witch arrives. When she comes, please lead her to the reading room adjacent to the library. The informal setting might be enough.”

“And put them at ease and might underestimate you,” his mother whispered in his ear from memory. Dexter couldn't place when he had originally heard it, but Roslyn Hawthorne was a well of knowledge in regard to politics. Be it inside the coven, the witch community, or the congress. And as her son, he had plenty of opportunities to overhear valuable lessons. 

Rose slightly cooked her head. “Why one?”

Dexter paused. “There is more than one reading room?” 

“There is more than one library,” Rose corrected. “According to my survey on the matter, there is one library for spells and witch business. The other is for-” Dexter already could tell that it was a rare occasion to see Rose blush. She did so now. “Your great aunt has many interesting hobbies. She stores related material in a second library.”

“The former,” Dexter decided and it wasn't a hard choice. Having an Ashland near the spellbooks was a risk. But exposing his great aunt's depravity might be worse.

Then, to his embarrassment, he needed Rose's further help to actually find the library. He bid Rose to leave him in peace and only notify him ten minutes before the appointment with the Ashland witch. With distractions out of the way, it was time for research. 

The library - as everything with this manor - was large. Easily three times the size of the library at his home. It shouldn't matter as long as great aunt Vera had a good filing system. But just a minute into his search, Dexter was disappointed. This was not the normal filing system that public libraries used. It wasn't alphabetical- by author or by title - and it wasn't by topics either. Dexter's best guess was that great aunt Vera had simply shoved the books in there by order of purchase or acquisition. 

Which made the point mood which spells Dexter should look out for first. A spell for breasts - much as that thought of having real breasts made him uneasy - would go a long way to be more convincing. Something to change his body's shape to make the corset unnecessary would be a boon too. His mother had advised him that a spell to boost thighs and hips might go a long way too. Feared most by him was that there could be situations where he had to hide his own private parts. Maybe even exchange it for lady bits.

Thankfully all spells were temporary. Permanent changes required rituals. Or powerful otherworldly individuals like fae. Dexter had no intention to make any kind of deal with those pointy eared bastards. They definitely weren't as friendly as Tolkien and modern fantasy writers had you believed.

By the time Rose made herself known, Dexter had made no progress at all aside from ruling out two of the large bookshelves. It was time to deal with the witch. On a whim, Dexter grabbed a book about local herbs with alchemical properties and made for the reading room. Carefully arranging the book and himself to appear casually reading. 

“Honored witch,” Rose disturbed nearly ten minutes later. Leading another witch in. “I present to you the witch Selina of the Ashland coven.”

The witch that walked in was an Ashland alright. The family certainly had beautiful women in their line. Selina was no exception. But Dexter knew that the beauty was only skin deep. The rumors surrounding the Ashland coven were nasty. As all of her coven, Selina wore gray. A dark gray as a base and nearly white grey as accents. The embroidery made to look like flakes of literal ash had settled on the garments. For Selina's skirt, the light gray created the illusion of a forest burned down to stumps and skeletal remains. She wore a blouse and vest combination that looked quite stylish to Dexter. Rounded off not with a traditional witch hat, but a charcoal gray fedora. The slicked back hair ending in a bun tempered her beauty to something strict and unyielding. 

For a moment, Selina appeared to be smiling as she entered but quickly schooled her face as she saw Dexter. As if his mere presence reminded her who she was and which coven she belonged to. “Resident witch,” she greeted with a curtsy more implied than actually enacted. “With whom do I have the honor?”

Dexter reminded himself that this was a battlefield. Not fought by magic and the arcane, but pleasantries and gestures. He was too much his mother's son to not know how the game was played. Smiling, he indicated a chair opposite him. “Please have a seat. My name is Adriana Hawthorne. My great aunt Vera is indisposed with coven business for a few days and I am filling in for the time being.”

“Is that so?” Selina's face grew frostier. Dexter half expected hoarfrost to creep over her features. “I heard of you. Weren't you supposed to be in China on a pilgrimage?”

This wasn't good. Adriana's trip had been a coven secret. That Selina knew didn't bode well. Had they a spy in their midst? Not a witch for sure, but maybe a servant? In any case, Dexter didn't betray an inch. 

“The needs of the coven come first. I am sure you understand. My trip had to be aborted and postponed.” That should suffice, Dexter thought. It was time to go on the offense. “And what brings you here, witch Ashland?”

Selina hesitated. That in itself was intriguing. Had she not prepared a readily available lie? Seconds passed. Then Selina gave a forced small smile. “I had dealt with this witch hut before. Surely you understand that I can't divulge any details. Not yet. As a new witch appeared to take up residence here, I thought it was prudent to introduce myself.”

“I see.” Dexter let the two words hang in the room. Vera having dealings with an Ashland? That was bad. Or was this a faint? A little lie to get Dexter off balance. Then again, with new knowledge about great aunt Vera, these dealings might not be of magical nature. Or coven business. Another topic to discuss with his mother. “Right now, it is to my displeasure to postpone any private dealings my great aunt had. I am sure she will be back within weeks. Is there anything else I can help you with right now?”

“That will be all for now.” Standing up, Selina gave a barely perceivable nod. “I am sure we will see each other again.” Then she walked out.

Dexter remained seated. Not the politest move, but a calculated one. He appeared calm. but on the inside, there was tumult. Dexter didn't think he had given away his secret. But Ashlands weren't to be underestimated. It was a short and courteous meeting. But Dexter felt like they had just traded the first few punches in a boxing match. Still sizing each other up and looking for weaknesses. No, Dexter was sure this wasn't over. Selina was right. They would see each other again. For that, Dexter had to prepare. It took him twenty minutes of contemplation until he returned to braving Vera's library again. Hunting for anything that might help.

---

Selina was seething with anger and confusion. None of it she let show as the maid escorted her out of the Hawthorne's estate. Only out for sight, she let her emotions show. If only briefly. 

This was a mess. Vera was gone under dubious circumstances. And now this witch greeted her under the disguise of Adriana. Selina wasn't fooled for a second. Of all the Hawthorne's she knew Adriana best. And this was not her. Not to mention that she knew Adriana had made it to the Chinese mountains. Close to her goal.

But who had she just met? Had another coven made a move? Selina doubted it. What was uncanny was that the pretender witch indeed looked a lot like Adriana. There was family resemblance for sure. But Adriana had painstakingly memorized each and every Hawthorne before approaching Vera and Adriana. This witch was new. 

Any other Ashland witch would run to their coven leader and divulge this information as juicy gossip. But Selina couldn't do it. That would run against her own ambitions. The alternative was to speak directly to the matriarch of the Hawthorne coven: Roslyn Hawthorne. But since Selina was an Ashland, this was not an option. No doubt, they would think of her scheming. 

What else could she do? Who else might this witch be that pretended to be Adriana. Two options came to mind. A demonic doppelganger or a fae changeling. Given Vera's proclivities, both were possible, if only remotely. Selina had to rule out both options. She had to test the witch with a feat of magic. Judging by it, Selina would know. And she already had an idea how to go about it. 

The situation was still grim, but she let her iron grip of herself slip for a moment and allowed herself a brief smile. 

---

Chapter 4

---

Nervously, Dexter paced in front of the mirror. So far, nearly everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. Still, he thought his secret was still safe. He hoped. Rose appeared to be a very attentive maid. And one very perceptive. So far Dexter could explain every odd detail away. He wondered how long it would last. 

Finally, the mirror rippled. His reflection faded away and made for that of his mother. He recognized her bedroom in the background. 

“Sorry that I am late. Your sister is trouble again.” Then, Roslyn caught sight of her son. “You are still in your make-up. Are you alone?”

“For now, yes,” Dexter confirmed. “But things have gone awry here. It is better to be a little paranoid.”

“But so far you have handled everything?” Roslyn waited for her son's nod before continuing. “Well, we couldn't expect everything to go smoothly. Tell me everything.”

“It appears great aunt Vera is up to more than we thought.” Dexter took a deep breath. Not sure how his mother would take the news. “It appears she might moonlight as a domina. Under the disguise of punishing witch hunters.”

“That is news. What is Vera thinking?” The first pang of anger melted away and gave way to a weary sigh. “There have been rumors that quite a few witches in our community do this. But I hadn't heard concrete details. Certainly not from Vera. Though I must admit, if anyone would indulge in these practices, it would be her. Can you handle it?”

“For now, yes. I had the maid postpone all ‘duels and punishments.” Paranoia made Dexter look if Rose was around. Despite having locked the door himself and bewitching it. “As part of these practices, great aunt Vera appears to have a revolving staff of maids. When I arrived, one was already waiting for me. I tried to get rid of her too, but it turns out she is surprisingly useful. Especially in turning away Vera's other engagements. The maid noticed some oddities about me, but explained them away before I could. Still, I am worried she might be onto me, but keeping quiet for now. To what end, I don't know.”

“Hmm. Has she worked for a witch before? If so, she might know what the deal is. To keep a secret. If you don't know, find out.” Roslyn hesitated for a moment. Others might have taken it for a short pause, but Dexter knew his mother. “If she should find out, there are ways. We senior witches don't like to flaunt it, but memories can be adjusted. Nudged into a way beneficial to us. But that only works if she keeps quiet until enough witches for a ritual can gather. So, if she finds out, keep her quiet. Give promises or whatever you need to. We sort out the rest afterwards.”

Those were some extreme measurements. Dexter had suspected that something along those lines of magic existed, but as his mother had said, it wasn't talked about openly. He hoped it wasn't necessary. Should Dexter point out that Rose was really a guy? About how, as a cross-dresser, Rose might have an easier time unveiling Dexter's secret. No, that wouldn't really change the situation. Especially since there was another urgent matter. 

“What worries me more is that an Ashland already showed up. She calls herself Selina and claims to have past dealings with great aunt Vera.”

“Alarming,” was Roslyn's first reaction. But despite the statement, she didn't appear to be alarmed. Rather calm instead. “The name doesn't ring a bell. Then again, there are entirely too many Ashlands walking on Earth. Bloody sadists, each and every one of them. Given what you have told me about Vera's other activities, I can't dismiss it out of hand. Despite hating the idea that any of us Hawthorne's would be cordial with an Ashland. Keep me updated. I'll see if I can dig something up on this Selina Ashland. Until then, don't let your guard down. Anything else I should know about?”

Dexter shrugged. “Not really. Just general anxiety. Tomorrow will be the first consultation day.”

“You'll do fine,” Roslyn assured him. “We practiced and-” A grimace. Roslyn looked away from the mirror. A few seconds passed. Then he turned back. “Your sister. If only she was as reliable as you. I've got to go. But Dexter, you got this. I believe in you.”

“Well, that made one,” Dexter thought to himself, but didn't voice that opinion out loud. If the past two days had shown anything that he was even less prepared than he had thought. Who knows what other troubles will catch him tomorrow. 

After a quick goodbye, the mirror returned to normal. Leaving Dexter alone. Surrounded by nut-jobs and crazy witches. What else could go wrong?

---

Chapter 5

---

This was a mess. Dexter wanted to flee to his room - the borrowed master suite of great aunt Vera - and hide under the pillows. So far, the consultations had been exactly what he had expected. Older men who looked for tonics to be young again. Well, to perform like a young man when it comes to ladies. Witch tonics handled better than the little blue pills pharmaceutical companies churned out. Not to mention that the tonics were all out of natural ingredients. It was a bit cringey to talk about that, but there were worse topics. 

No, it was the women that visited Dexter that made him want to sink into the floor in shame. The number one reason for a visit to a witch was finding easement to an age old malady: period pains. A witch could do a lot. From potions that lessened the ordeal to enchanting liners. A few special herbs - helped along by magic - could do a lot. It couldn't be taken all away, but those who had a residing witch nearby preferred it to anything commercially available. 

And it was here that Dexter just felt plain bad about being in disguise. He had to pretend that he knew what these women went through. That he was one of them. It felt so wrong. Especially the last visitor. A thirteen year old girl and her mother. Why have the talk with a daughter if a witch could do it so much better? All part of the expected services a witch could provide. And as such, of him. It made him feel worse than a hypocrite. But he had to remind himself what was at stake. If this witch hut was lost to the Ashlands, what services would sadistic witches provide? 

He hoped the next client would be something easy. Like an exfoliation job or a simple ward against evil spirits. Those Dexter hadn't a problem with.

“Mistress Adriana?” 

Dexter looked up. Seeking Rose in her slightly fetish version of a nurse outfit. He had debated asking her to change into something more traditional and appropriate but doubted that Rose had something like this in her wardrobe. It wasn't that bad. Just a normal nurse uniform. In PVC. And she wore bright red high heels. Dexter admitted he might fool himself.

“You can send in the next client,” Dexter said after collecting his thoughts.

Rose hesitated. “I thought you might want a heads up. The next client is Selina Ashland.”

Dexter stiffened in his seat. Her again. As if thinking about her and her wretched family had summoned the witch. She was probably trolling for weaknesses to exploit. Anything to unseat Dexter and the Hawthorne family from this witch hut. Dexter steeled himself and then nodded towards Rose. 

As Rose led her in, Selina was cordial with a genuine smile. Behaving this way, Dexter had to admit that Selina had some beauty to her. But the moment the witch laid eyes on Dexter, the lividity vanished. Like the water of a lake freezing in seconds solid, Selina was all business. 

Right. This wasn't a courteous visit. Dexter was no fool. This was a test. Meant to ensnare and trap him. But he wouldn't let her. Whatever she had prepared, Dexter could handle it. 

“Miss Ashland.” Dexter stood up and gave her a big smile. A fake one, but that was alright. Both knew this was a duel of wits. Not a real consultation. “Please take a seat and tell me what brings you here.”

Selina smoothed out her pencil skirt - the ashen stitching depicted a dragon skeleton - and took a seat just as Dexter sat down again. “Miss Hawthorne.” No honored witch or any other official title. A slight at Dexter. Tit for tat, as Dexter had purposely omitted her honorific too. “I fear I have been cursed.”

Dexter gave a somber nod. He had expected something along these lines. To test the more mundane business witches were expected to do. No, she was here to test his magical prowess. 

“Cursed?” Dexter repeated on purpose. “A witch of your renown? It must be serious.” Never mind that said renown was so small that Dexter had never heard of her. Then again, the Ashlands threw out offspring like nobody's business. 

Selina, for her part, didn't fall for the slight as a trap. Speaking calmly, she said: “It must be just beyond my perception, though I can feel the effect. But someone worthy of a witch hut, must be more than capable to find and remove such curse. Of that, I am sure.”

The implication was clear. Fail and she would denounce him as fraud. And that would give the Ashland family an in to get the Hawthorne family removed as resident witches of Silver Creek. 

“Of course,” Dexter replied. What else was there to say? Of any trap the Ashland witch could have laid, this one Dexter was most comfortable with. He had always been good with perception of magic. More than that, he could lift off patterns and recast it as his own. Just like had done with the enchantment his sister had placed in the mirror cabinet days earlier.

It took a moment for the sight to activate. He knew that it was visible - even to mundanes - as his irises would turn golden and start glowing. As expected, magic was all around him in a witch hut. That was only natural. But while he could see the magic surrounding him in other rooms, the consultation room lacked it. Probably great aunt Vera's doing. Doing a screening for curses and enchantments was routine enough that one wanted to lower distracting influences. 

Dexter stood up and walked around his desk. So, the background glow of the nearby supply closet for potions, tonics, and other magical remedies wouldn't distract him either. There. An enchantment. It was not easy to make out at first. Dexter had to concentrate to get a clearer picture.

“There it is,” Dexter remarked. Not really for Selina's benefit. It slipped his tongue absent-mindedly as he studied it further. “Quite the silly little curse. The urge to sneeze whenever you see a dog? Childish. Perhaps a younger sibling or someone from your extended family. If so, they might be a prodigy. No wonder you couldn't sense it, as it was very nicely concealed.” 

Of course, that was further verbal fencing. Now that Dexter had a clear picture of the enchantment - this being silly enough that it hardly counted as a curse - he could make out that it had been cast by Selina herself. She had tried to mask her own essence woven into the magic, but Dexter could still pick up traces. Enough to be sure. 

All that was left was to destroy the enchantment. Other witches would simply tear into the strands of magic. Dispel it by force. But Dexter wanted - really needed - to show off. Strand by strand, he carefully removed the enchantment. Only when it was completely free, he dispelled it in a quick move. Nice and clean. Professional. 

“Your curse” - he couldn't help but smirk a little - “has been removed. Anything else I can help you with?”

The witch before him hesitated. Clearly Selina hadn't expected him to find and dispose of the enchantment that easily. “No, that was all,” she eventually said. Standing up, she smoothed her skirt yet again. “Thank you for your time.”

Just as Selina turned, Dexter caught something strange. A merest wisp of magic that trailed off Selina like an errand string a tailor had forgotten to cut. It was intriguing. And then it dawned on him. The supposed curse Selina had brought in. It had been too easy to find. This was a test after all. She must have hidden two enchantments. One a distraction and the other the real test. Not on Dexter's watch.

“A moment please,” Dexter spoke up. Selina hesitated at the door. For a brief second, she honestly looked confused. “I may have been hasty in pronouncing you disenchanted. Please take a seat again.”

Selina narrowed her eyes. Did she suspect foul-play? Dexter found the notion stupid. It had been her to hide a second bespellment. She shouldn't be surprised that he had caught this one too. 

“Are you sure, witch Hawthorne?” 

Dexter gave her his best pleasant smile. “Please entertain me.”

Halting, Selina made her way back. Taking a seat beside Dexter again. He did his best to hunt for that wisp again. Whatever he had seen was very well hidden. After a minute, he wasn't sure if he had imagined it. 

There! Once again, he had caught it. Trailing off Selina like an errant smoke. This time, he could pinpoint the source. “Please, would you be so kind as to remove your vest and blouse.”

Selina looked as if Dexter had grown a second head. “Is this some pretense to ogle my chest?”

He actually needed a moment to parse her statement. Too distracted by that elusive query of his hunt. Yes, he just had asked a woman to disrobe and expose herself. Even from woman to woman - as Dexter currently pretended - this was unusual. As most witches turned out lesbian.

“Of course not. We Hawthornes wouldn't do that.” His indignation was real, but Dexter reminded himself that Selina had a point. “I noticed a trace of magic. Faint. But I narrowed down the anchoring place. However, as you know, mundane objects can act as a barrier to the sight. So, I ask you, again, to disrobe.” 

There was a moment of indecision, but then Selina started to unbutton her vest with a hint of anger in her actions. The blouse followed a moment later. Revealed was a charcoal gray bra with stitching of red roses. It left Dexter stunned for a moment. The base color was pure Ashland alright, but the rose motive was a little off the beaten path. Not what he had expected. 

“Please hold still,” Dexter finally managed to say and then tried to do the impossible. He did his best not to stare at her breasts. While having to intensely stare at her chest for any hint of magic. “It's flickering,” he remarked after a minute. “Most of the time it appears inactive, but it flares up nearly every minute.” Dexter didn't notice the doubt in Selina's eyes. He was too involved in his hunt. Minutes passed. With each flicker, he narrowed it down. “I think I have it.” Reaching out without thought and laying his finger just below Selina's right breast. “It's anchored on the third rip from below on the right side.”

“Do you now?” Dexter didn't hear the infliction of anger and annoyance in Selina's tone. “And what is IT, if I may ask?”

“Based on the behavioral pattern and what I can glean of the structure, I would say it is a tracking spell.” Dexter used a little of his own magic to extend his senses. “It's old. Not like the red herring you cast this morning on yourself. At least a decade.” Dexter let go and leaned back. Taking a moment to crack his neck. “It will take a moment, but I can remove it safely.”

Just as Dexter was about to lean back in, Selina gave a sharp “Wait!”. Then she asked: “If you remove it, the person who had cast it will know, right?”

“Persons,” Dexter corrected. “For this permanence it would take a ritual. But yes, the absence would be noticed. Provided they still check the tracker.”

Selina stared at him. Her jaw was working. She was angry, he could tell, but for once he thought it wasn't directed at him. “Instead of destroying it, would it be possible to transfer it to a new anchor?”

Now it was Dexter's turn to contemplate. Sure, in theory, it should be possible. But he had never done so before. “I can try,” Dexter said and held up his hand to stifle any comment by Selina. “If it works, it will be temporary. Whoever had cast this tracker on you had made it in a way that it feeds off your own aura. This is why it was so hard to detect and probably the reason you never noticed. I have to transfer it to an object. One not living. Which means the enchantment will fail sooner or later.”

Ohe short moment of contemplation and then Selina nodded. Dexter stood up and made for the supply closet. Here was everything a witch normally needed for consultations. It took only a cursory search to find what he was looking for. Pieces of different types of wood. Cut to the size of coasters, but three times as thick. Of the easily identifiable types, Dexter saw oak, espen, and pine. But he grabbed the piece of Hawthorne. Just a little jab. Reminding Selina just who came to her rescue. 

The actual transfer took a while. The enchantment was really hard to detect and even harder to remove without destroying the fragile construct. Twenty-three minutes later, it was settled into the piece of Hawthorne. 

“I'll give it a month,” Dexter let her know. “Not more. The enchantment was fixed to bone and is now settled to wood. There are similarities I don't need to remind you of as a fellow witch.”

Selina took it and for a moment her mantle of cold indifference slipped once more. “Thank you.” She redressed quickly. For the briefest moment, Dexter saw a gnarly scar on her backside, but then she had her blouse on. Followed by her vest. When she was ready to leave, she turned around one last time. “Will you be at the festival? The residing witch is always a guest of honor and as far I know, Vera never missed it.”

He cursed himself. For a moment, Dexter had forgotten that they were from rival families. One test passed and the next one was already waiting. He really shouldn't let his guard down around her. 

“Of course, I will,” Dexter confirmed cheerfully. “All part of showing the people around here that they can depend on the Hawthorne witches.”

There was a pause. Dexter thought Selina would speak up once more, but she turned around and left. 

Moments later, Rose appeared in the doorway. “That was a long consultation, mistress. She may come over a bit frosty and uptight, but I think I like her.”

Dexter frowned. “Be careful. Never trust an Ashland. They've been known to seduce witches just to get an heir of a certain bloodline. Just to dump the sponsoring witch a second later. And never mind what they will do to mundane maids.” He made sure that he really held the maid’s attention. “I know that you are into BDSM and you hoped with my great aunt Vera to experience a few things. Well, I am not her. To be honest, I don't know much about BDSM. But I do know that consent is important, right? Ashlands are sadists. The only way they care about your consent is to find your limits and then break them on purpose. Am I clear?”

By the looks of how pale Rose has become the message was received. Still, she gave a “crystal” as confirmation. An awkward pause. Then: “Should I send in the next visitor?”

“One moment,” Dexter said while indicating Rose shouldn't leave. “She said something about a festival. I agreed to go. To show flag, so to speak. Do you know anything?”

“I think I saw some posters, but don't recall details.” Thoughtful Rose made way for cheerful Rose in an instant. “I shall find out! Anything else?”

“No, that will be all. And thanks.” Sometimes, it was really good to have a personal maid, Dexter mused. “You can now show in the next visitor.”

A few hours later, Dexter wanted to shove that enchantment back onto Selina and add a few others to boot. “What is this?” Dexter asked while pointing at the website Rose had opened. 

“It's called the Neptune Festival,” Rose helpfully provided. “Apparently it is some kind of festival for kids. To be baptized into the realm of Neptune. It is not to be mistaken for whatever they do at Virginia Beach. Instead, it has its heritage in Germany. Apparently, there were quite a few immigrants from there that settled in Silver Creek. It is all meant to be good fun, I think.”

“I get that!” Dexter said. Followed by an exasperated sigh. “But why are all the women topless?”

To his dismay he could spot Vera in many of the pictures. On the flier Rose had scrunched up and on the website. She was wearing some kind of bikini shorts with added skirt and a mix of a small witch hat and a bathing cap. Both appeared to be rubber or neoprene and had a fish scale print. 

“Oh, right!” Rose openly ogled Dexter's chest. “That would pose a problem with your flat-chest dilemma.”

“I don't have a flat-chest dilemma,” Dexter snapped on impulse. “I have a normal chest. Normally. Usually. It's because of a dare. Prank? A prank that turned to a dare. I would have counter-spelled it, but I had to leave so suddenly that I forgot to write a copy of it down for me.”

Several seconds passed and Dexter was sure now he had messed up for sure. Then a visible epiphany struck Rose. “Oh, that's why you spend so much time in the library. To find the counterspell. Now, that makes sense.”

Dexter let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding until he let go. “Exactly. And as much as I want to turn in for the night, I better hit the library again. It appears this festival is in four days.”

“I'll help! 

Dexter was about to dismiss Rose but then thought better of it. This was a nightmare all around. He needed all the help he could get. Instead of waving her off, he indicated Rose to follow. 

This would be a long day.

---

In a small apartment in town, Selina absent-mindedly caressed the piece of wood. Hawthorne. Probably meant as a slight but oddly reassuring for her. She thought she had hidden her little test enchantment well. Only for this imposter to spot it right away. Worse, she had spotted something Selina hadn't. Now bound to wood, Selina could make out the tracer enchantment. Barely and faintly. At the edge of her own perception and ability. 

The imposter was good. Selina could admit it in the privacy of her own mind. But fake Adriana had made yet another mistake. The real one had golden glow in her eyes while dipping into the sight. But it was only flecks of it. Most was emerald green. No, this was not Adriana. 

Every other Ashland would run to the matron of their coven and report it. But that was the furthest on Selina's mind. She needed the Hawthorns. The thought made her instinctively stroke the wood again. For her own ambitions and goals, the imposter had to succeed. At least, until Selina was in the clear. Then the imposter could belly up for all that she cared for. 

Four days to the festival. In itself not important. But the residing witch needed to show presence. Else rumors might sprout. Selina couldn't have that. Not now. So close to her goal. Where the hell was the real Adriana? Questions burned in Selina and gnawed at her soul. 

No matter what. 

She had to succeed. 

Ashlands didn't look too kindly to those who failed them.

---

Chapter 6

---

Talk about a save at the last minute. It was Sunday and the day of the festival. Finally, Dexter had found the spell he was looking for. Two actually. One to give himself breasts and one to slim down his shoulders slightly. There was no time to lose, yet Dexter still hesitated. This felt like another step further away from normal. A deep breath. What must be done, must be done. 

First, his shoulders. He wasn't as broad shouldered as a few other guys he had grown up with. A little sore spot, but if he had, this whole disguise oneself as a witch plan would have fallen apart at conception. It only took a bit of nudging to reach something that looked natural for him.

Then the breasts. The spell was recited and nothing happened. As expected, the spell was only the foundation. Dexter channeled a little bit of magic and the growth started. It was a peculiar sensation as slowly his nipples pushed out. Resting on the barest amount of fat. A not quite unpleasant experience. It slowed down and came to a stop with barely any developed breasts. His chest looked like a prepubescent teen. For his frame, this might not even count as an A-cup. 

Dexter shot more magic into the spell and his new breasts reacted. It wasn't an explosion of flesh that happened. But the size jumped. Not the slow expansion after the first shot of magic. He could feel the weight on his chest growing. How the skin felt a little stretched until it too grew to fit the new size. 

As it settled, Dexter studied his own reflection in the mirror. His new not-quite all-natural breasts were nearly as large and heavy as the inserts Rose had lent him. For a moment, Dexter was tempted to leave it like that. He could easily cup them and cover the majority of them. B-cup or C-cup he mused. Then again, his experience with the cup system was limited and it still was confusing to him. (He rather studied fertilizing tables for different herbs.) This should be enough to be perceived womanly and have a size that wouldn't bother him too much in his daily life.

Then the face of Selina flashed in his mind. It was a silly notion, but he couldn't show up with anything less than she had. Surely, there would be snide comments and Dexter couldn't have any controversy. And he wanted to beat her, Dexter realized. So, he channeled more magic into the spell.

This time, saying they “exploded outward” wasn't that far from the truth. The expansion was surprisingly pleasurable and he couldn't suppress a moan. It distracted him for a moment. And then he saw the fallout on his reflection. This was more than a handful. In fact, if he cupped them from underneath, his hands didn't even reach his nipples. It wasn't quite pornstar proportions, but he wasn't too far off. 

Should he shrink them? If not, there would be hell to pay in back pain. Even witches couldn't avoid that completely. But this would definitely wipe any smirk off Selina's face. That alone was too tempting. The rest, he had to deal with. 

The next step was to dress up. Rose had found the infamous swimsuit Vera had worn to previous festivals. First, he grabbed the bottom with an attached skirt. It glided smoothly over his legs. Still a strange feeling. Of course, his sister Alexis had a spell in her grimoire for getting that bikini figure and getting rid of unnecessary body hair. Anticipating he would need it, Dexter had copied it. Unbeknownst to him, that spell really went to town. There was not a single hair left. 

Maybe that was for the best. As he came up to the most unpleasant part. He had to hide his bait and tackle. Dexter couldn't rely on the skirt obscuring all from stray looks. Hence, he had to tuck. For a moment, he had contemplated asking Rose. She was, after all, a feminine presenting man. She was just so convincing that Dexter often forgot. No, he wasn't ready to spill the beans yet. 

Instead, he eyed the pieces of water proof tape he had prepared. It would have to do. Piece by piece, he gave himself a permanent wedgie. To his surprise, it wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. Probability due to the tonic. Dexter wasn't surprised to find a little potion in the supply closet that made any man unable to get hard. Most likely requested by wives who wanted to cut their husbands to size. Sure, it would make Dexter quite impotent for three days. But better to sport a hard-on at the beach when he shouldn't even have the equipment in the first place.

The potion and tape did their job. The swimsuit bottom settled snugly. It was nearly flat. A little mound could still be seen. But that was normal, right? And even if someone saw - past the skirt - they probably think Dexter just had a camel toe. 

Next was the top. A strappy thing with a unique design. The straps - two over the shoulder and two under the armpit - met in the middle of his back and were connected together by one strange clasp. Closing this devilish design was hard. Especially if all four straps had to be hooked at the same time and because it was behind his back. The other brassieres he had worn - by now a few - didn't have anything even closely as complicated as this. 

“Rose!” Dexter shouted out. He admitted defeat. “Help me with this stupid top. I can't get it to close.”

Rose rushed into the room - probably having waited before Dexter's doors - and stopped deadpan. Her eyes grew wide. “Mistress! Whatever stupid dare could make you give up these magnificent beauties?”

There was no helping it. Dexter blushed. They weren't his natural assets. Magic has conjured them. But who could ignore such sincere flattery? Seconds passed and the situation became awkward. “The top?” Dexter prompted. 

“Right away, Mistress!”

Despite having the clasp before her and not on her back, Rose needed a few tries. It really was finicky and once they thought Rose had done it, only for the clasp to come undone and the top fly off Dexter's chest. A slight twist at the end of the ordeal secured the clasp further, but Dexter sincerely hoped he wouldn't have a wardrobe malfunction. 

At least the last piece of the outfit couldn't get undone. The strange hybrid of a small witch hat and bathing cap had a resting enchantment. Dexter only had to put it on his head and feed it a little magic. Anchoring it to his scalp by magic. 

Rose gave him a last glance over. “The top might be slightly too small for you. And it is such a shame to cover these beauties. Are you sure you don't want to go bare-chested? Apparently, others do too.”

“Quite sure,” Dexter replied. And then couldn't help but needle a bit. “Jealous, Rose?”

“Well, I can take mine off at the end of the day,” Rose answered flippantly. Scoring a low blow in Dexter's book. “But, yes! Who wouldn't?”

Dexter was at a loss for words. It was time to change the topic. “To the beach. We have a festival to attend.”

“Quite so, Mistress.”

On their way to the beach, Dexter was reminded just how nuts Rose was. He walked down in a fancy bikini (with extras) and sandals with a small heel. Rose was in high heels. And her whole black and white lace maid uniform. Seemingly not caring about the sun shining down on her. All the while carrying a picnic basket and blanket. As well as towels for the eventuality of Dexter going for a swim. It was pretty clear Rose didn't expect to go into the water herself. 

“You know, you could have come in casual clothes.”

“Mistress.” The one word by Rose reminded Dexter of the governess he had growing up with. Especially when he had said something stupid that he should know better. “I am still on duty as your maid.”

“You must be the honorable witch, Adriana Hawthorne.” The cheerful greeting belonged to a woman heading straight for Dexter, who had to drop his topic with Rose. “I am Brandy. Yes, like the drink. We are so glad that you made it. We weren't sure. Sorry to hear about honorable witch Vera. We are all rooting for her. What did she have? Ah, before I forget. You are probably unfamiliar with the festival. I was elected your guide.”

He needed a full ten seconds to parse all the information. “Vera is fine. Just away on a very important coven business.” This was good to correct first. Least rumors sprang up. Or even the truth. “I am-”

“We actually have seen each other!” Brandy beamfully interrupted. All smiles despite interrupting Dexter. “From afar. Here and there in the town. I didn't want to intrude.”

“Yes, I thought you looked familiar,” Dexter lied politely. It was better than his first impulse. And way more diplomatic. “About the festival-”

“Of course, you aren't familiar. Aww, poor honorable witch Vera. It is one of her favorite festivals you must know. She helped shape it a bit. Come. I'll introduce you to everyone and tell you what it is all about.” Before Dexter could react, Brandy had hooked her arm around Dexter's and dragged him along. “Nobody knows where the tradition comes from. Yes, from Germany. We had quite a few immigrants from there. But before that? I don't know.”

Dexter stifled a sigh. This might become a long day. Especially if Brandy was hovering around him for all of it. They walked down the last steps from the promenade to the embankment to the not quite white sandy beach. Decorations were everywhere. Though Dexter doubted the tiki-torches had anything to do with a festival of German origin. In the center of it all was a cobbled together throne. Seemingly made out of driftwood. But mostly of painted foam and wires. 

“This is his highness Neptune,” Brandy introduced the occupant of said throne. A guy in his thirties that could pose on the cover of fitness magazines. His impressive physique was painted greenish blue and he had a fake white beard and holding a trident. 

“Elias Benton, for most of the year.” He offered his hand. A little startled, Dexter took it. Thankfully Elias didn't plant a kiss on it like some last century gentleman of romance novels, but gave a playful shake. “And this is my horde of catchers.” Behind him were more painted blue men. College age, maybe. ”Glad you could make it. Has Brandy given you the rundown?”

“Oh, we are in the middle of it,” Brandy chirped up before Dexter could get a word in. “Alright. So, this is the normal process. This is a festival for children and up to teenagers. They come one by one to present themselves to Neptune. More as a test of bravery.”

“What's my part in all this?” Dexter managed to ask when Brandy finally paused to take a breath.

“You are Neptune's witch, of course.” Brandy's smile was bright and Dexter had to really try not to roll his eyes. “You are the first advisor of King Neptune and giver of the first test. This is your witch cauldron.”

Dexter eyed the glass bowl wearily. It was wrapped in tinfoil that was painted dark gray and decorated with something resembling algae. “What's in it?” Dexter couldn't help but ask as he tried to determine what the yellow liquid was. 

“Mostly lemonade. A little vinegar. Well, a lot. Some herbs and mustard seeds to make it a little spookier. Yes, it is supposed to taste terrible. Part of the challenge.” Brandy offered a taste to Dexter who indicated he rather not. “This test had always been part of the Neptune Festival, but a few years back the honorable witch Vera suggested she take part. We have adjusted the festival to give this role to her.”

“This shouldn't be too hard.” Poor kids, but Dexter had feared worse. At least he wasn't a judge in a wet t-shirt contest. “What comes next?”

“Then, the kids run away. We'll, they try to.” Brandy pointed at the young men painted in blue who were joking among themselves. “These fine gentlemen will catch them and throw them into the water. That's the baptism in Neptune's name.”

What a strange festival, but Dexter thought if the kids had fun, it would be alright. “What if they manage to get away?” 

“Ah, they don't. That isn't the goal. They try to stay out as long as they can. Rather sooner than later, they all end up in the lake. Then, they return to Neptune and receive a name based on how well they did.” Brandy showed Dexter a few certificates. Each with another strange name in bold letters. Anything from Cuddly Sea Urchin to Shiny Goldfish. A few were more flattering and others purely comedic in nature. But they all were themed around the ocean. Dexter wondered who would become Snappy Crap, when Brandy continued. “Of course, it is kind of random. Still, most kids are kind of proud of them. I still have half a dozen somewhere in the attic from my baptisms.”

Gradually the beach filled and at two in the afternoon, King Neptune held an opening speech. Then, it was time to wait. The first brave soul was a girl of maybe twelve years who dared to step before King Neptune. Dexter had surprisingly a lot of fun playing the cackling witch who dared the girl to drink her special brew. The grimace the girl made was a delight to see. Still shaking from the horrible drink, she tried to bolt. She made it twenty meters before she was caught. A respectable distance according to Brandy's whisper. Grabbed by shoulder and feet, the catchers gave her a good few swings before she sailed with a cry of delighted surprise through the air. Landing with a big splash in the lake's water. Dripping, but proud, she made it back to King Neptune. Who took a certificate handed by Brandy - glanced at it - and proclaimed her new name to be Mischievous Mermaid. 

With the first brave soul surviving, others found their guts to try too. The youngest maybe seven or eight and the oldest could have been sixteen. For two hours, Dexter dispensed drinks and Neptune certificates of baptism. He still felt sorry for the poor lad who ended up as Frozen Fish Stick. Others were white happy with Dashing Dolphin or Pirate Penguin. 

As the line of volunteers ebbed away, Dexter could finally take a breather. “You know, if I had known before, I could have supplied a witch brew with a little more effect. Nothing harmful. Just a little creepier.”

“Vera offered too,” Brandy remarked unusually muted. “But we caught her before trying to spike the bowl with a bit of vodka. Not fit for children, you know. Hence, we are a bit on the lookout. Not that I want to say you would do something like this. But we also hadn't known you would step in until the last minute.”

Finally, Dexter could join Rose on the picnic blanket and enjoy a sandwich and iced tea. It was loud though. Being a festival for children and all. Playing in and around the water. Dexter didn't mind. This is what a residing witch was all about. Sometimes curing curses or dispensing remedies. Other times, a witch was to participate in communal events and help the local town flourish. 

However, Dexter's break didn't last long. Brandy was waving her over. A little reluctant, Dexter stood up and walked over. 

“Do you notice anything?” Brandy asked as Dexter joined her. 

He looked around. Plenty of children milling around. There was a game of water polo going on. A few tweens had a competition who could jump the farthest from the small dock. And then he noticed. First one. Then more and more as he knew what to look out for. 

“Why are those girls taking their tops off?” All of them appeared to be in their senior years of high school. Each of them handing over their top to a boy. Then they slowly - seemingly casually - made their way towards Dexter.

“Well, a few years back. About nearly two decades ago, Vera was adamant the youth of today were too prude. And to teach them a lesson, she used magic to steal all the older teenage girls' bikini tops. Which gave rise to a new tradition.” Brandy paused for dramatic effect. “The year after, all the girls banded together. Handing their tops to a chosen guardian so it can't be stolen. And then, they would attempt to steal Vera's top. Now, it is part of the tradition.”

Suddenly, Dexter felt like a human treading water in shark infested waters. The girls steadily inched closer. Dexter had to do something. “You know, I am not my great aunt.”

“But you wear her top, so the tradition stands.” Brandy stepped closer and laid an arm on Dexter's shoulder. “A few last pieces of advice. You may use a little magic, but not too much or harmful. You are expected to hunt them and get your top back. Oh, and most importantly, be prepared for trickery.”

Dexter hadn't fully digested the last piece of advice when he felt Brandy's hand slip down. A twist of a clasp and his bikini top flew off him in a majestic arc. He only reacted to catch it, when it was way out of reach. A second passed. First reaction: to cover his breasts with his arms. Then, instead of going after the girl who caught his top, he turned to Brandy.

She gave him a mischievous smile and shrug. “I warned you. Also, I was part of that original generation and first of the revengers. That's what we call ourselves.” A few more seconds passed. Dexter was too stunned to do anything. Until Brandy pushed him towards the beach. “What are you waiting for? Catch them.”

That made Dexter snap out of it. Alright, they wanted a boogie man? A boogie witch? Dexter could provide. Sprinting full tilt, two things became obvious: running with large breasts sucked and those girls were nimble. But Dexter wasn't without tricks. A little telekinesis and girls flew into the water. Others succumbed to tickle spells. But whenever he targeted one girl with his top, it was thrown to the next before Dexter could catch up. Then the last girl ran for the dock. Dexter hot on her heels. They jumped and hit the water nearly simultaneously. Triumphant, Dexter held his recaptured top high. It didn't last long. The chase quickly dissolved into an all-out tickle brawl.

Eventually, they were all just splashing around in the water. Having fun. Dexter not even knowing anymore where the top had ended up. And then he saw her. Selina Ashland. Standing on the dock in full regalia and looking down on him. Her gaze unreadable. 

“What?” He taunted her. “Aren't Ashlands up for a good time?” Playfully, he splashed some water at her. Which fell short, but the challenge was out. “Come on. That stick up your ass will probably make a great flotation device. Or are you afraid you can't compete with these?” Proudly showing off his great large breasts. He knew there was a reason why he made them so large. And the reason was the small frown he saw, before Selina turned around and marched off. 

Soon, Dexter found himself in a match of water polo with the girls that followed no rules he knew. But it was fun. And after the anxiety of the last few days, it felt good to cut loose. 

“Mistress! Mistress!” 

It took a few shouts from Rose to alert him to her presence. The maid was on the docks and waving him over. Grinning, Dexter made his way over. 

“Mistress.” Rose knelt down and lowered her voice. “It appears your voice is getting a little hoarse.” She procured the very spray that Dexter used to get his voice feminine. The spray he had forgotten to pack after using it this morning. “Might I suggest taking your medicine?”

Dexter took it and quickly applied two pumps of spray down his throat. “Thanks, Rose.” There was an awkward silence as he handed it back. “You are a very perceptive maid.”

As she was already kneeling, Rose gave a short bow instead of a curtsy. “I aim to please, mistress.”

“Remind me to reward this dedication later.”

That put a smile on Rose's face. “If it pleases you, mistress.” Another small bow and Rose returned to the blanket. 

This was bad. Dexter nearly had messed up. At least now he knew Rose was in his corner. And then he saw her. This time, Selina wasn't on the dock. No, she had retreated to higher ground. Near the street. He could barely make out her features, but the gray outfit was unique enough. Always watching. He couldn't-

Quick steps alerted Dexter that someone was running along the dock. This resulted in a big splash that caught Dexter. When he looked up, Selina wasn't up by the street anymore. 

Another splash drew his attention to the one who had dive bombed beside him. Wait. Selina? Then who had he seen up by the street?

“Challenge accepted, Hawthorne,” Selina shouted before sending another splash of water towards him. “And just to make it a fair fight.” Dexter barely noticed that Selina's bikini was bright red - and not gray as one might expect - before she slipped out of her top and flung it away. “Intimidated? Giving up? Show me what you got.”

“Oh, it's on!”

The water polo game resumed. Now even more confusing as a hint of magic trickery made it into the game.

---

 

Smiling brightly, Dexter and Rose slowly made their way back to the mansion. The sun was fading and the festival had died down. Most adults where content to herd their children back and to ignore how high school boys and girls celebrated a little longer.

“Oh, shot!” Dexter suddenly remembered. “The top!”

“Not to worry, mistress.” Rose produced the bikini top from the picnic basket. “I have the clasp too.”

“You really deserve a reward,” Dexter mused out loud.

“How magnificent of a reward?” 

The glance Rose gave Dexter wasn't very covert. And he still walked around bare-chested. The implication was clear. 

“Not that magnificent.” Seconds passed. Then Dexter let Rose off the hook. “After all, I need room to give out future rewards.”

That got a smile from Rose. “Very well, mistress.”

A bargain was struck. For now, Rose was on his side. And he liked her. Oddities and weird fetishes notwithstanding. 

They made it a few dozen meters further before Rose spoke up again. “It appeared you had fun with Miss Ashland.”

He shrugged. “I had. Wasn't sure an Ashland could cut loose like that. She isn't so bad when she lets go.”

“Might I return the favor and caution you?” Rose asked. “You spoke of their deceitful manor and of seducing others if it falls within their plans.”

“Right. I mustn't let my guard down.”

---

Chapter 7

---

Dexter was in a good mood. And why shouldn't he be? It was the morning after the Neptune Festival. That had been surprisingly fun. After a few tense days, this had been a welcome change. Finally, he had found the breast augmentation spell. This not just meant he didn't have to spend his free time hunting for it in an absolutely chaotic library. Not to mention that it doubled as a means to reward Rose. The maid had proven to be loyal and discrete. Of course, it had its drawbacks. 

“Rose?”

The maid looked up. As he insisted, the maid was having breakfast with him. But the maid insisted in turn to sit at the other end of the table. Being a servant and all. 

“This tastes very good,” he praised. Only to come down on her in the next breath. “It would be a shame if it got cold. Say, for example, because a maid can't stop fondling her new tits.”

“They are hardly big enough to be called tits,” Rose murmured. Unfortunately, loud enough that Dexter heard. 

“I could always shrink them a bit,” Dexter continued nonchalantly while giving her a big Cheshire cat grin. “Say half? That should be less distracting.”

“No, Mistress!” Rose blushed at her outburst. “This is fine. I'll behave.” Quickly grabbing her utensils to start eating. 

The breasts augmentation spell really was versatile, Dexter mused. It could be utilized as a reward and as a punishment. At least, when it came to Rose.

“Excuse me,” Dexter said as he finished first and pushed off the table. For the first time in a few days, he had some breathing room for his own activities. As consultation hours today wouldn't start until the afternoon. 

For a moment, Dexter actually hesitated about what to do. He hadn't really packed anything personal of his and while he loved practicing his magic openly, he dreaded another day in the library. Sure, there were probably many useful or simply cool spells he could copy. His grimoire needed to be filled a little more. But the prospect of putting his nose into books again so soon wasn't really appealing. 

It was time for one of the lowest forms of entertainment: snooping. He should be above it, but he told himself that if Vera had any more surprises in store, he better find them now. In other words, his snooping was totally legitimate. 

The ground floor was - as expected - reserved for entertaining guests - private and professional - and for the service staff. A good portion of the ground floor was reserved for the consultation room, reception and waiting area, and the supply closet. A little further he found stairs leading down marked as supply and workshop. So far, he hadn't needed either, but it didn't hurt to look. The cellar was smaller than expected. But it had indeed a root cellar. This one more to the function of drying herbs and roots as a means to preserve them. 

It reminded Dexter of one of those crazy people. The witch hunter. Hadn't one of them “feared” - actually hoped - to be bound and strung up on the ceiling of a cellar? What was her name? Dexter thought it might be Lori. Well, Lori was out of luck. This cellar didn't have space for her anyway. 

Near the kitchen, he found yet another cellar. Along with an elevator reserved for servants. Rose's domain. Should he snoop? Of course, he should. This cellar was small too. Using it as a storage area for everything such a large household needed. From laundry detergent to fertilizer for the gardens. With a chuckle, Dexter had to admit there was no space for Lori either. The cellar was packed too full. 

Dexter was nearly done with exploring the ground floor when he noticed yet another stairway leading downward. What was this one for? Curious, Dexter made his way down. Just opening the first door proved to be a mistake. The room beyond was huge. Easily larger than the previous two cellars combined. It was painted red and black. Filled with all kinds of contraptions. Not quite means of torture. But just a casual glance revealed plenty of space to tie Lori to the ceiling like some kind of chandelier. Or tie her to the floor. Any piece of furniture was also available. In fact, there was enough room to bind up two dozens of Lori's. Dexter had found Vera's BDSM dungeon.

“Nope,” he simply said aloud and turned around. Taking the first door of the hallway before him. This wasn't the way back to the stairs. He had stumbled into some kind of clinic. Very careful not to even touch anything, Dexter stepped back and closed the door. Wearily, he looked at the hallway with a number of more mysterious doors. At this moment Dexter decided that snooping upstairs would do better for his mental health.

The second floor was safe. He had been here before. It was home to the library. One of them. Dexter had yet to see the other. And dreaded doing so. Apparently, Vera's library was split into professional and naughty. But he hadn't seen much else of this floor. 

What stood out was that Vera really had strange taste in art. In regular intervals were stone pedestals. From these, strange abstract sculptures of gold or silver reached up. In Dexter's opinion, most of it looked like pipes wielded together with some extras and painted to appear posh. Most made no sense to him. Some, he could vaguely make out a resemblance to a human. With legs and arms. What he really wanted to know was how much Vera had spent on these contemporary sculptures. There were a lot of them. Except for the ground floor, every floor was filled with them.

The first room on the second floor momentarily left him confused. Was this a classroom? Complete with desks for twelve students and blackboard. Maybe it was to give the talk to young girls? Or for small conferences of witches? But then the seating arrangement was plain strange. Shaking his head, Dexter made for the next room.

For a moment, Dexter honestly thought he had a stroke. There was a bedroom. It was pink. No, that didn't quite hit the nail on the head. It was so pink that he thought all other colors might have been banished from the universe. And it was feminine. Not the tastefully decorated bedroom of a woman. Not even the level of a very girly teenager. This bedroom was kitted out with so much feminine that one could waterboard and drown someone with it. Closing the better part of valor, Dexter retreated. 

Still slightly dazed by an excessive exposure to pink, Dexter stumbled to the next room. It was oddly normal. Granted, it was a room made to look like it was traditionally Japanese. The whole floor was Tatami mats. It was oddly calming, so Dexter stepped in. There was no furniture, but Dexter had not expected any. Those were probably hidden behind the sliding paper doors. He could actually envision it. A few pillows and a small table. Everything that was needed for a traditional tea ceremony. 

His curiosity flared up again and he took a look inside - the built into the wall - closet. And suddenly, the world didn't make any sense anymore. There were no pillows or small tables. Instead, there was a lot of rope. In all kinds of colors. The natural beige, but also dyed into black, white, red, and pink. Shaking his head, Dexter turned around. Only to catch another detail that didn't make sense. That there were thick wooden beams that might be explained by going for the traditional aesthetic. But why did those beams have eyelets? 

Then it dawned on him. The epiphany rolled over Dexter and he couldn't stop him. These were play rooms. To live out some kind of roleplay inside a BDSM session. It made sense. Too much so. Just how much had Vera dedicated to this aspect of her life? 

He should have stopped, but now he needed to know. Or else his imagination might have been worse. The next was a small burlesque stage. Connected in the back to the next room. Which was - of course - the fitting changing room for dancers. Complete with a few skimpy outfits on nearby racks and a row of vanities with carefully arranged make-up. 

The next room turned out to be the inside of a stable. Thankfully without actual hay. But on one wall were scary looking machines that Dexter didn't even want to guess the purpose of. 

Each room he explored was like if he stepped into a new world through a wormhole. A jarring transition and he was in an utterly different environment. All of them were themed. So, it came as a strong relief that the first few rooms of the third floor proved to be normal guest bedrooms.

And then he heard it.

A strange dripping sound coming from down the hallway.

“Rose?” Dexter called out but got no reply.

Following the sound, he arrived at one of those strange sculptures. And it was occupied. A naked woman was strapped to the golden pipes. She was practically hung up in the air. The sculpture forced her to be horizontal with spread legs. Her sex was exposed for all to see. Well, Dexter got a good look and now found the source of the drippings sound. The subject was so horny and wet that excess steadily dripped down to a shallow bowl below. 

But it was not the only source. The head of the woman was encased in a harness and held up by the structure. A ball-gag prevented speech, but not the drool that escaped her lips, traveled down to her chin, and then made a plunge down to a second bowl. Perhaps the cruelest aspect was the arms and hands. They were held in a pose as if the subject was reaching for her arching sex but fell short by a measly inch or two. 

“Mistress!” Distracted by the sight, Dexter only noticed the click and clack of Rose's high-heels on the hardwood floor as she was practically beside him. “Here you are!”

Deliberately slow, Dexter turned around and then pointed at the bound woman. “Why is there a witch-hunter strapped in that contraption?” He could even guess which hunter it was but kept that to himself. 

“Oh, yes. Miss Boone. I kind of took pity on her.” As Dexter's face was one of stoic neutrality, Rose realized she was not just in trouble, but in deep water. “I am sorry, Mistress. I thought that if I stashed her on the third floor, she would be out of sight. And I have been checking on her regularly.”

“Regularly?” Now he was losing his control a bit. “What? Every hour? What if something happens in between? I don't know. With that gag in her mouth maybe she can choke on spit or what about her limbs? That looks strenuous. Maybe those shackles can cut off her circulation.”

“According to the manual-”

“These things have a manual?”

“Yes, Mistress.” In the battle to keep their cool, Rose definitely was winning. “According to the manual - the one your great aunt wrote herself - these posable restriction devices are meant for long term occupation. They automatically release the subject if anything occurs. Not just at the point of life threatening, but even at the hint of something like that. The manual states that a maid should check periodically - every few hours -to give the subject food, water, and relief. But I share your concern. Hence, I checked every forty-five minutes.”

Whenever Dexter wanted to speak up, Rose had the dastardly ability to point out whatever Dexter would target next. Which left him utterly speechless. That only contributed to his anger. Which wasn't good. Residing witches should be calm, patient, and wise. At least, proper witches. Who knows how an Ashland witch would react. But in the Hawthorne family, it was thought to not make rash decisions. He needed more information. 

“I want to know two things,” Dexter said once he was sure he was calm enough to not be betrayed by his own anger. “How long has she been up here and how many others are on the premises?”

“Only two hours,” Rose was quick to volunteer. “About the second question.” She produced a folder from behind her back. “It appears the honorable witch Vera had some long term clients. In the garden. Petrification. One Amadine Cho is due to be released today.”

“Petrification? Does that mean the statues in the garden are real people?” He was quick to open up the folder. It was a client file for Amadine Cho. It not only contained her current predicament - two weeks that terminated today - but also an extensive history. It appears Miss Cho had been doing this for five years. Her usual duration appeared to be two weeks too and she was a guest - if one could call her that - twice a year. 

Rounded off was the file with the spell used to petrify Miss Cho. It was surprisingly robust as Dexter noticed. The spell could be reversed with a certain code word - helpfully added with a post it note - and without magic. Meaning Rose could have released her without Dexter's help. But she probably didn't know that there was a code word. The spell also reversed if an additional week passed or the statue sustained damage. 

“Three of the statues. Including Miss Cho.” And as if it was an afterthought, she added: “And one tree. That one is rather long term.”

“Let's release her first,” Dexter said and lightly slapped the folder. Lori Boone - he still thought of her as the chandelier girl - could wait. And to be honest, he could just order Lori's release while he wasn't present. This might be less embarrassing for him. 

If Lori had to say anything to the matter, it couldn't be heard. There were moans and the dripping sound all the way until Dexter left the third floor. While he wasn't an expert, he thought she sounded not in distress and rather enjoyed herself. 

“Before we get to Miss Cho, there is the matter of your punishment.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Rose already let her head hang. Not even arguing she had messed up. Dexter was sure she would have a real reason for it in a moment. A slight incantation beneath his breath and Rose suddenly squeaked in surprise. But she didn't protest as she inspected her new endowment. Her new breasts hadn't been very big to begin with. Just barely enough to be fondled at breakfast, as it had turned out. Now, they were half the size. 

“I humbly accept my punishment, Mistress,” Rose eventually said. Just as they exited the mansion. 

“You may ask for the punishment to end tomorrow morning.” Dexter wasn't that cruel. Also, he needed Rose to be on his side. Hence, he couldn't go to extreme lengths. But maybe twisting the thumb screws slightly, might be okay. “And no stuffing your cleavage. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

That was odd. Rose nearly sounded like she liked her punishment. Which might be possible. Dexter came to the realization that his great aunt Vera attracted all kinds of people with various kinks and fetishes. One person's punishment might actually be a reward at the same time. 

The pleasure garden was extensive. Larger than Dexter would have guessed. He wondered who maintained it but pushed the question aside for now. They found Amadine Cho on top of a small fountain. If Dexter hadn't known she was a real woman, he wouldn't have guessed. There were many exquisite - and lewd - female statues scattered throughout the pleasure garden. Only three were people. From afar, Miss Cho looked like any other statue. Naked, beautiful, and with a naughty pose. 

“Let's get this over with,” he murmured. First, he used telekinesis to lift Miss Cho from the fountain. It wouldn't do to transform her back on top of it. This might result in a fall and a nasty law-suit. Dexter still thought lawyers wielded some kind of forbidden magic that nobody wanted to talk about. It was better to play it safe than sorry.

Miss Cho had been kneeling with spread legs. Giving the impression that one of the water sprays the fountain released was her peeing into the fountain. Now, it just gave Dexter a good view of her privates, before he hastily turned away. 

“Rosebud,” he said aloud before this situation could stretch out. 

At once, change could be seen. The transformation wasn't instantaneous. Miss Cho had been white marble with black marbling. Soon the black turned pink. Then it spread. The head was first to turn flesh again. Amadine cracked her neck. Shaking off residual stiffness. Her torso was next and she took a deep breath. Then her limbs followed. Rose was quick to offer a blanket, but Amadine refused at first. Going through a few poses to stretch first. Only then, she accepted the blanket and addressed Dexter. 

“Honored witch. You aren't Vera.”

“My name is Adriana Hawthorne.” The lie went smoother over his lips with every time he told it. “My great aunt Vera is indisposed with important coven business. I am filling in for her regular duties. And apparently her not quite official business too.”

“Amadine Cho.” The part time statue offered her hand for a brief shake, before accepting a bathrobe and slippers from Rose. “That explains why I haven't had many visits in the last two weeks.”

Mentally, Dexter made some quick calculations. He hadn't been here even for a week. Vera managed to fuck herself into a coma with the help of an Incubus just a few days before. This meant that Amadine had arrived just two or three days before everything went belly up. 

“Do you mind if I ask a few questions?” Dexter asked as they made their way back to the mansion. “I am not overly familiar with this subculture my great aunt Vera is involved with.”

Miss Cho shrugged. “I don't see why not. By all means, ask.”

“You don't strike me as a witch-hunter. So, why come here? And why be a statue?”

“Ahh.” The small sound was all Miss Cho gave to acknowledge the question. They walked a few more steps before an answer was forthcoming. “I am, by trade, a day-trader. It is a busy occupation. High stress and high reward. One has to always be active. And when I used to take vacations, I couldn't really switch that off. But here, as a statue, I can't do anything but be still. Not just physically. Mentally, I have to accept that I am stuck too. That I can't act on my worries. Which gives a certain peace of mind. Forces you to relax.”

Dexter nodded along. But he couldn't suppress a shudder too. “Honestly, this sounds scary to me.”

“It was the first few times,” Amadine agreed. “A friend of mine recommended it too. At first, I was skeptical and only went for an hour. Then two. Gradually working my way up. I could already feel the effect. The release of tension. Nowadays, I know that it really blooms into full if you are at least two days up.”

They arrived at the manor. Rose would take Miss Cho to changing rooms and to get her stowed stuff. But Dexter still had questions. “So, this isn't sexual for you?”

Amadine's bright laugh echoed throughout the lobby. “In its essence, no. But if one is to be a statue for two weeks, it might as well be a sexy statue. I think I got the looks to pull that off.”

“But the pose-”

Another mirthful laugh. “Oh, that. Let's just say the honorable witch Vera and I share a certain sense of humor. And displays of naughty acts get more attention. Statues do love attention.”

“I see.”

After a short goodbye, Dexter was left alone with his thoughts. And he had a lot to think about. Amadine and her reason for being a statue in his great aunt's garden was wildly different than what he had imagined. It sounded therapeutic in nature. In addition, it sounded fringe enough that it couldn't be realized everywhere. It needed a witch. One who was unconventional, yet someone people could trust. 

“A Hawthorne supports the community. Always.” His mother's words echoed through his mind. Great aunt Vera definitely was a pervert. Dexter had no doubt about that fact. But maybe she found a way to put it to good use. Now, Dexter couldn't help but wonder about Lori Boone. The witch huntress with aspirations of becoming a chandelier and currently play-acting as a contemporary art-piece. 

“Miss? Something the matter?”

Rose was back. Which meant their guest must have left. Suddenly, Dexter was reminded that Rose wasn't just here to be a maid. That she had needs and wants too. That Rose had chosen great aunt Vera for a reason. 

“Just in thought,” Dexter replied after finishing his wool gathering. “Would you like to earn some size to your breasts back?”

For a brief moment, Rose eyes widened. “I am happy to be of service, Miss. If Miss judges my work is pleasing, I would be honored to receive a reward.”

It couldn't have been a simple yes, Dexter reasoned. This was part of what made Rose tick. “Do me a favor, Rose. Someone has installed a fine art piece on the third floor, where barely anyone will see it. Perhaps a shift to the ground floor would be appropriate. Away from consultation visitors. Or the fourth floor.”

With each word, Rose's smile grew a little wider. “Of course, Mistress. Right away.”

Before Rose could scamper away, Dexter was quick to add a few things. “Make sure she gets bathroom breaks and lunch breaks. And no display duty over the night. She gets a guest bedroom.”

“Yes, Mistress!” Rose turned but then hesitated. “Would Mistress like to see the dossiers of the other witch hunters?”

Dexter shook his head. “I may be developing an understanding for my great aunt's extracurricular activities, but that doesn't mean I am trying to take them over.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

As Rose hurried away, Dexter wondered if he had made a mistake. This time, as words echoed through his mind, it was not the voice of his mother, but of Vera. “The path to pervertness is paved with good intentions.” Not that he had ever heard her say these words, but he reasoned this was something she might say.

---

Chapter 8

---

Dexter stretched his limbs, while the last rays of sunshine cast the room in twilight. It had been another productive day. The worst of the backlog of community ailments has been worked off. Between Vera's poor judgment - and consequent coma - and Dexter's arrival, quite a few regulars had to wait. Then, with Dexter in residence, it was like a flood wave. One thankfully braved and overcome. Now, it might be smooth sailing. 

Rose slipped into the room. This time without a visitor. “Miss Álvarez had been the last one. With your permission, I'll go up and check on Lori, before preparing dinner.”

Dexter stood up and gave it one last good stretch. “Sounds good. Give Lori's butt a slap or two from me.” He had quickly learned that this gesture was more appreciated than a casual “How is it going?” or just having Rose say “Hi” for him. Dexter wasn't entirely comfortable with spanking Lori himself but ordering Rose to do it put a separation to the act that made it sort of okay.

A few moments later - after tidying up the consultation room - Dexter left the little visitor area and then hesitated. There was maybe an hour until dinner. What to do? Such a large mansion and most rooms were dedicated to activities Dexter wasn't up to. At least, not alone, if he was honest. 

The library it was. His grimoire - he was still amazed that he now had his own - could need a few more spells. So far, he had copied some from his sister Alexis - make-up and hair growth the most important - and the spell from Vera's library for breast growth and shrinking. Rounded off with a few general utility spells. It was time to add a few spells related to his own interests. 

The front door slammed open just as Dexter had put the foot on the first step of the grand staircase. 

“Adriana! The rumors are true! You are back!”

A cold shudder went through Dexter. He knew that voice. Had grown up with it. Slowly, he turned around as frantic steps came closer. “Uff!” The air left him as his sister Alexis hugged him tightly. He didn't remember her being so clingy. 

“You won't believe what they did. My own best friend. Betrayed! How could she? I am so glad you are back, Adriana. I -”

Abruptly, Alexis let go of her bear hug. Staring at Dexter's breast. “Did you hit a growth spurt?” Then she looked up. Right into Dexter's face. Seconds passed. Then her eyes grew wide. “You aren't Adriana. Wait! Dex-”

“Shh!” Dexter was quick to cut her off by putting his hand on her mouth. “Not here. Come.”

“But-” Alexis started as soon as Dexter let go of his hand. 

“By our family's honor!” He only raised his voice a little, but the urgency came through. Quieter he repeated: “Not here. We could be overheard.”

He practically dragged her behind him. Too stunned to protest further. At least, for now. They needed a place to talk. Somewhere shielded against magical eavesdropping. Vera's bedroom fit the bill, but then Dexter had to lead Alexis past one bound and mounted Lori Boone. He was in no mood to explain the chandelier girl to his sister.

The spell library it was. It was somewhat shielded and all the spellbooks added magical auras to the mix that made it harder for magical means to spy on them. 

“What is going on?” Alexis demanded to know the moment the library doors were closed. “Mom said you're helping out on some farm or whatnot. Why are you dressed like Adriana?”

“It is complicated. Let me explain,” he quickly added before Alexis could speak up again. “You know how great aunt Vera is a little eccentric?”

“You mean a perv,” she corrected him. “Everyone knows that.”

“There is no way to say it better. Vera fucked herself into a coma with the help of an Incubus.”

“Oh!” Several seconds passed as Alexis stomached the news. “Then why-”

“Mom had no choice but to ask me to do a little charade. We need to hold all the witch huts we have by a Hawthorne. But Adriana is still in China and we couldn't reach her. But no one else knows it. Lacking alternatives, I had to pretend to be her.”

Oh, no. Dexter knew that frown. 

“But I could've helped out. Why didn't Mom ask me?”

“Because we want to keep it as under the radar as possible.” Of course, this wouldn't suffice. “Everyone knows soon or later Adriana will take over for great aunt Vera. It makes sense for her to be here as a temporary replacement. Hence me. And no, it couldn't be you. For one, you aren't an adult yet. No, it does not count that in a few months you will be. Besides, there is still school. People would notice your absence and the rumor will reach our rivals.”

Dexter expected further protests. Instead, he got angry tears. “You are right! Stupid traitor would snitch me out!”

“What?” Clearly Dexter had missed something. 

Alexis tried to wipe away her tears, but they were immediately replaced. “You know Becky, right?”

Alexis BFF? Inseparable since their tween years. Or as Dexter referred to her: the devil's right hand. Not that Becky was bad. But she was under the influence of Alexis. “Hard to not know her. I don't know how often you pestered Mom to allow her to sleep over.”

Ashamed, Alexis looked away. “I always thought Mom was paranoid with her no-sleep-over rule. ‘Everyone could be a spy, Alexis.’ Becky really is one. I've been such a fool.”

It sounded serious to Dexter. But then again, this was Alexis. Prone to dramatize a little. “So, from a scale of wanting to wear to the same prom dress to-”

“This is serious, Dexter!” On his urging, she continued quieter. “She is an Ashland! Right under my nose. All these years. And no, I am not making that up. Someone working for Mom found out. A private detective. Her parents aren't even her parents. She is just some cuckoo's child that invaded their nest. Who knows! Becky might not even be her name.”

Now it was Dexter's turn to fall silent and ponder the news. “They're really everywhere these days,” he said sotto voce.

“What do you mean?”

“An Ashland is sniffing around Silver Creek too.” It made Dexter frown. For a moment, at the Neptune Festival, he had lowered his guard. At that time, Selina hadn't appeared so bad. Finally showing some humanity. But it must have been an act to lure him in. Even Rose had seen it. Why didn’t he? “She goes by Selina. Sneaks around since my arrival. I always have to watch out.”

“Those Ashlands!” New tears flowed down Alexis’ cheek. But her voice was colored by anger and her hands clenched into fists. “Despicable! I trusted her. I even-” Red rimmed eyes looked up at Dexter. “I thought we had something. I was so close to asking her out for prom. And more. I wanted to date her. Maybe even marry. Not as a first wife. Her being not a witch. Oh, Goddess, but she is, right? This is so fucked up.”

Dexter reached out and took his sister's hand. There wasn't anything he could say beyond empty words. And he felt it too. The anger rising within him. So far, the rivalry between the Hawthorne and the Ashlands has been tales. True, yes, but they had a degree of separation. They happened before. Hadn't affected him personally. Even with Selina it had been more theoretical and a game of cat and mouse. But this was personal. An Ashland had hurt his sister. Dexter wouldn't forget that.

Alexis scooted over. Leaning on him for comfort as she let her tears flow. He never had seen his sister this vulnerable. It made his blood boil. But right now, she didn't need second hand anger. Alexis needed someone to be here for her. And with Adriana gone, this was the least he could do.

A few minutes later, Alexis let out a choked laugh. “You know, Adriana isn't that big.”

Of course, Alexis had to notice. Leaning on his shoulder, she had a very close-up view of Dexter's new assets. 

“I know.” Dexter gave a soft sigh. “Wanted to show up Selina. The Ashland snooping around here. And for now, I am stuck with my rash decision.”

“Well, fuck those Ashlands!” Alexis got up and wiped away shed tears and snot. “Don't you give them an inch, Dex. I mean it.”

“I will,” he promised. Of course, he would. The family name was on the line. And now, it was personal for sure. “You know I will.”

For a moment, Alexis looked determined. Then she deflated. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course.” Dexter got up and headed for the door. “I let the maid know.”

“You've got a maid?”

Dexter didn't answer as said maid was already close. Finding her outside of the library. Waiting patiently with hands crossed over her apron. It was clear she hadn't eavesdropped, as Rose stood a good distance away. Close enough to be available, but clearly far enough to assure privacy.

Rose curtsied. “Will your guest stay the night, Miss?”

“Yes, my cousin will stay the night.” Dexter was about to turn back when he thought better of it. “And please take Miss Boone down early tonight.”

“I understand.” Another curtsy and Rose headed off. 

Dexter suppressed a sigh. What he privately feared the most had come to pass. Alexis knew his secret. But instead of teasing, he now knew she was fully on board. Of course, he later had to mirror-call his mother and make sure she knew Alexis was safe. But that still had some time. For now, his duty was to be a big brother. Even if he didn't look like it at the moment.

---

It was late. Selina looked down with disdain at the city from her apartment. She really preferred the little cottage she had rented in Silver Creek. It was much nicer than the concrete jungle before her. 

Turning around, she saw what was left from the evening's festivities. A table for two and a home cooked meal. Her's was barely touched. But Selina did pour the last bit of wine and downed it. She had earned it. 

Cleaning up could wait for tomorrow. Right now, she only wanted to remove her make-up and crawl in bed. But stepping in front of the mirror was a mistake. Frost appeared at the edges and a moment later, her reflection was replaced by the one of her great grandmother.

“Report!” the old crone demanded. Pleasantries be damned.

“I am making progress,” Selina started.

“Progress? You ought to have a baby within your womb by now! Get married and knocked up. Is that too much to ask? Get to it! My patience is running thin. You should know what happens to Ashlands who fail.”

And just like that, the coven leader of the Ashland family was gone. The frost retreated, but Selina was still shivering. She clutched the basin with her hands tightly and stared at her reflection. It looked tired. 

“Time is running out.” No more playing nice. Selina had to get to the bottom of the Silver Creek mystery. Who was the imposter and where was the real Adriana Hawthorne? It was time to demand answers. Because if not, she would die like any Ashland. And sooner than she was comfortable with.

---

Chapter 9

---

Dexter enjoyed the last minutes of breakfast. Sipping on tea and being grateful for the momentary peace and quiet. Rose and Lori had already left the table. The latter probably put up as art already. There was no hurry on his part. It was the weekend. No clients. He could relax. 

A short dark cloud flitted over his good mood. Alexis stayed two days. Only leaving yesterday. Just the thought of the betrayal his sister had suffered renewed his anger. But there was nothing he could do right now. Their mother agreed he was still best placed here. Together, they had come up with a plan for Alexis too. Becky was to be ignored. To not let the Ashlands know how deep the betrayal had hurt. It wasn't much, but it gave Alexis a mission. One that hopefully helped her to move on.

The ringing of the doorbell broke Dexter's musings. Time to wrap up his breakfast. Surely Rose would answer the door and whatever new development was coming, Dexter had to be ready. Three quick sips and the tea was gone. A few brushes with his hand and the last crumbs were gone from his robe. 

Just as Dexter left the dining room, the doorbell rang again. This time angrier as whoever rang lost patience. Where was Rose? Still on the upper floors dealing with Lori? With a sigh, Dexter made for the front door. 

The moment he opened the door, Dexter was ready to slam it close, but the visitor was faster. Selina pushed inside. Shoulder checking Dexter while getting inside.

“You! How dare you!” Dexter's anger had returned in full force. Further inflated by this rude behavior. “I didn't invite you in. Get out. Ashlands aren't welcome here anymore.”

Pointedly, Selina ignored him. Storming into the lobby and only turning around as she had a good distance to Dexter.

“Enough!” Her voice bellowed with as much intensity as Dexter's. “This farce has come to an end. I don't have time to play games anymore. Where is Adriana Hawthorne? Because you aren't her.”

So, Selina wanted a confrontation. That suited Dexter's temper just fine. It was about time someone put those Ashlands in their place and he was glad it was him who got the chance. But maybe she wanted him to be angry. To make mistakes. Fine. The first round would be fought with words. And if Selina didn't get the hint, Dexter could always back up his arguments with magic.

“Of course, I am Adriana! Who else would I be?” Dexter took a position opposite of her in the lobby. Ready to strike if it was needed. “Who are you to make such outrageous claims?”

“You? You are nothing but an imposter.” Selina let out a short humorless laugh. Never taking her eyes off Dexter. “I bet you aren't even a Hawthorne!”

There it was. His deception laid bare. But not quite. If Selina thought he wasn't a Hawthorne, she didn't think he was Dexter either. Maybe he could use that. 

“Petty little words from a petty little family.” For a moment, Dexter contemplated sneering and spitting on the floor. Then again, this was his lobby and why would he deface it? He opted for a cocky raising of his head instead. “I am a Hawthorne. What proof do you have otherwise?”

“Proof? You don't even act like Adriana.” This wasn't much evidence and Selina fixed him with a dark glare. As it turned out, to gather her thoughts. “I know Adriana. How could I not? Granted, your face is a lot like her. I would have thought you'd be a Hawthorne, but I did my homework. All women of the Hawthorne family are accounted for. No, you ain't. That leaves make-up and magic. And what were you thinking blowing your chest up like that? Nice to look at, but Adriana isn't as large. But there is one thing you didn't count on, imposter. I know you ain't her, because I would recognize my own fiancé. And she would recognize me too!”

All blood drained from Dexter's face. This outrageous lie had him reeling from shock. But not for long. The anger returned and subconsciously, red sparks started to zip between his fingers. 

“You have overplayed your hand,” Dexter growled. “No Hawthorne would ever voluntarily marry into the Ashland family.”

Selina gave another humorless laugh. This one bitter and bordering on hysteria. “Of course, not! I was to marry into the Hawthorne coven. Believe it or not, I am desperate. My time is running out. I was so glad when Adriana agreed. It ain't love. We both know that. But it was a way for us both to flick a middle finger to my family. Heck, if Adriana hadn't agreed, I would have even married a Hawthorne man. Maybe that son of the coven leader, Dexter. He's cute, for a guy.”

As much as Dexter wanted to blast her with pure magic, he paused. And not just because she called him cute. In a twisted sort of way, it made sense. If an Ashland wanted to defect, who better to run to than the rival family? But all of this was news to him. This couldn't be. But if it was, it would explain Selina's behavior. Downright to the start. If she told the truth, she had known from the beginning that Dexter wasn't who he claimed to be. It was time to poke holes into Selina's story.

“If that was true, I would have known.” Dexter tried to dispel the wild magic he had summoned and then placed his hand on his hips. “My coven leader would have told me.”

“And which coven would that be?” Selina immediately shot back. “Not Hawthorne.”

Dexter gave a humorless smile. “Pretend I am a Hawthorne and answer the question. Why wasn't I told about it?”

“Fine. I admit, the Hawthorne coven leader doesn't know about me. Yet. Vera knows. Adriana and her thought it would be best to wait until Adriana would return from China. With the knowledge she would return, she would rise in prestige within the Hawthorne coven. Giving her leeway when introducing me as her fiancé.” All laid out, Selina paused. Then a smile appeared on her face that made Dexter uneasy. She wasn't done yet. “But as I said, I am running out of time. My dreaded current family wants results I don't want to produce. With Adriana still gone, I need alternatives. Maybe it will be Dexter or another Hawthorne man after all. I am sure the Hawthorne leader would be just too glad to hear of an imposter pretending to be one of theirs. And they probably want to know what you have done with Vera too.”

Ashlands were liars. Good ones. But to this extent? Selina had a fine theory about him. Wrong, but it could still hurt him if she started spewing it around. It was time to do damage control, if nothing else. Another lie, but one closer to the truth. 

“Go ahead. Be my guest. But you won't get what you want.” Dexter forced himself to relax and then gave an elaborate bow. “Chandra Hawthorne is my name. It appears your homework is lacking. But don't be sad. That was the purpose. To raise a Hawthorne in secret. Right under everyone's nose. Just in case one was needed. Thanks for calling me cute. I appreciate it.”

Selina opened her mouth to retort but then fell silent. For the first time she really appeared speechless. Dexter enjoyed it while it lasted. “You are Dexter Hawthorne?” Selina finally managed. 

“Yes and no. I pretended to be Dexter Hawthorne.” With a small amount of magic and will, Dexter summoned his grimoire. From it, he withdrew a document. “I have my birth certificate right here. Signed and authenticated. I am a Hawthorne by blood.” Dexter put the certificate back and closed the grimoire. The lie, as close as it was to the truth, needed a bit more flourish. “I admit it is good to finally be myself. No more pretending. Say, these aren't too big, right?” He patted his breasts for emphasis. “I admit, I may have over-compensated.”

Seconds passed. Dexter had expected an immediate reaction. Either claiming he was lying or trying to poke holes in his story. Even a quick quip he could imagine coming from Selina. Instead, she was silent. Staring at him. 

When Selina finally spoke up, it was nothing he expected. “Can I marry you?”

Seconds passed. This time it was Dexter who was at a loss for words. This had to be a joke. But Selina looked dead serious. And she has stated as much. Her interest, according to her story, was to find sanctuary from her own family within the Hawthorne coven. Securing it by marriage. Having approached Adriana as the seemingly only option of viable female witches. That Selina had contemplated approaching him, as Dexter, next was flattering. 

For a moment, he entertained the thought of saying yes. Envisioning their time together. Sharing a bed brought a blush to his face. Researching spells together in the library might be cute and-

There it ended. He knew next to nothing of Selina. He had glimpses of her personality and zilch on her hobbies. Was that enough? Adriana might have settled for a trophy wife. Even more so, as Selina was an Ashland. A chance to humiliate the rival family. But did Dexter want to settle for a trophy wife or did he want to marry for love?

The loud echoing clicks of stilettos disrupted the silence. Rose's high-heels for sure. But instead of the usual measured steps, they sounded frantic. A moment later, Rose stopped at the entrance to the lobby. Giving a moment to judge the stand-off between Dexter and Selina. It only lasted a second and she rushed over to him. 

“There is a naked man in the cellar!” she blurted out. Loud enough for Selina to overhear. Dexter didn't mind, as he was glad for the distraction. More time to ponder an important question. “He is in the middle of some glowing circles and begging for help.”

Dexter had halfway crossed the distance to Rose, when his thoughts caught up. What man could survive two weeks in a cellar? With no food or water, surely any human would have perished. The glowing circles indicated a ritual or magical barrier. Maybe both. 

His eyes fell upon Selina. Whatever was down there, he could use back-up. Not to mention it would allow him to postpone the decision about marriage and get a better feeling for Selina. 

“Selina, I could use your help.”

The woman hoping to be an Ashland for not much longer hesitated for only a second. “That does sound strange. You can count on me.”

Dexter hoped it was true. “My great aunt is into a lot of strange stuff.”

“I know,” Selina commented as they made their way to the cellar entrance. “I have been here quite a few times while courting Adriana. She insisted on a number of unusual trust exercises.”

Dexter let that comment stand on its own. Best not to inquire. But his imagination provided a short vision of Selina naked and bound in hemp ropes. There was no time to indulge in this fantasy. Or to wonder why his mind started to introduce bondage to them. He had a hunch about who the prisoner was and it wouldn't do to underestimate them. 

Rose led them to the third cellar. Not the one for the maids or the root cellar, but the largest one that housed more of Vera's more depraved hobbies. Just a few days ago, Dexter had explored here but had abandoned it. Rose must have been more daring.

Or not, as they passed a trolley with cleaning supplies. The maid must have decided that even these parts of the mansion needed cleaning. The room they steered toward was at the end of a long hallway. There, Rose stopped at the door and waited. 

Just a quick peek, Dexter told himself. Just to confirm his suspicion. He glanced at Selina, who gave a nod. Together, they pushed into the room.

It was a ritual chamber drenched in darkness. Or rather black paint, as a large magical circle glowed in the middle. Dexter took a second and counted thirteen circles of runes. The seven from the edge glowed a soft pinkish red. The next three rings of runes were faded and flickering. As if parts of them had been damaged. The runes of the innermost loops laid dark and dormant. Having ceased their function. This wasn't good. It meant the entity in the center of it all was slowly eating away at the protective wards. 

The source of all the trouble was visible too. Smack in the middle of all runes was a bed made out of blackened wood and red silk linen. On it, the epitome of a man laid as if suffering. Naked, and oddly posed to highlight his junk. It was a nice cock, Dexter had to admit. Whether he wanted to or not. It looked perfect and gave Dexter shame for his own. It simply couldn't compare. 

“Help!” The figure stretched out a feeble hand towards them. “Food! Water! I haven't had any in so long.”

Instinctively, Dexter placed an arm before Rose, who had followed them in. He could feel the pull at the corner of his mind. But he was a witch and resistant to the whims of magical mind control. The maid had none. In hindsight, it was a mistake. 

“Let me help you!”

To Dexter's shock, it was not Rose who pushed forward, but Selina. Dexter was too late to stop her entering the warded area. He barely caught the hem of her sleeve and pulled her back. Confused, Selina turned around. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. “But we have to help him,” she insisted while Dexter dragged her further away.

“Mistress!” 

Dexter's eyes followed where Rose was pointing. There, the area Selina had stepped on, the runes had dimmed and started slowly to flicker. The wards had yet to fail, but it was only a matter of time. “Out!” Dexter tried to drag Selina out, who put up a good fight. “Rose, help me!”

“We can't just leave him like that,” Selina insisted. Until they were five meters out of the room and Dexter slapped her. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“That.” Dexter pointed to their barely escaped doom. “Was an Incubus. And he had you under his spell. I had to have you snap out of it. You have, have you? Snapped out of it?”

Selina made big eyes towards the room they just left. “Yes.” At once, she was dragged further along by Dexter. “What is an Incubus doing here?” Before either could answer, Selina gave a deep sigh that carried the name “Vera” on her breath. Then the realization hit. “Is that why Vera isn't here? Is she dead?”

“No. Later.” They had just arrived on the ground floor again, but Dexter knew they lived on borrowed time. “Rose! Get up and release Lori.” He turned to his rival and possibly fiancé. “I need your help, Selina. We need to reseal the Incubus or banish him outright. Do you know any spell to do so?”

Selina shook her head, but redefined her answer: “I know some, but I don't have any of them memorized. Or in my grimoire.”

“Me neither.” Dexter was on the move again. Followed by Selina. They were one flight up the stairs when he hesitated. “Not that direction,” he said as Selina rushed past him. “The other library.”

“There is a second library?”

“You don't know?” So, there were limits to how far Vera had trusted Selina. Dexter turned and walked in the other direction. “Vera has two. One for the normal stuff and one for naughty things. And this whole Incubus dilemma has naughty written all over it.”

The second library was, of course, larger. Not that it necessarily contained more books. Half the shelves were full of various sex toys and other naughty things. Even without looking for it, Dexter could see the commutative magical aura. These toys were by no means ordinary. What enchantments they had was something Dexter didn't want to find out. 

Selina made as big of eyes, as Dexter had the first time seeing this library “Are you sure this is the right place?” 

Instead of an answer, Dexter let out a string of curses. Then he pointed out one of the bookshelves. “Demonology here. Sex demons are these three rows. Of course, this one is tidy and sorted.”

“Yeah, the other is a nightmare.” Catching the look from Dexter, Selina was quick to correct. “I wasn't snooping. Adriana complained about it all the time.”

“Not important right now,” he reminded her. “Look for something to seal away a demon.”

They attacked the bookshelf with gusto. Not really caring that they made a mess. Deep inside, Dexter felt even a little satisfaction. Speed reading was never his strong suit, but now, he gave it his all. “This one needs a ritual ten witches strong.” The book landed on the heap of discarded options. 

“Do we have blessed water and dried snow lily?” As Dexter shook his head, Selina placed the book aside. 

“This might be an option,” Dexter proclaimed a minute - and two red herrings - later. “Temporarily transforms a demon into an incorporeal form and seals them in a vessel. A bottle. An urn. Something like that.”

“Are you sure that is for demons and not for djinn?”

Dexter pointed out a paragraph. “Same type of magic but adjusted for demons. All we need is normal spellbinding chalk and a fitting vessel.”

Just then, Rose and Lori burst into the room. “He is out,” the maid exclaimed. Slightly out of breath. “We heard him downstairs.”

“We are running out of time.” The comment by Selina was entirely superfluous. 

“Up! We can't go down, so we have to go up. In my bedroom, there is chalk I can use too.” Dexter ignored the pointed look by Selina. “Rose, we need a vessel. A large bottle or urn.”

“We have flower vases on the fourth floor,” Rose said just as they made it to the stairs. 

“It will have to do.” Then, Dexter saw a naked man stepping onto the lowest step of the stairs. “Go. Go. Go.” They rushed up the stairs and arrived panting on the fourth. “Rose. Lori. To my bedroom. Selina and I will ambush the demon here.”

Selina dumped one of the large flower vases - carpets be damned - and lugged it over to the top of the stairs. Meanwhile, Dexter rushed after Rose and Lori. Grabbing the piece of witching chalk he had left beside the mirror. As he rushed back, Dexter couldn't help to take a glance over the rail of the stairs. The demon was two flights of stairs below them. Taking his sweet time getting up. Not that Dexter minded. 

Book in hand, Dexter did his best to adapt and draw the required magic circle onto the vase. Easier said than done as the vase was large and tapered.  “Who casts the spell and who holds the vase?” Dexter asked as he was halfway done. 

Selina didn't hesitate to think about it. But delayed enough to show a grimace. “You are the stronger witch. It should be you who casts the spell.”

Dexter paused. “Wasn't easy to admit that, right?”

“Wipe that smirk off your face and focus.” 

They finished up with the chalk. Just in time as the Incubus had maybe a dozen steps left to take. After a few furious wordless gestures - there was no need to alert the demon to their plan - Dexter and Selina took positions. Dexter left from the stairs and Selina to the right. The Incubus would emerge between. Stepping right into their trap. 

And stepping into it, he did. With a cocky grin no less. “Ladies, no need for hostilities, can we just-” And then, the Incubus noticed Dexter. The book held up while reciting the incantation of the spell. Which formed in his other hand as pure raw magic. Realizing his mistake, he turned around to run. Only to spot Selina, who stood ready with the vase. It was large and heavy enough that she had to hold it against her body. Making it look like she was straddling the vase. But she held it ready. The opening she pointed at the demon. As if she could invite him to jump into the vessel by his own choice. 

Stepping into their trap was the demon's first mistake. Turning his back to Dexter was the second. He never saw the spell that Dexter flung at his back. It impacted right between the shoulder blades. The impact didn't last long and the result was something Dexter's brain refused to acknowledge at first. The bundle of magic didn't stop at the impact. Instead, drilling a hole into the Incubus. His body lost matter as it appeared to be turned into sand, which turned to mist, and was dragged into the spell that strained to move forward. 

The chest disintegrated first. Followed by the rest of the torso and then the head and limbs. It was over in seconds. Dexter was surprised as the spell - now swollen with Incubus essence - sped up again and raced on. Not so Selina, who deftly stepped to the side to position the large vase into the part of the spell. It impacted with the impromptu containment vessel and-

The vase shattered. Selina stumbled back as if punched into the groin. Dexter rushed to her side, only to look around wildly. The Incubus was nowhere in sight. Neither in his corporeal form or as mist dragged on by the spell. “Are you alright?” Dexter asked as he offered Selina a hand.

“I feel like someone punched me in the guts,” the witch admitted. A wince escaped her. “And I feel strange.”

A deep throaty laugh echoed around them. “Strange indeed. In all my centuries, I haven't experienced this. That is a rather interesting way to seal me away.”

Dexter turned around but could not spot the demon. With more bravado than he felt, he shouted: “Show yourself!”

“Gladly.” The demon sounded rather ominous. 

Selina let out a shrill startled squeak and clutched her hands to her groin. Stumbling a few steps back, her eyes grew huge as she looked at Dexter. Then, she hesitantly used her right hand to lift the waistband of her skirt away from her body. What she saw alarmed her even more and she let the waistband snap back. Maybe it was the building shock, but as she said “That asshole possessed my dick!”, it sounded rather wooden. 

“You have a penis?” For a moment, that thought struck him as strange. Three men were in the manor that tried to pass as a woman. Though he would never have guessed it from Selina. 

“Not a minute ago!” Selina lifted her waistband again and made sure she hadn't mistaken the sight before. “Fuck! Why do I have a dick?”

A throaty and deep chuckle emanated from Selina's groin. “I could tell you, but where is the fun in that?”

Oddly curious, Dexter couldn't help but take a step closer and look. Yes, it was a penis. Balls and all. It was a magnificent example too. Big and with girth, but not too large. Perfect for-

Dexter shook his head. Why would he care for a dick? Must be demonic magic. And that the demon could still influence his mind was worrying. “It's not possession.” Like a lewd tattoo, the sealing circles had been transferred to Selina's new genitalia. “He is sealed in there.”

“That doesn't make it better!” Selina started hyperventilating but recognized the symptoms herself. Holding up her hand to show she needed a moment to calm down. Then: “Why didn't the vase work?”

“Would have worked for a Succubus,” the demon threw in. His voice tinged with amusement. 

Dexter needed a moment to figure out the logic. How could the vase be more appropriate for a Succubus, but not for an Incubus? The epiphany came for them both at the same time. “Not phallic enough,” Dexter said simultaneously as Selina burst out: “It's got to be a dick.”

“You figured it out.” The demon sounded surprisingly proud. “I would clap, but that's a little difficult right now.”

Dexter exchanged a look with Selina, before he stated the obvious. “Back to the library.”

---

Chapter 10

---

“Work, damn it! Work!” Selina was cursing up a storm and Dexter had lost count how many times the witch had tried the last spell. It was one to give a man a vagina. And in doing so, remove the penis. It was a temporary spell unless cast by at least half a dozen witches. But it didn't need to be permanent. Just long enough to cast out the demon. 

“That tickles,” the demon chuckled. “Let's face it, sweetheart. You fucked up. But maybe the ninth time will do the trick.”

“Shut up, Steve!” both witches exclaimed at the same time. The demon wasn't really called Steve. The hell spawn had introduced himself by a rather long and hard to pronounce name. One promptly shortened to Steve. At first, because it was convenient. Now it was to spite the demon.

Selina let herself fall into the chair opposite Dexter. She looked as exhausted as he felt. “I think we both could use a break.” They had spent hours poring over spellbooks and hunting for a solution. There were a few promising leads. But just like the last one, they all failed. 

“Sounds like an excellent idea!” the demon agreed. Steve just couldn't keep his mouth shut. Despite not even having one right now. Which made the notion to gag him futile. “How about we go to town. Live a little. It is probably your first time having a dick, right little Miss witch? There are plenty of women to seduce. So, how about it? Now that you have me, you might as well use me.”

Selina gave a weary sigh. “He really is relentless, isn't he?”

“And exhausting,” Dexter threw in. 

As if she had a sixth sense, Rose pushed into the library with a small trolley. Neatly arranged on it were small finger sandwiches, a slice of pie, and a teapot. 

“You are a Saint,” Dexter complimented his maid. “Remind me to reward you later.” He couldn't help but notice the quick look Rose gave Selina. Or rather, her groin. “I am not sure Selina is up for a blowjob.” Mirth colored his voice, but he turned serious a moment later. “Besides. We don't want to reward Steve.”

“I mean, I BJ would be fine,” Steve remarked before either Selina or Rose could. “But come on, don't you want to know how it feels to bed a fellow woman?”

Steve was good at playing devil's advocate. Dexter could see how Selina was about to protest but then saw as she at least contemplated the temptation. Her eyes caught Dexter's and then, she looked to Rose while blushing. 

“No. No!” The demon protested. “We have to go to town. These two don't have the right equipment. Granted, they look convincing from the outside, but-”

Selina had enough. “You are guys?” Then she shook her head. “No. Stop messing with my head Steve. I think I would have noticed. I mean. Wait. Is that why you weren't as affected by him? Because you both are guys? What are you? Chandra or Dexter?”

There it was. Out in the open. At first, Dexter was tempted to deny everything. But Selina looked so hurt. “Both? I mean, the birth certificate is real, but I was raised as Dexter and-” Dexter gave a sigh. “It is complicated.”

The tension was cut by Rose who simply shrugged. “I always said I was a female presenting man. Though the breasts are new.” As if there were any doubts about which breasts were in question, Rose cupped her own for emphasis. 

Selina was only distracted for a moment, before she fixed Dexter with a look again. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“In all fairness, you are an Ashland.” Dexter held up a hand to forestall any protest. “I am already extending more trust to you than might be wise. So far, all I have to the fact that you want to escape your family is your word. Trust has to be earned.”

Selina took a deep breath for a reply but then deflated. “That's fair, I guess. I just want to know, now, what I am marrying into. Man? Woman? Something in between. Granted, if you are even open to marrying me. Just to be clear, whatever you identify as, it is fine by me.”

“What matters is that you marry me, right?” Dexter was well aware that Selina's ambitions to marry into the Hawthorne family wasn't motivated by love. “You said your time is running out. What's your family up to that you don't want any part of?”

Selina stiffened, but then slowly found her words. “Trust has to be earned. Look, I am not privy to the intricate details of the Ashland coven. My mother- “ She came to a choking stop. Clearly trying to hold back tears. “She disappointed the coven and was punished. I bear her disgrace. To make up for it, the family wants me to marry this rich guy, Larry. Slimy old bastard. Multi-millionaire. In a few years, maybe even a billionaire. The coven could use the money, but Larry also has political ties. The Ashland matriarch wants me to get pregnant as soon as possible. Even if I wanted to, I don't have the right equipment anymore.” It might have sounded accusatory, but Selina had a defeated resigned tint to her voice. “The truth is, I am all in and there is no safety line anymore.”

In other words, Selina was desperate. If it was the truth. There were still doubts in Dexter's mind. Though they diminished further each minute. Either Selina was genuine about her predicament or Hollywood is missing out on her. Dexter admitted to himself he might be damned, because the longer he spent time with Selina, the more he liked her. 

“Alright. Tit for tat, right? I am-” A man. Except, not quite. The last few days had been an eye opener. And it made everything complicated. “Not sure anymore. Yes, I was born a boy. Grew up as Dexter. But the last few days gave me a new perspective. And to be honest, I don't mind being a woman.”

“Nearly,” the Demon corrected. “There are still some dangly bits.”

Of course, the demon had to barge in. “Socially, I fulfilled the role of a woman.”

“Now is your opportunity!” Steve was oddly excited. It put Dexter on edge. “You can find out how it feels to be a biological woman too. Selina has a spell for that. Don't you Selina? What's the harm? It is temporary. And wouldn't it be poetic justice? For him to become what he pretended to be? Look at him, Selina. He'll make an excellent woman. I guarantee it.”

“Selina, don't.” Under normal circumstances, Dexter might even be open to the notion. The last few days have been fun in their own way. Sure, there was a lot of stuff Dexter didn't yet get. An experiment like this could help him understand. But now was not the time. Especially since Steve wanted it. No doubt, the demon had a hidden motive. “Don't trust the demon. He-”

Dexter could already see that he had lost Selina. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. They had underestimated how much power the demon still had. Now Selina was once again under his sway. Worse, under the murmured encouragement of the demon, Selina started to gather mana. 

Dexter prepared a defensive spell, but it was too late. One moment he was - technically - a man. Next, nothing made sense anymore. He felt his groin change but had a hard time concentrating on it. Shocked, he had looked at Selina, and she blew away his mind with her beauty. She had been pretty before, but now Selina was just magnificent. A flush - a heat - raced through his body. His breathing became ragged. 

Selina looked at him as smitten as Dexter was. “Chandra.” The one word spoken nearly did him in. The way her lips moved. Just begging to be kissed. His name - now truer than ever before - spoken aloud by her melodic voice. 

He should hold back.

This was not right. 

And yet. 

---

 

Rose first raised an eyebrow. Then bit her lip. Moments ago, her mistress and the guest had a civil - and much needed - heart to heart. Then the demon interfered. There was a brief lull and now both witches tore at each other's clothes. Desperate to undress. And then, they started fucking. Right there in the reading room of the library. 

The maid contemplated separating the two. Clearly something was amiss. Yet Rose doubted it was possible. Slowly the maid inched out of the room. Maybe it was best to let this play out by itself. 

Like a good maid, Rose closed the door behind her. Then a pause. Hesitation. Such a situation didn't occur every day. A witch - a woman - with a newly acquired penis. In it a demon sealed. And her mistress. A man - she had suspected, but who was she to out others - who now was firmly on the side of women. Both new to their roles. And frantic at exploring it. To making it work. 

Slowly, Rose opened the door until there was a gap. Surely a little voyeurism wasn't bad. After all, it was a maid’s duty to ensure her mistress was safe and didn't hurt herself. The hand that snuck down and into her skirt was less than professional. Now Rose cursed her past self. She had insisted Mistress take the key to her cage. And now, the last of her remaining male was safely locked away. 

Her frustration was only increased by the view through the gap of the door. And yet, Rose couldn't look away.

---

Chapter 11

---

“Kites.”

Dexter lazily rolled over in his bed and looked at Selina. “Kites?”

“Yeah.” Selina gave him a silly smile. “I know. Not something anyone expects an Ashland to be into. When I was little, my magic teacher made me fly one to study the difference in magic pressure depending on heights. I kinda liked it. Bought my own - in secret - a few weeks later. And when I grew up, I started to craft my own. I have quite the collection in my cottage. What about you, Chandra?”

This was nice. It has been two days since the demon Steve sprang his trap. The first was a blur of needy lovemaking that still brought a blush to Dexter's face. It hadn't been helped that it started out in a library that contained a large collection of sex toys. At some time, they had relocated to the bedroom. Dexter had vague memories of Rose trying to get them drinking and eating between furious bouts of fornification. 

Then the drive faded away but didn't vanish completely. Like horny teenagers, Dexter and Selina had used every opportunity to go at each other again. It wasn't even Steve anymore that had to prompt them. The both of them had become lovers for real. Speaking of the devil, the demon had been curiously quiet the last half day.

“Chandra?”

Selina's repeated prompt just reminded Dexter that technically, he wasn't a him anymore. Chandra. He didn't mind her saying his name. Her name. She could be Chandra for Selina. Soon, the spell Selina had cast would fade away. In fact, she was surprised that Selina's spell had lasted this long. When it did, Chandra was half minded to renew it herself. 

“Witches, The Ascending,” Chandra replied before Selina could prompt her once more. 

“That card gathering game?” Selina looked like Chandra had committed minor heresy. Like calling the Goddess by a silly name. “They got so many things wrong about witches. Not to mention that the mana gathering aspect is totally off-target and silly.”

“I like the art.” Chandra felt the need to defend her hobby. Yes, she picked it up as a teenager, but she knew plenty of adults who played the game. “And yes, the magic system is totally made up. But it supports great game play.”

“The art is great.” Selina got a mischievous glint in her eyes. “In fact, you could cosplay as Kasaphia the Twice Scorned.”

Cosplay? That notion was absurd. Cosplaying as a witch was for women. And then Chandra reminded herself that she was one right now. But then, her mind picked up the real important detail. “Oh, I see how it is! Picking out one of the sexier witches, are we? Curious, as Kasaphia is one of the less known characters. And how does someone, who claims to be skeptical of the game, know her?”

Found out, Selina had the decency to blush. “I may have a starter deck or two myself. I like playing her. She is powerful.”

“Kasaphia isn't in any starter deck,” Chandra pointed out and got playfully cuffed by Selina in turn.

“If you have to know, I cherry picked a few cards to collect not for playing the game.”

Chandra rolled back leisurely and deliberately tried to act nonchalantly. “You have to show me them sometime. Maybe I do could make a cosplay. As a treat on our honeymoon.”

Selina was quick to pounce on it. And literally pounce on Chandra. “Really? Are you accepting my proposal?”

“Yes.” There was a squeal of delight that Chandra had to dampen a bit. “But first, I have to talk to my mother. This has ramifications beyond just the two of us.”

“I understand.” Selina leaned back and actually looked a bit frightened. “Your mother. Will she agree? Roslyn Hawthorne can be a scary woman. I don't wanna get on her bad side.”

“She is not that bad,” Chandra assured her new fiancé. “She can be fierce and protective. Especially when it comes to protecting our family. And once I explain, I think you'll soon belong to it.”

“I know. She is a force of nature.” There was more reverence in Selina's voice than Chandra had expected from a member of the Ashland family. “I sometimes watch C-Span,” Selina admitted quietly. “Your mother. She can dance with the best of them in congress. And she has this move. She lets her opponents build their case - attack her - and once they overextend themselves enough, Roslyn pulls the rugs. Reveals with a choice sentence or two that all their arguments are built on quicksand. If only I could pull off one stunt like that in my life, I'd be happy.”

“A tall order,” Chandra agreed. Her mother really was something. “But enough about that. I am kind of getting hungry.” Pulling her close for a kiss, Chandra's hand landed on Selina's backside. At once, she knew it had been a mistake, as Selina stiffened. She felt the scars of formerly burned skin under her fingertips until Selina slipped her grasp. “How did that happen?” Chandra asked softly. 

Selina was about to withdraw but then sighed. Giving a sad shake of her head. “I guess it is no use hiding it from you. It is a reminder from my family. They don't tolerate failure and I am already on the bad side of the matron's favor. Next time-”

Seconds passed, while Selina shed quiet tears. “I can't fail again. This is just a taste of what will happen if I do.” Selina gave Chandra a look. One full of sadness but also hope. “I have to marry you now. There is no way around it. Even if I wanted to go back to my coven's mission, there is no way I can get pregnant by that banker while I am sporting this dick.”

“Don't worry. I am sure my mother will see reason and give us her blessing.” Then Chandra couldn't help but get a bit mischievous. “And it is a nice dick, I must say. It scratches that itch nicely.”

Selina found enough in herself for a brave smile. “Yeah, you can't get enough of it, right? Lucky you. It appears it is ready for another round.”

“Absolutely not!” The bellow of the demon surprised them both. Steve had been oddly quiet this morning. Last night too. “You are worse than any lust demon I know. And I should know. I am one. Don't you ever grow tired?”

That got a shared chuckle from Chandra and Selina. “Isn't this what you wanted?” Ask the latter.

“Everything good is to be enjoyed in measure,” the demon shot back. He sounded pissed. “Yes, you overdid it. Even for me. I had my cake. Now you are trying to give me diabetes.”

Chandra's first instinct was to laugh it off. But then she got suspicious. “We won't unseal you.” Then she quickly turned to Selina. “Sorry, we can't yet.”

Selina placed her hand on Chandra's. “I understand.”

“Then don't!” Steve bellowed and ruined the moment too. “Just transfer me to another object.”

“Like the vase that shattered?” Selina had wisend up too. “It would be another opportunity for you to escape.”

“I can't even facepalm in this form,” Steve complained. He had a point. Being just a dick right now. “The vase would have been fine for a Succubus. But I am an Incubus. You need a phallic object. Is that so hard to understand?”

Chandra gathered a breath to reply but then paused. It actually made sense. Was the demon truthful or was he leading them towards another trap? “Is that why Selina grew a dick? Because-”

“Yes!” Steve's annoyance reached a Karen level. Too bad neither Chandra nor Selina had a manager on call. “Just grab a dildo. Any dildo. The more realistic, the better. Then transfer me over.”

Selina and Chandra exchanged a glance. It was the former that voiced their concern out loud. “Nice try. We'd have to undo the current seal to reseal you elsewhere. Giving you a chance to escape.”

Steve took pains to be extra slow when spelling out the next words. “Or you find one of those witches that excel in transferring over enchantments. Do I need to provide every little detail? Just get me out of this nymphomaniac.” 

Chandra and Selina exchanged a glance. “I could try that,” Chandra admitted. “The seal is an enchantment like any other. It is strong, but not overly complex.”

“Can we try? Please?” Selina asked. “For one, having a demon riding shotgun in my body isn't ideal. And I really would like my privacy restored.”

“Sure.” Chandra rolled off the bed and marched towards the walk-in closet. To her surprise, it was all tidied up. She could swear Selina and her had raided it multiple times in their furious lovemaking. Rose must have been busy. “Which one do you think is best?” she asked as Selina joined her. 

“Steve said, the more life-like the better.” 

Chandra wasn't sure if she should appreciate the collection of her great-aunt or be horrified. A whole cabinet was filled with dildos of all kinds of shapes and sizes. There were plenty of life-like if one ignored the size constraints. Surely, some of those were only included only for their shock value. Chandra doubted that the larger ones would fit any woman. They would be painfully big. 

One series of life-like silicone dildos were sorted by size. As if they were part of a training regimen. You start small and stop when it starts splitting your body in two. Chandra shuddered. Still, she made their selection. 

“I think I know the perfect vessel for Steve.” Chandra raised her hand towards the middle of the ascending dildos. Only to take a left turn and grab the furthest to the left. A dildo maybe five inches long. “Cute, right?”

“Sure is,” Selina agreed with a chuckle as she took the dildo from Chandra. Then held it before her groin. “What do you think, Steve?”

Both witches expected Steve to be angry, offended, and dismissive. But his voice was the most neutral they have heard so far. There wasn't even a hint of seductiveness, when he said level-headed:” I can work with that.”

Chandra exchanged a worried look with Selina but then shrugged. Steve was up to something. He was a demon after all. But she would rather have the demon inside an inanimate object than her fiancé. He had already demonstrated that he wasn't without means to influence them, while riding part of Selina's body. Getting him out of her was a priority. 

They relocated to the bed again. Chandra needed good access to Selina's junk. She could see that Selina was excited. Steve was erect. For a moment, she considered suggesting one last romp. But she expected the demon would have a snide comment. Selina and she weren't worse than a lust demon! She could control herself.

It took her a moment to stop seeing the dick in all its veiny glory and focus on the sealing enchantment. Part of it was visible to the naked eye and looked very much like a tattoo. Chandra involuntarily shuddered just thinking of how painful a penis tattoo must be. It wasn't too long ago that she had a penis, and it was only a matter of time until Selina's spell faded away and she would return to being Dexter. Regaining a dick in turn. 

It was different from lifting the tracking curse from Selina. The curse had been hidden and filigree. Their sealing spell was bold and strong. Clinging to Selina's body. Where the curse needed careful coaxing, this spell needed considerable strength just to pry away. As Chandra got a good grip on the seal, the tattoos on Selina's dick faded until nothing reminded of them. The penis was still there, but Chandra had no amount of concentration to spare for it. 

Slowly lifting the spell away, the markings of the tattoo revealed to be the surface portion of a three-dimensional cage. Within, there was a sucking wound in reality. Deepest black with a corona of dark red. It had, of course, the shape of a penis. Even Steve's infernal soul - or whatever substitute demons had - betrayed what he was all about. 

It was hard moving the spell and Steve. The seal itself weighed her down with a metaphysical pull. She also braced for Steve's inevitable betrayal and his attempt to break free. Inch by inch, she moved her hands over. She nearly was at the dildo. Surely now the demon would strike. Yet he allowed her to settle the spell over the adult toy. Sweat dripped from Chandra as she slowly anchored the demon and his cage onto the adult toy. 

Then it was done. Chandra's breath caught, she waited. Did she overlook anything? Was the demon secure? 

“Well done!” the demon suddenly boomed. “I couldn't have done it better. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, I could have done better. But it was a valiant effort.”

Chandra exchanged a worried glance with Selina. Then turned back to Steve the demonic dildo. “But the seal held. You should still be trapped.”

“I am!” The dildo held no face, but the voice alone evoked the image of a self-righteous grin. “Because I didn't try to break out. Not yet anyway.”

“Not yet?” Selina asked. 

“Of course, not,” Steve assured them. “I mean, let's face it. I am a demon. Any seal is temporary. My mere existence is corroding magic that binds me. Just a matter of time. Oh, don't worry your pretty little heads about it. I am not trying to break out. Believe it or not, this is new. It is fun!”

Chandra didn't trust a word the demon said. “Being stuck as a dildo is fun?”

“As a dildo? I don't know yet,” Steve admitted. “But in over two millennia, being reduced to a penis alone is kind of a new experience. Well, to a point. You know, just because one gets stiff again, doesn't mean you should make use of me again. Anyway, this silicone body should provide more durability. Enough until you get a coven together and banish me.”

Chandra was quick to point out: “We are not using you again.”

But Selina had different worries. “If you are in the dildo, why do I still have a cock between my legs?”

Now that Selina mentioned it, Chandra noticed that the additional appendage was still there. She had speculated it would turn back. Surely a demon wouldn't have the power rivaling a full coven. Which meant whatever magic had been used surely must be temporary. 

“Ah, I was expecting this might happen.” The amused tone vanished out of the demon's voice as Selina pounced and squeezed the demon, while cursing like a sailor. “I can explain. It is not my fault.”

“This better be good,” Selina growled as she let go. 

“It would have been temporary if you had transferred me to a dildo immediately. But you didn't. Leading to me sort of imprinting on you. Hence your inner self-image changed.”

“Oh, damn,” Chandra exclaimed. This explained everything. Each person had an inner self-image that actively pushed against magic that altered the body. This was the reason most spells that targeted the body were temporary. More so for witches as their bodies had a greater access to magic. That was why a ritual was needed for permanent changes. Not just to alter the body, but to change the inner self-image too.

“I am stuck like this?” Selina didn't sound half as upset as Chandra had expected. 

“Until a ritual-” Chandra and Steve said at the same time. But the witch continued. “Well, a ritual should still be able to override it. As should any of the temporary spells you tried before.”

“It should,” Selina said rather calmly. Chandra also noted that Selina didn't cast one of the spells right now. Maybe Selina wasn't as upset as she had acted just moments ago. Or maybe it was the thought that she didn't have agency of her own in the matter that had made her snap.

Now the only mystery was why Chandra hadn't turned back into Dexter yet. She hadn't been ridden by a demon. If one discounted a demon-possessed cock. The question was: Did she see herself more as Dexter or as Chandra? Well, being Chandra was fun. More than she had anticipated. Especially with Selina around. But had it overridden nearly two decades as a boy and then man? If she was honest, she didn't mind turning back into Dexter or staying as Chandra. Selina predominantly being a lesbian may tip the balance slightly over to remaining as Chandra. This was certainly something they should talk about. Privately. Without a demon overhearing them.

“Well, now that I can think clearly again-” Chandra hastily looked away from Selina's endowment. Least she provokes new brain fog.  “I need to place a mirror-call to my mother. There is a lot she needs to know.” She gently rested a hand on Selina's shoulder. “And I am sure she will welcome you into the family once she knows your reasons and the steps you have taken.”

Selina gave her a brilliant and grateful smile. “Thank you. Really. I mean it.” Then she hesitated. “I think I should get a few things from my place. No, I can't be running around naked all the time.” That got her a lecherous smile from Chandra and a playful pout. “I'd rather do it now, before my coven-” (“Soon to be former coven,” Chandra injected.) “Before they find out and make trouble. I won't take long.”

After Selina got dressed, they shared a long goodbye kiss. Then she hurried out.

“Ah, young love,” the demon remarked wistfully. 

Chandra bristled. “What does a demon know about young love?”

“More than you might think,” Steve remarked, but then remained silent. 

“Rose?” Chandra didn't even have to shout. In seconds, the maid stood at attention before her. “Find a place for this.” Handing over the demonic dildo to the maid. “I've got an important call to make.”

At once, the maid sprung to action. “I have an outfit ready for you.” She stopped. Looking back over her shoulder, she asked: “Or would you rather call while being naked?”

Chandra gave her a deadpan look. But she cherished the lividity. There was a lot she had to share with her mother. Going a bit further than just cross-dressing. Having encountered and temporarily subdued an Incubus. And not to forget: having earned a fiancé along the way. Certainly, it was a far cry from the promised easy and quiet job she had set out to do. How would her mother react? There was only one way to find out.

---

Chapter 12

---

Chandra felt like shit. 

Now, she was involuntary dry heaving. A moment ago, it spewed out of her. At least the nausea was slowly going back.

“I don't think pickles and vanilla ice cream was a good combination,” Rose remarked while holding Chandra's hair back. It was enough that Chandra's breakfast landed in the toilet. 

The miserable witch chose to remain silent. A few more deep breaths and then she slowly stood up. “I am fine now.” Her maid gave her a skeptical look. “Probably a stomach bug. And yes, pickles and vanilla ice cream might not go along traditionally. But it wasn't half bad. And it really hit the spot.”

After flushing and washing her hands, Chandra started to brush her teeth. She really needed to get that taste out. Of course, Rose was hovering nearby. 

“Have you considered that you are pregnant?” the maid bravely ventured forth.

Chandra nearly spewed out her toothpaste. “I would know if I was pregnant.”

Rose looked uncomfortable but didn't let go. “Those food cravings-”

“Is me eating my frustration,” Chandra snapped back. Then she felt guilty over it. Softer, she continued: “Food cravings don't start until at least a month into a pregnancy. And they only really kick in in the second trimester. And it has been what? Three days?”

Three days without Selina. Where was she? Selina never returned from the trip to her cottage. Chandra had called everyone. Her mother. The police. Hawthorne spies and private detectives scoured the country. Nothing. As if Selina had been swallowed up by the earth. Yesterday, her mother had indicated that maybe Selina had played her after all. But no, Chandra had faith in Selina. Her fiancé was loyal and probably in trouble. 

She was half minded to storm the Ashland compound and confront the old crone that led their coven. But her mother had argued against it. It would be a suicide run. And they didn't have proof. All that was left was to eat her frustration and hope her own coven could pick up Selina's trace. 

As Chandra rinsed out, the maid made another attempt. “And then there is your morning sickness.”

“It is a stomach bug,” Chandra repeated. “Look. Just like food cravings, morning sickness doesn't start immediately once one gets pregnant. It takes a few weeks to start. A month or two. And it doesn't occur for everyone. So, it can't be.”

“Are you sure?” Rose asked as they left the bathroom.

“I am a witch in residence,” Chandra said deadpan. “This is basic stuff. Guiding women through a pregnancy and counteracting side effects - like food cravings and morning sickness - are part of my duties. So, yes, I would know if I was pregnant.”

Muffled laughter made Chandra stop. “Was that Steve? Where is that little demon?”

Rose had stopped beside the human that was bound to mimic a statue. “Oh, I got Lori here to keep him warm.”

Chandra stepped closer. Indeed, a familiar looking dildo wriggled within Lori's privates. She appeared to enjoy it very much, but Chandra had to ask:” Did she consent to having a literal demon stuff into her ... nethers.”

The moaning Chandra received was a clear indicator, but Rose spoke over it. “Of course. I ask before every session and on every break.”

Perverts. This manor was full of perverts. And to her shame, Chandra couldn't really count herself out from it. She had done interesting things with Selina. Just the thought made Chandra flash with worry again. To distract herself, she motioned for Rose to remove the demonic sentient dildo.

“Freedom!” the demon bellowed.

Rose gave the glistening dildo in her hand a look. “Freedom my ass. You ask for this.”

“Well, your ass might be a nice ch-”

“Enough,” Chandra snapped. She really wasn't in the mood for it. Already feeling part of the queasiness returning to your stomach. “Why did you laugh just now? Something funny?”

“Oh, I just wanted to say.” The demon was nearly mumbling. Then burst out so loud Chandra and Rose winced. “CONGRATULATIONS! Oh, yes, my dear. You are one hundred percent pregnant. I made sure of that. You are welcome.”

Chandra's hand involuntarily switched to her stomach. “I am?” Then her mind caught up with it. “Fuck? I carry a demon spawn? This can't be good.”

“What? No. That is ridiculous. As if demons and humans could have children. Completely different species. That is just propaganda. I mean, seriously.” Then, after a brief pause, Steve revealed the most obvious conspiracy theory ever heard. “But guess who was balls deep into your pushy with a functioning dick? That's right! The nymphomaniac you call a fiancé.”

Chandra's head swam. Was she pregnant? That wasn’t something she had contemplated even with Rose's earlier theories. She was way too young for it. No, she wasn't even ready to be a mother. Just a few weeks ago if anything she had expected to be a father. A long way off too. This was all too much. Was her morning sickness real? And the food cravings were a bit strange too. But they were too early. 

Chandra gave the demon dildo a renewed glare. “Why is my body reacting as if I had been pregnant not just for a few days, but for weeks. Maybe even months.”

“Well-” Chandra didn't know a dildo could blush, but Steve managed it. “You see, I might be a demon, but I am a sucker for happy ends. And when you used me in the evenings - letting out your frustration about your absentee fiancé - I sort of helped along. Use me just a few more times and you'll really start to show. A nice round belly and-”

“You’ve got a pregnancy fetish!” Chandra cried out. “Happy end my ass. All this is just to get you off.”

“Technically, every time you use me, I get off,” the demon replied evenly. “We both do.”

Chandra closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Urgh, this is not something I need right now. Get that pervert out of my sight.”

“Done,” Rose said quicker than expected. Then again, the muffled chuckles by Steve and the renewed moaning by Lori clued Chandra in where exactly the dildo had been hidden again.

Annoyed, Chandra turned around. Curse this pregnant body, she was already hungry again. Even though she spewed her breakfast out a moment ago. 

“Rose, could you fix me a snack once you are done here?” Chandra didn't wait for a reply and headed down the stairs. Consultation wasn't until the afternoon, but she might as well prep the room. Everything to distract herself from the recent revelations. Not to mention her worry about Selina being missing.

“Adriana!” 

The shout surprised Chandra just as she arrived on the ground floor. An enthusiastic teen girl was marching straight for her. The clinical robe was a good giveaway who it was. The large witch hat sealed the deal. 

“Great Aunt Vera, I-”

“My, oh my, you have filled out!” Vera circled her and Chandra likened the experience to swimming in piranha infested waters. Then Vera stopped. “Wait. You aren't Adriana. Maybe Maple? How long was I knocked out for?”

“It’s Dexter,” Chandra corrected. Only to correct herself a moment later. “Well, Chandra now. Long story. It begins with you fucking a freaking lust demon. How could you?”

“Oh, Salvadore and I are old friends. Maybe I overdid it a little. Nothing to cry home about.” Vera waved her off. Apparently, Steve's original demon name wasn't pronounceable by anyone. Collecting nicknames along the way. “Chandra? I remember! That's what your mother wanted to call you if you were born a girl. And look at you. Taking after your mother anyway.” 

Immediately, Vera gave her a fierce hug. Only to step back and grope Chandra's chest - who slapped the offending hands away - ,while gushing. “Someone made up for all those years stuck as a boy, hmm? I approve. What a statement.”

Chandra needed a distraction and unluckily there was something pressing to do it. “Well, it started out with filling in for you. But we don't have time for accusations. Selina Ashland. Talk. Tell me everything you know about her.”

“Oh, you know about her?” Chandra answered only with an impatient quirk of her eyebrow. For once, Vera looked like she was off balance. “She came to me a few months ago. Maybe nearly a year? She said she wanted out. To marry into our family. I was skeptical at first. But I then introduced her to Adriana.”

“And I was here to impersonate Adriana to fill in for you,” Chandra clued her in. “Selina saw right through me. Given that she was her fiancé and all.” 

“Was?”

“With my mother's blessing - yes, she knows now about Selina - I proposed. She is my fiancé now.” Protectively, Chandra moved a hand to her belly. “And apparently the mother to my child.”

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“Thanks, but there is something I have to ask. Something important. “She swallowed heavily. Then Chandra asked the most painful question possible. “Selina has been missing for three days. You know her longer than I do. How likely is it that she fooled me? Fooled us? Is she spilling my secrets right now to the Ashland coven?”

For a moment, a heavy silence rested on the foyer. Then Vera shook her head emphatically. “No, believe me, I vetted her. More than one trust exercise. If I hadn't been one hundred percent confident in her, I wouldn't have introduced her to Adriana. She was desperate, Chandra. That is hard to fake. At least to someone with my experience in life.”

Relief made Chandra feel as if she lost a Boulder the size of a house from her back. Her mind also flashed images of Selina bound in ropes through her mind. 

“That’s good to hear.”

A new voice surprised them both and Chandra turned to see the one person she trusted the most. “Mom! What are you doing here?”

“I am afraid I'm bring bad news.” Roslyn Hawthorne was a hard woman on her best of days. Today, she might as well have been chiseled out of granite. “We found Selina. There is no better way to say this, Chandra, she has been kidnapped. Surveillance footage we found showed her being abducted by Ashland witches. We could trace back the van they used to the Ashland compound.”

Tears threatened to break free. It was all her fault. “I shouldn't have let Selina leave. I thought she would only step out for a moment. She might be dead by now.”

“No. No. Hush. Not all hope is lost.” Roslyn embraced her daughter until the worst of her fears had settled down. “There is hope. More bad news, but there is hope.”

“What else is there?” Vera asked. “Can't that wait?”

Roslyn gave the much older woman - who gave her best impression of a concerned, but innocent teenager - a stern look. “Chandra is only here because someone messed up. I send her - back then as Dexter - to fill in for you. It was a grand ruse and no one was supposed to find out that we placed a man in charge of a witch’s residence. Ironically, that's exactly what that old Ashland crone is accusing us now.”

Chandra didn't trust her voice, but Vera was there to ask the obvious. “I don't see the good in it.”

“One, the whole accusation assumes that Chandra is Dexter. Which was true, but not anymore. We can use that.” Roslyn reached out to her daughter and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “The senate is gathering tomorrow to hear the accusation formally and vote on a verdict. It stands to reason that the Ashlands will keep Selina alive at least until then. She is the greatest source of information about you and if from what I glimpse of what you both say, she'll keep quiet. If only out of spite.”

“Mom, there is something else you should know.” Chandra took a deep breath. “Selina. She is the mother of my child. I am pregnant.”

At first, there was confusion on Roslyn's face. It quickly made way for happiness. “Oh, my. I am so happy for you. Don't worry. We will get Selina back. She now is family for sure.” But a moment later, she was already in control of herself. “Since when?”

Chandra took a breath to answer her but then stopped. Since when? “That is a good question.” For the first time, Chandra felt brave again. Even a small sharkish smirk threatened to break through. “I think I got a plan.” She twirled around and found exactly who she was looking for. Demure and quiet, Rose was standing nearby. “Fetch me Steve. Let's screw with time a little bit.”

“Who is Steve?” Vera asked, but Chandra ignored her.

“Here is the plan-”

---

Chapter 13

---

Chandra was slouching. Shuffling with lowered head into the grand room. Spectators might assume she was a condemned walking to the gallows. Oh, but there was still fight in her. She just had to keep it hidden. Among other things.

But it was awe inspiring. This hall was where the powerful gathered. Senators and witches alike. Often, she saw this very room on C-Span. Packed full of people and debates. But today, only a third of the seats were occupied. Every senator had been kicked out. This was a witch only event. 

Beside her walked her mother. Roslyn walked as if she was born to walk these halls. Not a surprise with how long she had been the representative of the Hawthorne coven. 

Up ahead, at the table of the accuser, waited that hateful crone that led the Ashland coven. Chandra averted her gaze and Roslyn put an arm around her, while leading to the table of the accused. If everything went right, Roslyn would appear to console her cowed daughter. Or son in disguise as the Ashland matron would assume. Chandra had a really hard time to hide a smirk. 

That impulse vanished as her anger returned. Selina was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was an unknown Ashland who definitely had the family resemblance. But was Selina still alive? Vera and her mother were convinced she was. Chandra could only hope. Meanwhile, she had to stifle the urge to go over and wring that wretched the crone's neck. 

Sitting down, Chandra put on a brave face. This was only half an act. Witch trials weren't like normal court proceedings. There was no prosecutor or defendant. Instead, there was the accused and the accuser. The fate rested with a majority vote of all witches in attendance. Helmed not by a judge, but by seven witches. Six today, as Chandra's mother part of the leading witch council, but accused alongside Chandra. 

“Everyone, settle down!” an usher shouted as nearly all witches had gathered. “Stand up, for the honorable witches Mildred Thorne, Agatha Holloway, -”

Silence settled over the assembly. Then, Mildred Thorne, spoke up: “We gathered here to settle a serious grievance. Matron Hester Ashland, state your accusation.”

The Ashland crone stood up and walked up front. With a wide sweeping gesture, she indicated that this was relevant to all. “Tradition. This is what witches held together, ever since the Salem trials and the witch uprising. Tradition is the glue that keeps the peace between witches and mortals. It is the very foundation that keeps us witches together.”

Hester Ashland took a breath and beheld her audience. “It is no secret that the Hawthorne coven can barely hold the witch huts they have. Then, a few weeks ago, Vera Hawthorne was hospitalized. And here, the deception starts.” She twirled around to point accusingly at Chandra's mother. “Roslyn Hawthorne sent a replacement. Mind you all, not her actual daughter, but her SON!” The last word was spat out with all the scorn the old crone could manage. Then it was Chandra's turn. “That is not Adriana Hawthorne, as he introduced himself to the residents of Silver Creek. Don't let the getup fool you. Before you is none other than Dexter Hawthorne himself.”

The Ashland paused to give room for quiet whispers to fill the hall. It was not broken by her, but the council leader Mildred Thorne. “I would be remiss to not point out that male witches are not against the law. Neither is it for one to hold residency in a witch hut.”

“That is correct,” Hester agreed with a gravitas as if Mildred had spoken some profound truth. “And if anyone would be liberal enough to put a male witch in residency, it would be the Hawthorne coven. But that is not what they did. They spat tradition in the face the moment they changed residency without formally notifying the council.”

Slowly, Roslyn Hawthorne stood up. Chandra could see the slightest twitch in Hester Ashland's stance. Her mother was known for giving political rivals a run for their money. To strike viciously and suddenly. “This tradition only applies for permanent changes of residency. My daughter here only filled in temporarily. Vera Hawthorne has been back in charge of her residency as of yesterday.”

Equally measured, Roslyn sat back down. This hadn't been a strike. Not a stinger or barb. For Roslyn this was oddly subdued. Hester Ashland smiled like a shark having taken up the scent of blood in the water.

“Maybe,” the Ashland continued. “But everyone bear in mind the extent of deception the Hawthorne coven has perpetuated. Even known, she tries to keep it up. Daughter. Your one daughter is at home. But your son has been missing for the last few weeks. Coincidentally, the exact timespan Vera Hawthorne stepped away from her residency.”

“AND-” the Ashland continued even as Roslyn was slowly rising again. “She not only sought to deceive us. No, the deception was spanned to the mundane world. If the residents of Silver Creek would have seen through it, the very foundation our society rests upon could have been shaken.”

Roslyn Hawthorne patiently waited her turn. Chandra was impressed. She wanted to storm up and shout in that bitch's face, but it was not the time yet. “I would ask kindly to refer to my daughter as such. These accusations are pointless, given that a simple ritual-”

“Your son went through no ritual,” Hester spat. “We have documented all rituals the Hawthorne coven has performed. Yes, even those you wanted to keep secret. Admit it, there had been no opportunity for you to make him a true witch. This is a farce that-”

To most people, the small gesture performed by Roslyn would have been overlooked. Chandra had waited for it impatiently. At once, she stood up and shouted: “Bullshit! Your accusations are a farce. All of this is a farce. You just want to distract from the real crime. Where is my fiancé? What did you do to her? Answer me you-”

Chandra let herself be wrangled down by Roslyn who played the concerned mother. The whole room was in uproar and council witch Thorne tried her best to reign in the pandemonium. Left on the floor was Hester Ashland, who honestly looked surprised. So, the detail of Selina's betrothal had not reached her ears. Chandra hoped that was good news. Either Selina had kept quiet, or Selina wasn't among the living anymore. 

As the room quieted down, Hester was quick to pull the strings of the discussion to her side. “I do not know what baseless accusations you son is spewing, but-”

“You are right.” Roslyn admitted loudly. The moment she pulled a document out, Chandra could see that the Ashland witch knew she had stepped into a trap and the snare was about to close. “There has been a deception going on. Far longer than anyone realizes. When my daughter was born, there was a considerable threat to her life. We decided to raise her openly, yet in secret. As a boy and later as a man. I present to you her birth certificate. Signed and witnessed by no less than three witches of covens other than Hawthorne.” She spared a glance for Hester. “As you see, we never needed a ritual in the first place.”

Chandra knew that this was a crucial moment. It could make or break their case. Hester knew she was backed into a corner and might strike out any moment. The big reveal was also not quite the truth and flimsy at best. Chandra knew all the loose ends one could pull to unravel their plan. 

Roslyn was about to step up to present the birth certificate, when Mildred waved her off. Another council member had her ear and was busy whispering into it. Then, Mildred focused her gaze on Chandra. “If you are not Dexter Hawthorne, then who are you, child?”

Chandra bit back the reply that she was an adult woman and tried to remain calm. Not that she managed or was expected to do so. “My name is Chandra Hawthorne, witch Thorne.”

The old witch nodded. “Witch Holloway just remarked on an observation. Would you please be so kind as to stand up, Miss Chandra Hawthorne?”

“Of course.” This time, as Chandra stood up, there was no slouching. In fact, she was pulling her shoulders back and straightened her back. New murmurs filled the hall and if Chandra hadn't been this worried and angered, she might have enjoyed it. Instead, she glared daggers at the Ashland matron. Daring her to reject Chandra's pregnancy out loud.

Agatha Holloway leaned forward and spoke up for the first time. “Oh, my. How far are you along?”

Chandra took a moment to formulate her response. “Anyone who would check, would probably agree that I just reached my second trimester.” Then she looked from Holloway to Ashland. “And perhaps it is best the council designates a trusted witch to confirm. It would be hard for a boy to fake a pregnancy, wouldn't it? Maybe we put that accusation to rest and concentrate on what is of real importance.”

“That fiancé of yours,” Mildred Thorne remarked with a raised eyebrow, while Agatha Holloway slipped her seat and was eager to lay a hand on Chandra's belly.

“This accusation is baseless!” Ashland hissed. “I do not know her fiancé.”

Their rival and accuser was dismissive, but Chandra noticed the small victory they had won. Even the Ashland matron now saw her as a woman.

Roslyn was not one to rest before the war was won. “You are unfamiliar with Selina Ashland?” She turned to the council again. “Miss Selina Ashland reached out nearly a year ago to Vera Hawthorne. Stating she wished to leave the Ashland coven as she didn't feel safe there anymore. She felt seeking shelter with the political rival of the Ashland coven was her best bet.”

“Twins!” Agatha Holloway shouted. Surprising everyone. She patted Chandra's arm. “You've got twins.”

Chandra managed a brittle smile. “I know.”

“Twelve and a half weeks,” Holloway proclaimed loudly as she returned to her seat. “I bet my favorite broom on it.”

Hester looked like she had sucked on a lemon and Mildred Thorne motioned for Chandra's mother to continue. 

“Originally, we strived for a marriage between Selina and my niece Adriana, but a chance encounter was all it took. One could say my daughter and Selina hit it off right from the start. I admit, the pregnancy was a surprise for me too. I blame young love for it.” Roslyn turned back to Hester. “Vera Hawthorne was not, in fact, hospitalized. She took a retreat in the woods to ask the spirits for the blessing of this union and for the unborn children.”

Now, fire found its way into Roslyn's voice and she slowly stepped closer. “Is it coincidence that mere hours after we made the betrothal of Selina and Chandra official, that Selina vanished? Not to be seen. Not to be reached. By magic or technology alike. We know she is at your compound. Do you deny that too?”

Hester Ashland was on the backfoot. Anger was evident. But she was not yet defeated. “No Ashland would marry a Hawthorne of her own choice. All these are lies. Selina is loyal. Whatever you think she agreed to, you are mistaken.”

Roslyn and Hester were only a handspan apart when Mildred Thorne stepped in. “Well, then, you should have no problem producing her. She can tell so herself.”

For a moment, Hester Ashland starred and bided her time. Then the defeat. “I will bring her tomorrow.”

“Council, please- “ Chandra started, but was held back by her own mother. 

“Given the severity of the situation, we must insist it will be today.” Roslyn turned to Ashland again. “And we require official confirmation that Selina is free of magical Influences before she takes the stand.”

It only took the council seconds to come to a decision. “Hester Ashland. Matron of the Ashland coven. You have four hours to produce one Selina Ashland.”

It was a win, Chandra told herself. Not all was won, but they were closer. But Roslyn wasn't done yet. “ASHLAND!” The name snapped through the murmurs of the gathered witches like the crack of a whip. “If Selina has an accident along the way, I swear to Gaia that I will come after you and your coven as if you had killed my own daughter. And I will make sure that your coven is stomped to the ground.”

---

Try as she might, Selina couldn't stop the tears. They fell to the ground where the Ash greedily drank them up. This was supposed to be the holiest place for the Ashlands. Sanctified land. What perversion it had become. She raised her head and took it all in. She kneeled nearly in the middle of the large clearing. Anyone passing might suspect the large tract of land had been burned down by wildfire. They didn't know better. Selina did. 

For days now, cruel cousins and aunts would march Selina down to this very spot. Not far from the burned down stump of a willow. The last resting place of her mother. The very spot of her execution. Right here, they brought her. It was a promise. Speak or end up like her. And every day Selina would look up at them with a challenge in her eyes. She would not betray the Hawthorne. Would not betray Chandra. If only she could see her one more time.

A hand appeared in her gaze. Arcane fire burning between the fingers. It belonged to her cousin Elspeth. “Are you sure you won't talk? The matron is at the senate right now. Your time is running out.”

Selina spat in her face. She didn't mind the backhanded slap that made her own head snap back. It had been worth it. But Elspeth had more in mind. She took Selina's chin and forced her head around. “Honest truth, keep quiet. I don't mind. In fact, I am looking forward to seeing your pretty face transmuted to wood. I want to be the one who burns you down to a stump. And I will dig out your roots and use them as cinder in my chimney. I will enjoy every second you are in agony and-”

“Sister!” 

Elspeth rant was interrupted as a mobile phone was handed to her. Dismissively, she pushed Selina to the ash covered ground, before taking it.

The talk was short. Then she yanked Selina to her knees again. “Lucky you. One more chance. We'll take a little drive. There will be a dog and pony show. Do well, and you just might get out alive.”

Selina was grabbed by the arms and heaved up. As they dragged her from the field, Selina's eyes fell for a last time on the burned-out husk of her mother's corpse. Just another stumped burned to cinders in a sea of likewise unfortunate witches.

---

Chapter 14

---

Despite the seriousness of her situation, a giggle threatened to escape Selina's throat. Just a few hours ago she had been sure to die a horrible death at the hands of her own coven. No, former coven. Try as they might tell her otherwise now, Selina had no loyalty left to give for the Ashland coven.

But here they were. Before the senate hall. Trying to apply make-up in the futile attempt to hide the days of torture. She wondered how well her black eye shone through the make-up. Selina was sure that not even the thickest lipstick could hide her split lip.

“Remember,” Elspeth hissed in her ear, as she grabbed her neck. “Don't you dare embarrass the coven. This is your last chance.”

Selina nearly laughed out loud. She was convinced that the matron had accused the Hawthorne coven with something. It must have gone badly. Else, Selina wouldn't be here. But was it really enough to win her own freedom in the process? She was half minded to ask for protection outright. Surely, the Ashland coven couldn't murder her in front of the gathered senate. 

Elspeth pushed her forward as a witch stepped out. Selina recognized her as Agatha Holloway for all the times she had watched C-Span. “Oh, look at you. What a sorry state you are in.”

At once, Agatha had her hands all over Selina. Inspecting every inch of her.

“No enchantments,” Elspeth growled. 

“Yes. Yes,” Holloway agreed. Then she took Selina's hand. “Come dear. They are waiting for you.”

Every mirth left Selina as she entered the senate hall. What happened? She had expected to see Chandra and her mother again. But why were they seated at the table of the accuser? Something must have gone wrong. Selina nearly stumbled. The matron. She must have twisted things. Making Selina out to be the villain. Somehow, Hester Ashland had turned Chandra against her.

Selina averted her eyes as she passed Chandra. Too great was her shame. Was this it? Back her into a corner so she had no choice left but to return to the Ashland coven?

Selina was led to a stand and she could feel the stare of all the witches on her. It was an oppressive atmosphere. Weighing heavily on her. 

“Selina Ashland, do you feel ready to testify?”

She needed a moment to parse the question. No other than Mildred Thorne had asked it and now looked expectantly at Selina. She gave a nod, but that was not enough. With a brittle voice, she answered: “Yes, council witch Thorne. I am.” Whatever this was, Selina wanted it to be over.

The matron stood up, but Roslyn Hawthorne was faster. “As accusers, we claim the right of questioning the witness first.” A nod from Mildred and a scornful look by Hester Ashland followed. As always, the Hawthorne leader kept her cool. “I give the floor to my daughter.”

Selina braced herself, but nothing could prepare her for the sight. Chandra looked fierce, but also unmistakably pregnant. What was going on? Weary, Selina watched her get closer. Then, Chandra broke out into a smile.

“My love,” she practically cooed. Then she reached out so she could take Selina's hand. “Don't worry. The twins are doing well.” Selina fought to keep the surprise from her face. Or the longing as Chandra retrieved her hand.

“Selina,” Chandra started. Now all business. Not unlike how her mother had dominated the senate floor time and time again. “For the record: Did you approach the Hawthorne coven with the goal of seeking shelter from the Ashland coven as you intended to leave said coven?”

“Yes,” Selina answered weakly, but then realized it wouldn't be enough. “It was nearly a year ago. Competition within the Ashland coven can be fierce. One has to be ruthless to succeed. And those who fail-”

“Slander!” Hester Ashland interrupted with a shout. “Clearly both of them are conspiring to paint the Ashland coven in the harshest light. Exaggerating facts into outright lies.”

Selina expected Chandra to take the bait, but she remained cool. “That remains for the assembly to decide,” she spoke aloud. Then she turned back to Selina again. “My love.” Two little words and Selina's heart was a flutter and filled with hope. “Please state who you approached and the first few months of contact.”

“After careful research, I had decided to approach Vera Hawthorne.”

“That old pervert probably seduced and brainwashed her!” Hester Ashland spoke out. 

“I would like to remind the council that Selina is my fiancé. Not Vera Hawthorne's.” Chandra briefly turned around to Hester Ashland. “And also that a member of the council confirmed she is without mental compulsion.” Before the Ashland matron could spew more vile accusations, Chandra turned back towards Selina, gave her a wink, and then addressed the council again. “Next, Hester Ashland will undoubtedly point out that some mental spells can create permanent change if applied long enough. Even when not active anymore.”

Selina was confused. Where was Chandra heading with this statement? Didn't she just concede a point to Hester and strengthened the position of the Ashland coven. Undermining Chandra's own position.

“My love.” Confused or not, Selina couldn't hear those words often enough that slipped over Chandra's lips. “Is it correct that in order to prove your sincerity of joining the Hawthorne coven, Vera Hawthorne put you through many trials? To prove your sincerity and to show that you are ready to leave the Ashland coven.”

Before Selina could answer, Hester Ashland once more interrupted by standing up and shouting: “None of this proves anything. There are no witnesses. They can just say anything. Furthermore, how does this disprove mental magic was applied in the past? There has yet to be shown concrete evidence.”

Chandra tipped her lips as in thought. Then she turned to Selina once more. “When we met, you were eager to prove your sincerity to me too. Going a step beyond what you showed my great aunt. Selina, is there any step or measurement you can point out that is hard evidence of how far you were willing to go?”

Selina tried her best to hide her confusion. Something was going on. Chandra's mother was famous for letting enemies talk themselves into a bind and then pulling the rug. It was one of the aspects that Selina admired about Roslyn Hawthorne. Was Chandra trying to do the same?

Then, Selina caught Chandra's movement. Her deliberate moving of her hand to her belly. “The twins are doing well,” had been one of the first things Chandra had said to her. Was Selina the second mother of them? Father, if one wanted to split hairs. How was this possible? Chandra looked like she was a few months along. Nothing made sense.

“Oh,” slipped past Selina's lips as it dawned on her. This one sound caught Hester Ashland off guard as she was just about to launch into another rant. For a moment, Selina saw fear in the matron's eyes. This was a rug pull. But not by Chandra. She had set everything up for Selina to do the deed. She fixed the matron with her gaze as she couldn't suppress a smile forming on her lips. “You mean the penis hanging between my legs?”

There was a heartbeat of silence and then pandemonium broke out. Witches weren't even trying to whisper as they loudly discussed the news.

Just as the cacophony ebbed away, Selina put more kindling into the fire. “As many of you know, daughters of the Ashland coven are sent out to seduce witches of other covens and abscond once they are pregnant. In order to show that this is not my intention, I deliberately took a step to ensure it couldn't happen. As for concrete evidence, I assure you, my evidence can get very hard.”

Selina couldn't tell which was more satisfying. Seeing Hester Ashland red with rage or the loss of words the matron fought with. She couldn't help it. Selina gave Chandra a big smile. “Best gift ever.”

---

Dread had filled Chandra as she first saw Selina walk into the hall. Despite the make-up, it was clear the witch had a few rough days behind her. Chandra had to fight the urge to walk over to Hester Ashland and throttle that old crone's throat. 

There was a plan, she had to remind herself. One not without risk, but the pay-off would be worth it.

A few minutes later, Chandra had her answer as she saw a brilliant smile on a witch battered, but not broken. 

“Best gift ever.”

Chandra was just about to speak up when another voice cut through the cacophony. “Everyone, calm down. Be quiet.” Despite being old, Mildred Thorne's voice had enough authority to settle over a hundred excited witches. She turned to Selina. “Thank you for your testimony. Your claim is noted and I seriously doubt anyone will challenge you on it.”

Mildred Thorne let her gaze roam over the witches as if daring them to challenge her verdict. Her act was not betrayed by a witch in the audience, but right beside her. “Oh, I haven't checked for that,” Agatha Holloway piped up and slipped out of her seat before anyone could stop her. Thankfully, she wasn't so crass to check by flipping Selina's skirt, but by using some kind of magic.

To everyone's surprise, Agatha let out a naughty giggle before turning to Chandra. “Oh, you are one lucky witch.” That got a blush out of Chandra, but the older witch wasn't quite done. “That’s one mighty tool you wield there, young one,” she said nonchalantly to Selina. Eliciting a second deeper blush, before returning to her seat.

Chandra's mother had warned her that no battle was without its sacrifices on both sides. But she hadn't expected that she would have to sacrifice some of her dignity like that.

Mortified, Chandra nearly missed Mildred's angry glare at Agatha as the older witch took her place. “With this detail confirmed, matron Ashland. The witness is open for questioning by you.”

Chandra had to remind herself not to flinch as she looked at the matron of the Ashland coven. The old crone was cooking with anger. Chandra, her mother, and Selina had swung big, but now it was the Ashlands turn. A cornered animal was at the most dangerous point. And the old crone looked like a tiger to be caged. Ready to bite off an arm. Her eyes darted between Chandra, Roslyn, Selina, and the council of witches. 

Hester Ashland stood up and Chandra braced herself. It was quiet. A pin drop would have been heard as for once all witches were quiet. Her mother had once said the calm before the storm could be more furious and dangerous than the storm itself. Chandra had never understood it until now. 

Then, Hester Ashland turned around and walked out of the hall. Chandra couldn't believe it. Expecting the old witch to twirl around any moment and spew more venom. But the old witch only used magic to slam the heavy doors open and left the hall without a word. 

Whispers started up as curious witches started to speculate. Not too loud as somehow everyone expected the Ashland matron to return at any moment. Chandra gave an unsure look to her mother, who signed for her to keep calm.

Cutting through the tension was the firm voice of Mildred Thorne. “I repeat: the witness can now be questioned by the side of the accused.”

Chandra was momentarily confused, but then spied the spooked young witch of the Ashland coven. The same witch who had led Selina into the room. She had sat behind the table of the accused and looked just as surprised as everyone that Hester Ashland had taken a hasty retreat. Her head on a swivel - looking to Mildred who stared her down and the door where she might hope her matron might return from - the young witch hesitantly made her way to the table of the accused. 

“The Ashland coven-” The witch looked ready to bolt out. Chandra might have felt sympathy if the witch hadn't been from the Ashland coven. “We chose to decline to question the witness.” She collapsed into the chair as if this one sentence had robbed her of all of the energy she had. 

“The witness may leave the stand.”

There was only a small hesitation before Selina stood up and rushed over. Their lips met and for a moment, everything was right in Chandra's world. All her worries fell away. She had Selina back. That was what matters.

But then a giggle broke out of Chandra and she had to break the kiss. “Your concrete evidence is poking me.” That got a blush out of Selina. Chandra only smiled wider. “I am indeed a lucky witch,” she said and drew Selina into another heartfelt kiss. 

The repeated - and growing in urgency - clearing of a throat finally cut through Chandra's single-minded focus and she reluctantly separated from Selina.

“Miss Ashland and Miss Hawthorne may take their seats,” Mildred Throne said to amused giggles and whispers of the audience. 

Chandra was ready to comply, when she heard her mother speak up. “I would like to remind the council that Selina is no longer part of the Ashland coven. And while no marriage ceremony has taken place - yet - the Hawthorne coven recognizes Selina as part of us.”

Mildred Throne - head council witch - gave a slight nod. Then: “May Miss Chandra Hawthorne and Miss Selina Hawthorne please take their seats so we can continue?”

Blushing, Chandra hurried to comply. Not letting go of Selina's hand, who had trouble following as she tried to blink away tears in vain. At the table of the accuser, she also took her mother's hand and gave it a squeeze. It meant a lot to her that she recognized Selina as their own, but not as much as it meant for Selina. Roslyn Hawthorne had to know that. 

“- have reviewed the evidence presented by the Hawthorne coven.” Chandra had to concentrate to return to the proceedings. Mildred Thorne had spoken up again and she had missed part of it. “In conjunction with the witness testimony we conclude the accusation of the Hawthorne coven against the Ashland coven to be valid. Selina Hawthorne had been kidnapped against her will and false accusations had been laid against the Hawthorne coven as distraction or misdirection.” 

A break. The silence was full of tension. Then Mildred Thorne spoke her verdict. “As reparations, the Ashland coven has to step back from two witch huts, which will fall into the control of the Hawthorne coven. To be taken as seats by them or of a coven of their choosing. So, we have spoken. This matter is concluded.”

And just like that, it was over. Chandra was free to draw her fiancé back into a tight hug. Part of her wished there was more. She wanted to make that old Ashland crone bleed. Two witch huts weren’t nearly enough for her satisfaction. But it was a win. And she had Selina. That was what counted.

Arm in arm, they left the senate building. The battle was won and Chandra had saved her princess from the dragon. But in a quiet moment, she saw the muted happiness from her mother. “What is it?”

“Hester.” Roslyn shook her head. “She knew she had lost. That she couldn't win. Not before the senate and the witch council. Be happy, you two. But we also have to be careful in the coming days. The next strike of the Ashland coven will not be out in the open. But not too soon. I suggest you celebrate your honeymoon early.”

Chandra reached for Selina and let her hand rest on her belly. “Let her come. Our family is stronger than her.”

The end.

---

Epilog - Adriana Peyton Hawthorne

---

Adriana let out a deep sigh.

“Everything alright, Miss?” her Uber driver asked.

“Yeah,” she pressed out. A little defeated. “Family, you know?”

“Ahh,” the driver gave as a comment. If only he knew.

She was here. Time to face her future. She had procrastinated enough at the monastery. It was time to return home and take up the responsibilities she had. 

Stepping out, she adjusted the red sash around her waist. At least, she had that as a badge of honor to present herself with. Grabbing her baggage, she looked at the large mansion before her. One day, she would take over this witch hut. Once her naughty and crazy great aunt would retire. 

Slowly, Adriana made her way to the front door. Would Selina be here? Adriana still had doubts about marrying an Ashland witch. Sure, she was sincere enough and was easy on the eyes. Not to mention that Vera had vouched for her. But Adriana had to admit to herself that there was no real chemistry between them. Not to mention that they still hadn't told Roslyn Hawthorne. The leader of her coven. Adriana wasn't looking forward to that discussion. Maybe that was why she had dreaded departing from the monastery for so long. 

A new maid opened the door for her. She looked Hispanic. And like a woman. But Adriana had learned to not judge maids Vera Hawthorne hired by how they appeared. 

“Greetings to the Silver Creek witch hut. Who may I introduce?”

Adriana squared her shoulders. It wouldn't do to appear as if she was walking to her own hanging. “I am Adriana Peyton Hawthorne.”

“Ah, the real one,” the maid replied nonchalantly. Not noticing Adriana's confused look. “Please come in. My name is Rose. I will take your baggage in a moment. Sadly, this household is currently understaffed and there is a lot to do. But I will announce you right away.”

The maid left a befuddled Adriana behind only to speak out after a few steps as a new person stepped into the lobby. “Ah, Miss Hawthorne. Miss Adriana Peyton Hawthorne has arrived.”

Adriana's confusion deepened. Who was that? Yes, she definitely was a Hawthorne by looks alone. In fact, for a moment Adriana thought her own reflection had come alive and stepped out of a mirror. But she had never seen this woman before. 

“Cousin!”

Adriana nearly took a step back as the strange woman - pregnant too - rushed over. “There you are. We were worried. Oh, you must be confused.” The strange witch made a small curtsy. “Chandra Hawthorne, cousin. But you know me as Dexter. A lot happened. I'll tell you. There is a lot you missed.”

A stunned Adriana was drawn into a hug, before she was let go. Then her cousin who definitely had been male and was somehow now a pregnant woman blushed deeply. “I am sorry. It is best if you hear it from me. I kinda stole your fiancé. Selina and I are getting married the week after next. I hope you are gonna be a bridesmaid.”

“Chandra?” 

Selina walked into the foyer only to spot Adriana. There was an awkward exchange of glances, before Adriana's ex-fiancé took a hasty retreat. 

“I know how this must look,” Chandra spoke up. “But I only stole your fiancé. I swear. Silver Creek is yours once Vera retires. Besides, Selina and I will be moving to the Mist Valley witch hut.”

For once, Adriana's mind could grab onto one confusing detail. “Mist Valley? Isn't that an Ashland witch hut?”

“Not anymore,” Chandra proclaimed proudly. “As I said, you missed a lot. There is so much to tell.”

“There she is!” Adriana twitched and nearly bolted as Vera Hawthorne stormed into the foyer and bee-lined to her for a tight hug. “Look at you. My, you look dashing in that red sash. So professional. But girl, you took your time. What gives? Oh, let me guess. You had an affair with one of the witches there. Naughty, naughty. I bet you learned a lot of tantric stuff and such. You have to tell me everything. Over tea? Come. Come.”

Just as fast as Vera had come, she stormed out again. And to her surprise, Adriana found herself alone in the foyer again. Minus her baggage as that had been whisked away by the maid already. Left alone with her confusion, Adriana was stunned. 

Then, something dripped onto the floor in front of Adriana. Joining a small puddle on the floor. Confused, Adriana looked up. Only to spot a bound woman hanging from the ceiling like a gosh darn chandelier. 

It elicited a choked laugh out of Adriana. It eased her tension a lot. Shaking her head, she said “at least some things stayed the same”.

---

Epilog - Alexis Hawthorne

---

It wasn't fair. Her brother - now sister - had the adventure of her life and Alexis was left to go to school. How mundane. Boring! While Chandra was moving into a witch hut and planning a wedding. What was left for Alexis? Going to school. That and seeing the one person that betrayed her every day.

Like right now. Becky - if that even is her name - sitting in the cafeteria as if she hadn't betrayed Alexis' friendship and trust. Goddess, at some point, Alexis even had contemplated marrying her. Even though Becky was mundane. Well, that had been a lie. Becky was a witch. Part of the Ashland coven no less. Unforgivable. 

But then, Alexis hesitated. In the last few days, she had spoken with Selina too. Maybe it wasn't as simple as Alexis had thought. Was Becky redeemable or was that just wishful thinking?

There was only one way to find out. Alexis turned and walked towards the table they used to share and was still used by Becky every day. 

“Alexis?”

Part of her enjoyed Becky's surprise. But she wasn't here for pettiness or revenge. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't even sure anymore if Becky deserved either.

“I give you five minutes to explain yourself.”

There was that moment of hope in Becky's eyes that nearly broke through the wall Alexis had built. She needed to be strong. 

Her former best friend hesitated. Fighting to get words out. The proper words. Her last chance to explain herself. To maybe salvage this friendship.

“I am an Ashland,” Becky finally admitted. 

“I know that,” Alexis counted. Maybe a bit cold, but her trust had been betrayed. It was not her who had to rebuild it.

“I didn't want to spy on you. You have to believe me.” Tears threatened to flow from Becky's eyes and Alexis had to fight to remain stoic and distant. “I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice. I told them as little as I could. Please, you have to understand, I had to do it.”

‘Don't show weakness,’ Alexis reminded herself. This could be an act. Becky was a spy after all. This could all be an act. Instead of reaching out, Alexis forced herself to sneer and spit out: “Right. Your parents made you do it.”

The hurt look Becky gave her nearly broke Alexis. “They aren't my real parents. The ones you know. My mother-” Becky broke off. Choking with sobs. “Do you know what they do to those who fail the Ashland coven?”

Alexis' stomach dropped. “Selina told me.”

“They made me watch. She died before my eyes. And then-” Becky fought to keep her sobs and tears back. It took a minute before she could continue. “I was next,” she quietly admitted next. “But then one of my aunts said she had an idea. That it was easy. All I had to do was go to this school and inform on someone. To spy on you. But I failed. And now-”

And now that the Ashland coven wasn't distracted anymore by Chandra they would come for Becky. They had to. The coven had lost face. And the matron. Chandra had told her about Hester Ashland. About the crone who ruled her coven with fear and tyranny. 

Alexis made up her mind. No, that wasn't true. She had made up her mind minutes ago. Maybe a part of her already knew when she had spoken with Chandra and Selina. She stood up and pulled Becky along with her.

“Where are we going?” Becky asked.

“Home,” Alexis simply said.

“What about school?”

Alexis twirled around. “I don't care. You know who I care about? You. And I won't let them burn you in some forsaken field. I won't. And my mom can help.”

The spontaneous hug from Becky nearly made them both fall over. As they separated, Alexis tried to play it cool. „And you know, if my sister can get an Ashland trophy wife, then so can I.”

“Really?” Becky's eyes were now full of hope. “I mean, yes. I'll be anything you want.” Then it dawned on Becky. “Wait, do I have to - you know - like Selina get something?”

“Between your legs?” Alexis gave it some mock thoughts. Playing 8t up. “Well, I might be convinced.”

“For?” Becky asked. “Or against?”

Alexis didn't miss a beat. “That’s for you to decide.”

A moment of contemplation. “I think I can ask Selina what to wear with, you know.”

Giggling and cheered up, both girls left school. 

They never witnessed the three black SUV's that crashed through the school's fence and the hired guns that swarmed out. Those were ten minutes too late.

---

Epilog - Vera Hawthorne and Rose

---

“So, you see, don't you?” the sentient dildo stuck on Vera Hawthorne’s desk asked. “It is not my fault you fucked yourself into a coma. In fact, I warned you, but you tied me up. And look, your grand - whatever she is - and her fiancé are for the better too. I heard they are expecting twins. So, I don't know why you would seek to punish me.”

“Well, you see, Salvador- “ Vera Hawthorne frowned. “Or is it Steve now? Which name do you prefer?”

“I would prefer my given name,” the trapped demon replied. “How many times I have to tell you my name is Strivensentar-”

“Steve it is,” Vera confirmed. “Kinda like it. Simple. And who said anything about punishment?” Vera turned to her new maid Rose, who stood patiently before Vera's desk. “Right?”

“You said we needed to talk about my future,” Steve cut in before the maid could voice her opinion. “And quite ominously I might add.”

“Oh, you are hearing things.” Vera turned to the maid again. “Rose, right? Is it true? Was he on his best behavior? Whatever that means for a demon.”

“Well-” The maid made a funny face. “He did try to seduce us in the beginning. Leading to the containment breach that he used to escape. Then he chased us through the manor. After resealed - as Miss Selina's loins - he used magic to have Miss Chandra and Miss Selina engage each other. Furiously.”

“I mean, can you blame me for that?” Steve asked. “I am a demon after all.”

Rose shrugged. “Once transferred to a dildo, he was a lot more manageable.”

“I did help out,” Steve added. “Helping Chandra along with her pregnancy. That turned out to be pretty important, right?”

Several seconds passed, before Vera declared her judgement. “I guess that was pretty tame and well behaved. For a demon.” A naughty little smile appeared on her face. “I might even reward you.”

A Sentient dildo couldn't flinch, but the tone of voice made it evident Steve was not up for that. “And fuck yourself into another coma? Pass. How about you gather your little witch family and banish me home? I mean, this has been fun. I've never been reduced to a penis before. Or a sex toy. Treated as such-” If a dildo could only give Vera a meaningful stare. “But never being one outright. Talk about experiencing something new after millennia of boredom. But really, I've had enough. Just send me home and we call it even?”

“Spoilsport,” Vera said and blew the demon a raspberry. For all accounts acting like an immature teenager instead of a witch who could be Rose's grandmother by age. “But fine. Once the dust has settled, I guess the Hawthorne coven can send you home by ritual. So, what's next?” The witch’s gaze homed in on the maid. “Derrick Gilbert, right?”

For a moment, Rose looked like she had eaten shoe-shine for breakfast. But she caught herself fast. “Yes, mistress. But I prefer Rose these days.”

A lazy smile appeared on Vera. “Ah, yes. Now I remember. You are one of Hyacinth Voss gurls. She likes flowers a bit too much, but each their own.” Rose was about to comment on it when Vera held up a finger. She leaned over and withdrew a folder from the bottom drawer of the desk. “Now, let's see. Age twenty-three. Given name unimportant. Goes by Rose. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda. Oh, this is interesting. Former cat burglar. There is a story, isn't there?”

Rose gave a shy nod and blushed deeply when Steve added:” Not a smart thing to do. Stealing from a witch. Even we demons know better.”

Vera was quick to dismiss it. “Water under the bridge. After all, Voss had you in her claws for a year, right? Surely that will have put your head on straight. But it remains curious. Normally, Hyci trains wannabe witch hunters.”

“She saw potential,” Rose volunteered, oddly muted. 

“We will see,” Vera remarked nonchalantly. “She sent you to me to be evaluated. Then again, it looks like you have already proven yourself to my grand-niece. Says you are loyal and discreet.”

Vera expected a boast or a comment at least, but Rose remained quiet. It was time to probe deeper. “Chandra wouldn't mind having you continue in her employment. Why didn't you move with her?”

“The deal was that I would serve this household for three months. To be evaluated.” Now, Rose sounded sure of herself again. “There is still over a month left and I will honor the deal. But I hope Miss Chandra will still take me when my time here is up.”

“Admirable.” A devious grin snuck onto Vera. “Tell me. My grand-nice didn't arrive here as such, but as my grand-nephew. It appears she successfully fooled the town. How long did it take you to catch on.”

“At my arrival.” Rose raised her hand to placate the witch. “I do not mean this as a boast. Given Lady Voss’ teachings and environment, I had the necessary background. Miss Chandra did an admirable job, but someone with my training was bound to see through her.”

“Why didn't you point it out?”

Rose answered without hesitation. “A maid’s job is to support. Not to tear down. I fulfilled my duties. And on a personal note, I am familiar with the strife Miss Chandra found herself fighting with. I wanted her to succeed.”

“I see what my grand-niece meant with loyal and discreet. This calls for a reward.” Vera moved her finger up and down and in turn, Rose bosom grew and shrank in volume. “But I see my grand-niece has beaten me to the punch. Such a nice enchantment. I forgot that I had this spell in my library.”

“Oh, don't stop,” the demon complained just as Vera did so. “That was rather amusing.”

“Damn, you gave me a fright.” Vera rolled her eyes in Rose's direction. “So easy to forget a demon when he is reduced to some phallic shaped silicone. But back to you. This rack on you is a nice start, but I agree with the assessment of my grand-niece. I think that deserves more. Any wish of yours I can fulfill. Be reminded that anything will be temporary without utilizing the coven for a ritual.”

Rose bit her lips while in thought, but then her gaze firmed up again. “This humble maid will leave the decision to you, Mistress. I am open to any reward or perhaps willing to test out other enchantments you would like to try.” Then, she cast a nervous glance at the demon dildo propped up on Vera's desk. “But I would prefer not having Steve between my legs if at all possible.”

“Oh, you don't want to have this majestic bait and tackle.” Then, Vera facepalmed herself playfully. “Right, you aren't Hyci's usual faire of tamed maids. Most of them still cling to their male members. Loudly suffering and bemoaning when it dwindles away in chastity. But secretly reveling in the humiliation.”

“No, Mistress, I am not,” Rose confirmed shyly. “I'd rather go the other way.”

“Oh!” The demon exclaimed. “Ssythrinxalyssandrexxa!”

“Bless you,” Vera replied automatically. 

“Ouch. Stop it, woman!” Steve exclaimed, before continuing with a murmured: “I told you I don't like those words time and time again.”

“What? I thought you sneezed.” 

“No. Don't you remember Ssythrinxalyssandrexxa?” A moment of awkward silence lasted until Steve exasperatedly volunteered more information. “My arch rival? The Succubus?”

“Oh, Sasha!” Vera exclaimed. “Haven't partied with her in ages. What's with her?”

“Well-” The demon stretched the one word like chewing gum. “The maid wants the opposite of an Incubus between her legs. And by all the infernal circles I'd love to see Ssythrinxalyssandrexxa trapped between the maids legs. That would be worth more than any other reward.”

In excitement, Vera stood up. “Brilliant idea!” 

Rose's eyes grew big. “I just meant I want to become a woman-”

“Oh, this will help heaps!” Vera promised, while plucking Steve from the desk. Then urging the maid along. “I mean, you will have the finest snatch a mortal can have. It might even become permanent. Without a ritual. To the summoning circle. Now this is a worthy experiment.” 

Rose swallowed hard as she was dragged along. Equal parts nervous and excited.

---

Epilog - Chandra and two naughty girls

---

Chandra wanted to laugh. So loud her belly would be aching. Instead, she gave her most disappointment and withering stare. The target was her wife, who stood before her like a caught naughty schoolgirl before the dean. She didn't dare look Chandra in the eyes and was beet red. 

The second woman in the room wanted nothing more to vanish into the background. Usually, she was good at it. But now, since Rose had finished her term of employment with Vera, the maid had a hard time to do so. Damn, she had a glow up, Chandra had to admit. Her vanishing would be ten times harder for the maid. Not to mention that she shared the withering stare Chandra bestowed Selina. 

“So, to summarize-” Chandra started and did her best to sound upset and disappointed. “You!” She pointed at the maid. “Were host to a Succubus between your legs for over a month. And now you are all needy and all the time desperate for a good fuck.”

The maid remained silent and red with embarrassment. 

“And my lovely wife.” She turned to Selina. “Who can't keep it in her pants because she had an Incubus riding her dick for a while. Granted, I am partly to blame for that. And normally, I am quite enough to satisfy your urges. But I guess me being over four months pregnant isn't doing it for you anymore.”

Just as Selina wanted to protest, Chandra continued. “And then you two just happen to get too close together and two demon amplified libido do the rest. You fucked like rabbits and now one of you is pregnant. Have I got this right?”

Both women nodded their heads like catholic schoolgirls caught with a porno magazine and now having weathered the head mistress’ wrath.

“This is a clusterfuck,” Chandra pointed out. “You both know that the Hawthorne coven can't shoulder another scandal right now. I have no choice-” Both women twitched and Chandra couldn't hold it in any longer. A laugh broke out. “Well, I guess I have no choice. To avoid a scandal, I have just the thing. Rose, we are getting married.”

Selina and Rose looked up in surprise. Chandra shrugged with a huge grin. “What? Oh, right. I am so saddened that I have to marry my own maid who returned to us after having a glow up that launched her beauty past model and pornstar to something better. How will I endure this suffering?”

“Y-you aren't mad?” Selina ventured hesitantly. 

“Oh, I will be quite mad!” Chandra confirmed. “If you both waste more time. Get over here and you both better show me how your demon boosted libido can satisfy mine.”

A little unsure, Selina and Rose were hesitant. Until Chandra urged them on. And as her wife and future wife made it up to her, Chandra was certain that she loved her growing family quite much. 

---

Epilog - Hester Ashland

---

Hester nearly sighed when someone knocked on the door to her office. Lately, she wished she could retire. But, no. Not while her coven was crumbling around her. Now was not the time to let go of the reins.

“What is it?” she snapped.

It was the muffled voice of her daughter that answered. “Another one needs punishment.”

Hester closed her eyes for a moment. Eight witches of the coven had abandoned them. Seeking protection in other covens. Six more Hester had delivered to her coven's ancestry lands. Now, a seventh beckoned. 

A last sigh and then Hester Ashland steeled herself. Standing up, every trace of weakness vanished. She would endure. To lead the coven back to glory. There was no time yet to rest. When she opened the door, her gaze was firm. “Where is she?”

Her daughter avoided her gaze. “She will be on the hallowed grounds by the time we arrive.”

Hester snorted dismissively and started to walk with purpose. A fine daughter she had. Couldn't even look into her eyes. No, Hester couldn't retire. Not with a daughter this weak. 

It was quite the walk. Leaving the grounds of the manor and its well cared for garden. Pushing through dense woodwork. Then, the trees gave way to a clearing devoid of color. Ash was under her shoes and Hester took a moment. Here her ancestors rested. The final resting place of every Ashland. 

Not far, a dozen witches of her coven had gathered. Dreading what was to come, Hester still firmly walked towards them. As the dozens noticed her, the ring opened and they all looked at her expectantly.

“So?” Hester snapped. “Where is she? The one who needs to be punished?”

“She has arrived,” her daughter said from behind her. 

Just as Hester was trying to turn around, she was shoved hard to the ground. Unbridled anger hissed out of her: “What’s the meaning of this?”

The dozen witches closed ranks around Hester and her own daughter walked before her. “This witch failed the coven,” she intoned.

Hester sneered. “Have you lost your mind?”

The witches started to chant and Hester knew there was no turning back. Her feet burst from her shoes and burrowed into the ground. Splitting and splitting again. 

“For years, yes,” her daughter agreed. “Too long I have turned my back to this madness. Looked away. Not anymore.”

Hester managed to stand up. Not that she could walk. Firmly rooted to the ground. She could feel the skin of her legs thickening. “I did what I had to do. For this coven.”

“For your own vanity!” her daughter screamed back. “Look around you, mother. This was our coven's hallowed ground. Here, we transformed our dead and committed them by fire to these lands. Until you corrupted our most sacred ritual.”

“It was necessary,” Hester insisted. 

“Necessary?” her daughter shouted. “Was is necessary? You burned my own daughters to the ground while I was away. Because you knew I wouldn't stand for it.”

“Oh, please,” Hester dismissed the rage. She could feel her legs fusing together. Turning from flesh to wood. It wouldn't be long now. She could feel her arms raise involuntarily. Stretching towards the sun. “You didn't have a spin on you. Even when you had been there. But good on you to finally witch up. You will see. Leading a coven is hard work. Compromises must be made.”

“The coven?” Spittle flew in Hester's face. Followed by historical laughter. “There will be no more coven. The Ashlands are done. We all agreed. This is the last ritual. We will disband this coven. Split what is left of the money and hope witchkind won't hunt us down.”

“No! You can't do this.” It grew hard for Hester to talk. She was losing her lungs. It won't be long now. “It will all be for nothing.”

“Better than keep this suffering going.”

“Then finish this!” Hester hissed as her last act. Then her face and chest turned to solid wood.

With malice, her daughter looked at Hester. She raised a hand and a sphere of fire appeared. Hester knew burning alive will not be pleasant. But it was the way of the Ashlands. She was done with this life. It was time to join her ancestors. 

“You wish!” her daughter sneered before closing her hand and dismissing the fire in a puff of smoke. “I know you. Beg the Goddess for mercy and hope she will send lightning to catch you aflame. For you will receive this mercy from none of us.”

And then, one by one, the witches left. Leaving Hester alone with her thoughts. And rage. Unable to move. To act. She had to witness as the old enchantments that kept these land pristine failed and new growths sprung from the burned down land.

Years passed by and Hester was left alone. Witnessing how the woods reclaimed this hallowed ground. And Hester prayed. For the Goddess to grant her mercy. For her enemies to fall. For an end to it all. 

And then, one day, movement caught her gaze. A group of travelers. Two adults and a gaggle of children. Scouts. On her coven's land. If only Hester still had enough agency to direct her magic.

“Look at the ground. You see it?” one adult asked the children.

“It's grey,” one spoke up.

“This clearing must have been caused by a forest fire,” the scout leader explained. “Maybe a decade ago or two. But see how new growth is all around us. Nature will hear the scare in its domain. And look over here.” He had spied Hester and walked closer. “This tree is taller than all the rest. It must have survived the forest fire. A small miracle.”

“It's creepy,” one child remarked. A young girl.

“Why is that?”

The girl pointed at Hester. “That looks like a tree.”

“Oh, like an old crone,” another boy agreed.

“It’s just gnarled wood,” the leader assured her. Then he took a better look and put his hands on his hip. “But I grant you that. It's quite unusual for a Hawthorne tree.”

Hawthorne? 

They remade her in a Hawthorne tree?

If Hester still had lungs her rage would have been heard for miles and for decades. Her rage knew no bounds, except for the wood that was her flesh.

---

Epilog - Daughters

---

Chandra closed her eyes and enjoyed the quiet. Not looking, she raised the cup of tea and enjoyed the smell, before taking a sip. Lazily, she opened her eyes and looked at her wives. They all have grown older in the past two decades, but they remained beautiful to Chandra. Maybe now more so than ever before.

For once, Rose had joined them at the breakfast table. You can marry a maid, but you can't expect a maid to stop being one. Chandra let out a small snicker. Selina, her beautiful and hard won trophy wife. Content to play the role in public. And Rose taking the demure role of a maid. No one knew how naughty those two could be behind doors. Or sparky. Especially Rose. 

But today, she wasn't served by Rose. Lily claimed that duty. Insisted on it, really. Chandra eyed her adopted daughter who stood nearby. She certainly had taken after Selina and Rose. The two who sired her. But it was her mother Rose, who was Lily's role-model. Evident by the maid uniform she wore for the past few years. And she made her mothers quite proud. Though Chandra was slightly disappointed that Lily didn't hone her magic more and step up as a witch. She was content to become a maid.

Taking another sip of her tea, Chandra had to agree that Lily followed her mother Rose's example in terms of skill. The breakfast was perfect. A welcome moment of relaxation and quiet since Chandra had taken over as coven leader. Those moments turned out to be rare. But something was amiss. Chandra couldn't quite put her finger on it. Lily looked nervous. Certainly, the last week she had tried her very best to be the maid that would make her mothers proud. Especially Rose. Maybe she was angling for a bit more recognition. Chandra vowed to speak to Rose, if she didn't act first. 

Loud stomping and shouting broke the quiet. “It was nice while it lasted,” Chandra remarked as her twin daughters ran down the stairs. Eliciting chuckles of mirth from her wives. 

“Mom!” both shouted at the same time and then gave each other stink eyes because they wanted to be first. Twins were supposed to be in sync, but the only thing they shared was the competition to outdo each other. Mirrored perfectly, they turned to Chandra and pointed at each other. “She cursed me!”

Chandra sighed. Of course, they thought out her. Not Selina or Rose, who were quite amused, but provided no help. While Chandra tried to keep her marriage one among equals, it often was her who made final rulings by quiet consent. 

Chandra cut off any further squabbling by raising a hand. Both twins fell silent. “My darling daughters Meave and Morrigan. What seems to be the problem?” Both drew in a breath at the same time and Chandra knew she made a mistake. Once again, her hand rose up. Mentally rolling the dice, she pointed at the left twin. “Mori, what happened?”

The right twin answer - Chandra mentally sighed as she once again and guessed wrong - by stepping forward first. “It's horrible. She made me grow something! Between my legs. It's-”

“No. No. No,” Meave exclaimed while pushing forward and her sister back. “Mori is lying. She made a penis grow between my legs.”

“I am not lying, you are!” Morrigan shot back.

“Girls!” The one shout by Chandra restored silence. But it didn't last long. A snicker broke through and Chandra turned to her wife Selina. “Don't you start.”

“What?” Selina asked. “It's quite obvious that their father left more behind than anticipated.”

“Father?” both twins exclaimed. “But you two are our birth mothers!” Meave continued. “That’s what you told us,” Morrigan picked up and for once both twins were on the same side. 

“Well, you see, your mother- “ Chandra pointed at Selina.” She has one too. Why does your mother have a penis? Well, for a time we sealed an Incubus - a male sex demon - within her loins. It left its mark. The demon assured us that nothing of him would be within you. Demons and humans not being compatible. And for years it looked like it. Guess we all were wrong. Surprise!”

Both twins looked doubtful at each other and then at their mothers. “So, this is normal?” Morrigan asked, while Meave wanted to know: “Are we stuck with it?”

“What really is normal in this family?” Chandra countered. Knowing this was unsatisfactory as an answer, she relented. “Don't worry. If you don't like it, we can have them removed at the next coven ritual meeting. Until then, I am afraid you have to get used to it. For now.”

Selina pushed up from her chair. “Come on girls. I better tell you about the birds and the bees. This time, from the other side.”

It was by random happenstance that Chandra noticed her daughter turned maid trying to leave the room quietly. “Lily?”

Said daughter looked up like a cat caught the moment before it could push a mug off a countertop. And within a moment, the young maid had the attention of everyone. 

Chandra beckoned her closer. “This might concern you too. Being a half year younger, this could also catch up with you.” Lily nodded but tried to avoid Chandra's gaze. A fact that made her immediately suspicious. “Unless there is something you would like to say?”

Lily gave her best deer-caught-in-the-headlights impression. Her hands nervously playing with her apron. “Perhaps, theoretically-”

“Theoretically?” Chandra dug deeper. 

“Suppose a young maiden is an early blossomer-” Lily ventured forth.

Chandra nodded sagely. “How early?”

Lilly tried to give a nonchalant shrug. “A few weeks ago.”

“And what would this maiden do when she blossomed early?” Chandra asked. “Theoretically speaking, of course.”

“She might have confided with the gardener's daughter,” Lily meekly admitted. “Instead of speaking with her mothers.”

Chandra had a feeling where this was going. “And I take it this maiden and the gardener's daughter might have experimented a little. Just some harmless fooling around.”

Lily nodded quickly.

“Lily.” Chandra waited until her daughter gathered her courage to look her into the eyes. “You better make an honest woman out of her. If she will take you.”

“She will. I will.” Words practically poured out of Lily's mouth. “I mean, yes. We both want it. We just didn't know how to bring it up. But we made plans and-”

“MEAVE! MORRIGAN!” Chandra's voice thundered through the house and both twins demurely stepped back into the room. It was evident that they failed to sneak out. Chandra fixed them with a glare. “I know you two. Knock that idea right out of your heads. This is not a matter to compete over. Whatever young woman is popular at the moment, you will not race to get that poor girl pregnant. Or anyone else for that matter. Have I made myself clear?”

Both twins dutifully nodded. “Come on,” Selina said. “Let's make sure you don't catch the ire of your mother again.” 

“Perhaps,” Chandra spoke up when only she, Rose, and Lily were left. “Would you like to introduce our future daughter-in-law to us?”

“Yes!” And gone she was. It appeared Lily was quite eager to do so.

Finally, it was quiet again. A moment later, Rose reached over and took Chandra's hand. “Daughters, am I right?”

Chandra gave a chuckle. “Yeah.” Then there was comfortable silence between them. “We are gonna be grandparents,” Chandra softly admitted aloud. 

“Yeah,” Rose agreed. “Might be nice to have someone young in the house again.”

Chandra gave out an involuntarily snort that was half a chuckle. “One? Are you sure? I give the twins less than a month.”

Rose sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

---

The End.

---