The World Is Mine For The Taking

"U-Um, Master? I don't really get it… What is this?" Dorothea asked, her voice soft and uncertain as she stared at the item in my hand.

I had returned here just a day after our last encounter.

Before leaving, I'd told her I would bring something.

It was something that would keep her from indulging in herself while I was away. And now, I was delivering on that promise.

Along with that, I had instructed her to start calling me "Master" from now on.

There was something electrifying about hearing one of the most feared and dangerous individuals in the world submit to me with a single word. Master. Just the way it rolled off her tongue, without hesitation, made something primal stir within me.

It was thrilling. Intoxicating even.

She hadn't resisted it. Not even a little. In fact, she accepted it with the eagerness of a puppy, rubbing her face affectionately against my chest as if seeking my approval.

The infamous Black Witch… reduced to this obedient, eager woman?

I still couldn't believe how easily she'd fallen.

But hey, I wasn't going to complain.

She wasn't just some prize to me.

She was someone I absolutely couldn't afford to lose. Someone who had wandered too close to my grasp to ever be let go now.

It only felt natural to claim her as mine.

The item I handed her… was a chastity belt.

A sleek, snugly fitting device of polished black steel and leather, molded perfectly to her hips. It gleamed under the dim light like a forbidden artifact.

Its purpose was simple.

It would deny her any chance of pleasuring herself while I wasn't there.

No fingering. No grinding. Nothing.

I was the only one who held the key.

And I was certain that this restriction would only heighten her yearning for me, pushing her lust to greater, more desperate heights.

"This thing is going to be locked onto your hips," I explained slowly, holding it out for her to see in full. "It'll keep you from even trying to touch yourself when I'm not around. I've got the key. Only I have it. You won't be able to budge it, no matter how hard you try."

The moment I said that, her cheeks burned with a deep crimson blush.

Her eyes trembled as she stared at it, and her breathing grew faster, short, needy breaths that betrayed the way her body reacted.

Even though the idea sounded harsh—cruel, even—it clearly made her wet.

"J-Just thinking about how you're depriving me of pleasuring myself… it's making me horny," she admitted, her voice shaky and filled with aroused bliss. "I-I want you to fuck me again, Master… I know it's only been a day since we saw each other, but I want it again. Please… preferably in the front hole this time."

Her body was trembling now with her legs slightly shaking as she rubbed her thighs together, helpless to suppress her arousal. Her face was flushed like a ripe tomato, her lips parted, breathing uneven.

And I couldn't help but notice the wetness already trickling down her inner thighs.

She wasn't wearing any panties.

"Well," I said with a grin, stepping closer. "I suppose I could indulge you… just for a little while."

With a flick of my fingers, the vines emerged—slithering from the shadows—and I closed the distance between us.

I fucked her hard and deep—until her moans turned into incoherent cries of pleasure. Until her eyes rolled back and her body went limp, unconscious from sheer overstimulation.

Only then did I secure the chastity belt onto her.

It clicked into place around her hips, hugging her snugly, the lock snapping shut with finality.

With that, her freedom to touch herself was completely stripped away.

"I'm heading out for a bit," I said, adjusting my coat. "You should stay here. And make sure you're dressed properly. I don't want the others getting the wrong idea—thinking you just finished getting fucked. Clean yourself up. Groom properly."

"A-Alright~…" she replied, voice dazed and sweet, her blush still burning on her cheeks as she waved me goodbye—chastity belt already locked on her hips, gleaming like a mark of ownership.

With that, I turned and left.

***

Johanne was already waiting when I arrived—standing beside Tris.

They were both there, watching me approach.

Tris was the same as always.

That unreadable smile curled on her lips, playful and mysterious, as if she were hiding a secret only she found amusing.

"Leon," Johanne said as soon as her eyes found mine.

"Sorry I'm late," I told them, running a hand through my hair. "I had something I had to take care of first."

"It's alright," she replied gently. "I was just getting a little worried you might've gotten into an accident. You didn't answer my calls."

"Ah…"

Right. I'd been balls-deep in the Black Witch when she called. No wonder I didn't notice.

"Sorry. I must've silenced my phone," I told her.

"Really? Well… I guess that's fine," she said, visibly relieved. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Alright then. Shall we?" I said, nodding toward the road ahead.

With that, the three of us began walking.

Our destination?

Dorothea's place.

We were going to finally reveal the truth to Johanne—that her real gender… the one she'd always had… was that of a woman.

"Are you sure this person's going to help me with my case, Leon?" Johanne asked, her tone skeptical but hopeful.

"I'm sure," I assured her. "She's even willing to do it for free."

"I wonder why she's willing to help for free, Leon?" Tris chimed in, her smile widening.

She wasn't asking out of genuine curiosity.

She knew.

She was teasing me—smiling because she knew damn well about my relationship with Dorothea.

I didn't bother responding. I just ignored her and kept walking.

Eventually, we arrived at the place.

The same location where we'd first met Dorothea—where we had to phase through a wall to enter a long, silent hallway before arriving at a lone door at the far end.

I knocked on it, once.

"Come in," said a voice from within—elegant and refined, echoing softly through the door.

I honestly couldn't believe how easily she'd shifted from the lust-filled moans from earlier to this calm, refined tone in an instant.

I slowly pushed the door open.

A soft creak echoed as the hinges gave way, revealing the quiet interior of a small, dimly lit room.

At the center, illuminated by the warm glow of an old ceiling lamp, was Dorothea.

She sat with an air of composure, poised in one of the simple wooden chairs beside a small round table. T

he delicate clink of porcelain filled the silence as she raised a fine teacup to her lips.

She sipped.

There was a grace to it.

The way her lips pressed against the rim, the elegance in the tilt of her wrist, even the faint smacking sound as she savored the taste—it wasn't just drinking tea... it was more like a performance. A silent declaration of presence.

Even Johanne, standing beside me, visibly gulped.

She didn't need words to understand. This woman radiated power—the kind you don't challenge without consequence.

"Have a seat," Dorothea said smoothly, her voice a calm breeze laced with authority.

She uncrossed her legs, then recrossed them. That ever-present, wise smile curved on her lips as she gazed at the three of us.

"So then... what do you want me to do?" Her words were slow, measured, as if she already knew the answer but wanted to hear it spoken aloud.

"I..."

Johanne turned to look at me.

I blinked. My head tilted slightly, confused why she looked at me and not at Tris. Still, I said nothing. Let her take her time.

"I heard that you can help me," Johanne finally said.

Dorothea's expression didn't change. "Help you with what?"

"To turn me back to my real form."

She said it flatly. No dramatics and no hesitation. Straight to the point.

But the words—though brave—were vague. Almost too vague.

"To turn me back to my real form?" That could mean anything. To anyone else, it might have sounded like nonsense.

Even someone as experienced as the Black Witch wouldn't know what to make of such a cryptic request.

Unless… they already knew the story.

And Dorothea did.

Because she was the one who had done it.

She was the one who changed Johanne's gender when she was still an infant—long before she could remember anything at all.

"But you're already in your real form, young'un," Dorothea said.

The sentence struck like a bell.

Johanne's eyes shot open. "W-What do you mean? My real form? This isn't—"

"But it is." Dorothea's voice was steady and unshaken. Her eyes remained fixed on Johanne, sharp as razors yet calm as still water.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she slowly rose from her chair.

The movement was smooth, as if she floated upward, her cloak settling gently around her like smoke curling around fire.

"You might not know this..." she began, her voice dipping into something quieter. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't. You were just a newborn when I first laid eyes on you."

Johanne sat frozen.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, as if her body already knew what was coming but her mind refused to accept it.

"But I met you roughly twenty years ago."

"W-Wha...?" Johanne's voice trembled, the sound barely escaping her lips.

"You were brought to me by a man. A white-haired man," Dorothea continued, her tone unwavering. "He made a request."

Johanne's throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her eyes flicked between Dorothea's face and the floor, struggling to hold focus.

Whether these next words would comfort or shatter her… would be decided in an instant.

"And that something... was to change the gender of the baby."

Silence.

For a moment, time itself felt like it stopped.

And in that silence, I saw it—

The unmistakable expression on Johanne's face.

It was shock. Disbelief. A soul unraveling in real time. All at the same time.

Her eyes, wide and glassy, lost focus as the truth crashed into her like a tidal wave.