## Chapter 3 – Ancient Strings
Getting back to the apartment didn’t take long, but nonetheless it was almost midnight when Weiss turned the key to Therica’s front door and let himself in. In all the day’s excitement he hadn’t even thought about sleeping anytime soon, he had a nagging feeling that if he let the witch out of his sight for too long she would somehow slip free and he’d never see her again. At least until she tracked him down and brutally killed him. This was the longest he had been away from her since her capture and he was getting antsy, he had to retrieve whatever artefacts she had hidden here and return to the house at once. The apartment was a total mess after he had searched it up and down earlier, but it was silent, evidently Therica hadn’t stood anyone up for an evening tryst. No one had come looking for her yet. At any rate someone would notice that she was missing tomorrow and then they would come, this would have to be his last visit to the place.
A bit more prodding at Therica’s expense had managed to narrow the hiding place down to a corner of her bedroom. Weiss was glad to not have to spend the whole night pulling up floorboards, but as he took the crowbar through and knocked her wardrobe down to the side something suddenly gave him pause, like a sixth sense detecting some unknown danger. He was a little unnerved but still in a hurry, so almost on autopilot he jammed the crowbar into the floor while the feeling built in intensity. Suddenly there was a bright green flash from below, and the crowbar was wrenched out of his hands, flying into the ceiling. The same force blew him back hard across the room, his back hitting the edge of the doorframe and almost breaking the wooden beam in half. At the same time his body erupted in unearthly pain, his skin felt like it was on fire and his head like it was going to split open. After landing unsteadily on all fours, he hurled his last meal onto the floor next to him, stumbling onto his feet for only a second before he collapsed again, the pain quickly shutting down his system. In only a few seconds he was out cold.
Therica had spent a long time trying to pry the pendant free from her tongue with her teeth, but after several hours dedicated just to that task she had to give up. Clearly they were designed not to come apart with any ease, and it seemed like even using one’s hands to do it might be difficult. She had been moved again, this time into a large trunk that she guessed might have been how the hunter managed to transport her to the house from the city in the first place. It was at least padded inside, but the lid was sealed shut with large brass buckles and it was completely dark. The only thing she could hear was the faint sound of crickets outside somewhere. Her arms were trussed up behind her again, bound tightly to her ankles, her legs also tied snugly together, leaving her breasts pressed up against the floor of the container. Witches didn’t need to sleep nearly as much as humans, in desperate times as little as a few hours a week would suffice, so she didn’t feel tired. Having abandoned her attempts at undoing the pendant, she focused on the only other avenue she could think of, trying to pronounce the Latin words anyway. She thought of one of the simplest incantations she knew, a spell for creating light that witches usually learn as infants, then she tried to pronounce each sound slowly.
“L-u-ws…” She murmured quietly into the dark corner, but the sounds weren’t even close. Young witches sometimes took months mastering their first vocal incantations, the sounds had to be close to perfect. But still, she kept going, saying the word over and over, no matter how far off it came out. She could smell her own sweat over the leather of the trunk, it was going to be a long night.
A wave suddenly crashed over Weiss’ head, knocking him over in the swell. He couldn’t see any land, or anything but storm clouds overhead, pouring rain and tides and tides of rough water. He struggled to catch his breath, trying to keep his head up, trying not to drown. For a moment he looked up and the clouds had parted, revealing a black sky dotted with shining stars, those of the constellations ten times brighter than normal and joined as if with golden string. He had seen this sky before, been here before. He started to realise what was happening and let himself sink into the water, out of the storm. The stars were still faintly visible overhead, but all around him was nothing but darkness, an endless ocean. It inspired a certain kind of terror but he steeled himself, trying to rally his courage. As he expected, a deep rumbling was starting to emerge below, coming from no particular direction and extending around him completely. It was as if the ocean itself was vibrating, and soon the rolling sounds turned into words, spoken in a deep voice that he almost felt in his body rather than heard. It was ancient, primordial, far beyond his reckoning.
“You must demonstrate more caution.” The voice intoned. Weiss opened his mouth to speak back but quickly closed it as water started to flood in. He shook his head, looking around instinctively even though he knew the voice had no physical speaker.
“I was able to save you this time. It was mere fortune.” Weiss thought he could see a shape in the water now, an even darker shape in the darkness all around him, slower getting closer.
“Do not underestimate them again.” The voice said finally, the shape approaching faster and faster until suddenly it engulfed Weiss completely.
He woke with a start on the same wooden floorboards of Therica’s apartment. There was sunlight on his face, streaming through a slit in a curtained window, but what actually woke him was a banging sound. Knocking on wood… Someone was knocking on the door.
“Hey! Anyone home? Therica? Are you there?” A male voice called out loudly. Weiss got to his feet and suddenly he reeled again, realising he was still weak and dizzy from whatever had happened to him last night. He had a splitting headache but he pushed through, stumbling towards the bedroom where he could see a hole blasted in the floor, like a small bomb had gone off. He practically dived into the hole and found a small red satchel made of fine silk. It was heavy, something thick was inside, but he didn’t have time to investigate now. Whoever was outside was still knocking on the door, and he had a feeling they might break their way in before leaving. It could even be the police, he had no idea how long he was out for. He felt incredibly tired but he did his best to think through the pain, throwing the satchel over his shoulder and heading back to the living room, desperately looking around. The window was the only other way out. He pulled the curtains open and surveyed the two storey drop, it was dangerous, it could easily end in disaster. But there was more yelling from the door and he realised he had no choice. He gritted his teeth and slid the pane open, swinging one leg out first then the other. Halfway out of the building he looked down at the small garden below. With a deep breath he aimed for a bush and jumped, bracing himself mentally for the incoming pain.
Therica hadn’t slept all night, she hadn’t needed to. She didn’t think he was going to leave her alone for longer than it took to grab the books from her apartment and return. This could only mean one thing, the trap must have worked. As well prepared as he was he must have been in a rush, and even if he wasn’t it would be difficult to detect and disarm, impossible to survive. She figured that it must have been close to midday, and she had been trying to break out of the trunk for hours. There was no way to get a good enough angle to pound at the lid with any force, so she was mostly trying to somehow force the sides open and work at her bindings. Even if she somehow got loose though, the trunk was heavy duty, there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to force her way out even then. There was only one person who knew she was here, and she had led him into a deathtrap. Still, she took some satisfaction in knowing that she had stopped whatever crusade he was on, and she maintained hope that she would figure some way out. When she heard the door of the house opening her heart started to race, someone had come here for some reason. She couldn’t let them leave, even if it meant being seen in such a compromised position by a human.
“HEEEEEEEEEELP! HELP ME!” She screamed as loud as she could. After an entire night of practice speaking with the tongue piercing her words were a lot clearer. Not clear enough to pronounce the Latin incantations though. She shook herself from side to side, rocking the trunk slightly. Suddenly there was a loud thud above and something held it still. The buckles clicked open and the lid swung up, light pouring in on her sweaty, almost naked body. It was him. Of course it was him. He looked hurt, dirty, frantic. The trap must have worked but he had somehow survived it. How could that be possible? Spells like the one she cast on that hiding place were meant to stop demons in their tracks, a human who triggered it should be no more than a smoking pile of ash.
“You’ve got some explaining to do.” He muttered, his voice hoarse, his usual air of smug satisfaction replaced with anger. Real anger. In one swift movement she was yanked out of the trunk, and she knew there was more torture coming. He threw her onto the floor in a heap and in a moment she felt the hard sole of a shoe on her hip, pinning her down on her side.
“How are you alive?” She grimaced, pain racing through her body again, her words much more easily understood now. She couldn’t get up or get loose so she lay still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of squirming under his weight. He bit his lip, trying to keep his cool, realising that he was only throwing away his mental upper hand.
“You think I wasn’t ready for your pathetic trap? You should be relieved, what do you think would happen to you if I didn’t come back? No one knows you’re here, you’d starve. I thought you were beginning to realise that you were just a fucktoy now but I suppose you need some more reminding.”
“Just kill me. I don’t have anything more to tell you.” She muttered. She didn’t bother asking again but she was still perplexed by the question. How *did* he survive? It was simply impossible, clearly the trap had gone off and the mental effects were even stronger than the physical blast, his brain should be scrambled. She was pulled from her thoughts by the hunter’s hands gripping her hair, pulling her up painfully onto her knees. Her large, round breasts sat prominently before him, holding their place perfectly against gravity, the tight hogtie making her arch her back, accentuating them further. She really was a perfect specimen, the perfected female form. In stark contrast to her delicate beauty, Weiss’ large, rough hand gripped her throat and held her up, while the other slapped across her cheek, making her yelp quietly, the pain igniting across her skin, her face turning red in the shape of a flat palm.
“Pull anything like that again and I might just grant your wish. But for now we’re going to continue your training. I don’t care if I have to fuck you a thousand times, eventually you’ll learn your place.” He snarled, staring her in the eyes, the dark golden irises aimed right back at him.
“You… You..” She spluttered, spitting out her words through her closed throat. He squeezed harder and she started to choke completely, collapsing to the ground a moment later when he finally let go and dropped her. She stared straight ahead at the filtered light coming through the dirty window nearby, her eyes red and watering as she coughed up saliva.
“You-” She was cut off again as he returned with the ball gag, shoving it in her mouth and buckling it up before she could even begin her sentence in earnest.
“You don’t need to talk for this.” He said quietly.
Hours later he still hadn’t relented, she was bent forwards on her knees, her arms running down underneath her with her hands sitting between her feet, curled tightly into fists that dug her nails into her palms. All four of her limbs were bound together in a neat row with a long thick knot between them, wrists tied to ankles and to each other. A length of rope was wrapped loosely around her neck almost like a makeshift collar, it choked her a little as the other end ran down to the mass of knots at her limbs, keeping her torso awkwardly contorted. The position was painful and uncomfortable, but perfect for her to be fucked endlessly by her captor. She was sitting on the old couch that occupied one corner of the living room in the hideout, Weiss standing behind her, his hard cock sitting between her ass cheeks, penetrating her deep, slowly thrusting in and out. He was past the point of pounding himself into her, slamming her into the cushions and taking out his rage on her body, the evidence was splashed across her back, three or four loads of his horrible seed. His sexual appetite and vitality both seemed endless, and now he simply stood slowly rocking himself forward and back a few inches each way inside her. Somehow, this wasn’t even her gravest concern at the moment. In his hands he held her grimoire, the last secret she had attempted to keep from him, although he had liberated it from her apartment anyway. He seemed to be struggling with the Latin somewhat but eventually he started to work his way through, after all if he really was hunting witches he had surely learned at least a bit of the old tongue. What was probably confusing him even more than the Latin however was the sporadic nature of the documents packed into the book. Some of it was a collection of basic magical lore, some was information on subjects that Therica was particularly interested in, there were some personal notes she had made herself and even a few complicated spells she had been working on, although the latter would have gotten her in trouble if her Coven Mother knew, spells were typically considered too valuable for witches to keep in their grimoires. The various loose pages were strewn about around her near naked body, right in front of her face sat part of a history on Therica Alpheratz, an ancient witch who once led the Andromeda Coven, a personal idol of hers. If that ancient Coven Mother could see her now, daring to bear her name while a man used her like a common whore… She didn’t even know what she would do, but it would probably be even worse than what was happening to her now. She tried to nudge the page away with her chin but only succeeded in drooling on it around the ball gag and choking herself a little on the rope. She groaned in pain, and as if in response Weiss spoke from behind her.
“Oh the fortune I would make if I published all of this, can you imagine? The most magical sites of the old world…” he crowed, pointing to one page in particular.
“So many tourists would flock there that you harpies would have a hard time ever using them again. I have to say it’s tempting just to rake in all the money and fame I can, take you as my trophy and give up on the rest of your kind. Though I suppose if I stop whatever it is you’re planning I’ll only be more venerated. And that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy you while I’m working.” As he spoke, the entire time, he rocked his thick, hard member against the inside of her sex, slowly pleasuring himself but not in any rush to cum again. The result was that her body was slowly overcoming the pain and humiliation of the forced penetration and starting to send sick waves of physical pleasure through her. She bit down hard into the rubber ball, dug her fingernails harder into her palms, trying desperately to avoid letting the feeling build up. She assumed that his words were only to taunt her, clearly he knew enough about witches to know that if he actually published anything from her grimoire it would be the quickest way to get not only her coven but every witch on the planet on his tail. It wouldn’t last long either, witches have dealt with much worse versions of that kind of incident many times since they went into hiding. No… Worryingly he seemed more interested in the book for how it would inform his strategy of going after them one by one and working alone. She desperately tried to remember if anything she put in there would even give him a clue as to where the rest of her coven was. Obviously she would never simply journal about the coven’s plans but she couldn’t be sure that she didn’t let some tiny clue slip, some offhand comment about Zurich or Boston. Even something like that would give him a place to start looking. It was so hard to think while he was doing this to her, so hard to concentrate.
Her body started to twitch and jolt in reaction to him, making her unwillingly tighten against his member and tug at the restraints. Her face was red and sweaty, trying so hard not to let her body enjoy what was happening to her. Every spark of pleasure was met with twice as much humiliation, if she actually reached orgasm she would never forgive herself, it would be a point of no return. Her breathing got heavier and she tried to struggle against him but it only made the sensation harder to deny, after being tortured for so long her body didn’t have any other reaction to give. Then thankfully, the man suddenly lost interest in the page he was reading, slapping it down onto her back as he grabbed her hips. She winced at the thought of his cum staining the pages of her most sacred possession as it stuck to her skin, but ultimately she was relieved as he leant forward and started pounding hard into her again, and the pleasure faded into more pain. For a moment she felt a brief wave of disappointment, but it was fleeting and she quickly buried it down, scorning herself for letting the feeling approach her for even a split second. She was being *raped*, now was not the time to be enjoying herself. Obviously. She closed her eyes and braced herself for another load either dumped inside her or sprayed over her body, but first she felt a sensation that was unfamiliar, and filled her with a somehow brand new level of dread. His hand was gripping her ass cheek, spreading her open so he could get deeper, but his thumb had wandered its way to her asshole, brushing across it lightly. She stopped squirming and froze, instantly regretting the involuntary reaction as he noticed it right away.
“Oh… You don’t…like that… Do you?” He grunted out between deep breaths. She tried to scream at him but it was muffled by the gag and only frustrated her even more. Never, ever, would she even think about that part of her body being used for pleasure. She knew some humans did that sort of thing but to her it was simply grotesque. Nevertheless, he started to massage his thumb over it, threatening to penetrate her but never pressing it in, only enjoying the feeling of it and her involuntary response to tighten her whole body. She screamed her protestations, how could she not, but they were lost in the gag as he continued to violate her, and after finding a way to degrade her even further, he didn’t last much longer before he emptied himself inside her yet again, collapsing over her body in ecstasy.
That night Weiss was still going through the pages of Therica’s grimoire, it would take him a while to translate all the Latin and figure out what exactly was useful. He was skimming through a passage about charming magic, detailing the particular strengths and weaknesses, what ideas are easy to magically suggest and what takes more thorough mental domination. Apparently it was harder to make people do things that go starkly against their own self interest, like jumping off a bridge or setting their house on fire, but it was significantly easier to make them do something that could justifiably benefit them, even if it was still an extreme act. This, it would seem, made strategies like coercing humans into murdering their enemies very effective and relatively simple. It was interesting, perhaps it would help him track down the next witch in some way once he narrowed her down, but he needed a much bigger clue. Just as he was about to drop the page and move on, he felt a sensation wash over him, the same one that gave him pause as he was about to open the floorboards. This time he listened to it, going back over the passage, trying to figure out what it was he was meant to find. The sensation became less unnerving and more energetic, it seemed to be telling him he was on the right track. The only thing he thought could have held any further clues was an example the book used of a witch charming her way into power in Smolensk, in Russia. She was in the Andromeda coven but that hardly meant anything, the passage could have been hundreds of years old and he knew he couldn’t rely on anything that came before what the witches called the dark era, when dozens of them were tried and executed, mostly by Europeans. After that all their plans would have changed as they went into hiding. But still, the otherworldly feeling compelled him to keep reading, even spurring him on, telling him he was close. But what else was there? The short account ended with the witch managing to completely dominate someone called the ‘Marshal of Nobility’. As he read those words the sensation rose, almost seeming to scream at him. Marshal of Nobility… Marshal of Nobility… Marshal… He kept rereading the words until it finally clicked. That wasn’t an old title, in fact it didn’t exist before the rule of Catherine the Great, who introduced it in the late eighteenth century. This passage had to be from after the dark era, which meant there was a good chance Therica’s coven still had someone in Russia, maybe this witch was even still in Smolensk. It wasn’t exactly a name and address but it was a solid direction. It was time to leave Australia. He glanced up from the page as the strange sensation departed him, having done its work. Therica was completely bound up from head to toe, her arms behind her in reverse-prayer, her legs bound as one, a chest harness squeezing her tits tightly. She was hanging from the ceiling upside down from her ankles. A human wouldn’t be able to take more than a few hours in such a position but the witch’s face wasn’t even red. Dried cum still plastered her body, the ball gag still forcing her lips wide open, drool stringing from her mouth. Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. He would still need more information from her, but that was nothing that couldn’t be accomplished on the way to Russia.
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