---Entry 22/Trial 14/Back to School---
Dear Gretel,
Still feeling sore from the day I'd had, partly because of the last hurrah of decadent sex play from the night before, and the rigorous training regimen I'd been put on the moment I woke up surrounded by my slaves-turned-professors. Even my hands are aching a bit as I try to get all of this down in exacting detail, some of which I'm getting directly from the three causes of all the aches and sexy pains. Looking at the three faces looking back at me right now, I'm turned on, but too tired to do anything about it. That libido constantly reminding me of insatiability is now nagging at me as it feels the drought coming on, and nagging at why I can't and/or won't "pet" her to satisfaction like I used to.
I woke up feeling good to three hooded figures standing around Esther's bed, staring down at me with serious expressions. If I wasn't convinced I was awake, I would've sworn a nightmare crept up on me, featuring three wraiths who'd come to bring about the death of hedonistic fun; that's an actual nightmare of mine, and it began to come true as they started giving me orders, telling me to get up and be ready for the day.
Still pretty sleepy, I let the audacity of my slaves giving me orders slide; I knew why they were adamant just like they knew why I was merciful. My body was effortlessly pulled up from beneath the covers and to a standing position next to the bed. The shock of the sensation made me stretch out my hands to stop them, only to realize how weak the magic from my fingertips was coming out. Like a clogged faucet, the stream of my power did nothing against Esther's single-handed pull, which graciously put me within arms reach of a modern witch's modest idea of a continental breakfast a few pieces of fruit, bread, and a glass of water. Hungry from the last night's activities, and noting that the trio had probably already been up enough to eat themselves, I gorged myself on the sustenance, not a complete pig about it, but certainly not graceful.
The smell of the last few grapes and a slice of orange set against the scent in the room, it took several minutes for me to realize what should've been a familiar odor I should've been aware of before.
"Inhibicus?" I questioned with my own stern expression, noting the stench of the power-sapping potion; it's the kind of potion that's rarely used outside of magical training, which confirmed exactly what I was in for. I also noted with curious eyes how my power waned, but theirs probably hadn't. Or scarier and more impressive still, theirs did wane, but they hold enough power that their weakest trumps mine.
"Insurance," Connie spoke, making my head turn to my silver-haired witch.
"Ensuring that I don't force you on your knees like last night?"
"Not that we'd mind that," a sliver of a smile almost crept to the corners of her mouth, "but it's in your best interests to not be distracted with things you already know."
"It is in-fact in your best interest to see to watch you surpass that point, and grow," Esther said, making me feel like a prized pupil of hers.
"It's not that in your considerable skill we do not rely on trust," Esmeraude said behind me.
"It's just that we don't want your considerable skill to rely solely on lust," Connie said.
I'd realized too late the rhyming cadence been spoken, being triple-teamed by my coven underlings as the began floating above ground. The hedonist in me couldn't help but levy some magic at them to break up their rhythm, or try to. Extending my essence so weakly opened me up to how considerable their power was from every angle, as levitation turned circular.
"So to ensure that you do not remain in this simple station," Esther said, her voice blended off into the background and the eye of the storm I began to feel disorientated in.
"We must help you improve, and become one in arbitration," Esmeraude probably said, thought even the distinct voices started to blend within one another, truly making it a joint spell cast down on me.
As they became the winds of a tornado, I became the eye of the storm, trapped in the vortex
"We love Cherish, and obey, future equal to the present."