CamSoda Fetish
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Melise swore silently as she pulled her travel bag up the stairs. What
idiot had thought of the idea a school needs a widespread staircase in
the front of the school's courtyard? She cursed again as she climbed
another step. Each step on its own wasn't high. Maybe the combined width
of two of her fingers. Instead, they were wide and the whole staircase
spread out like a giant courtyard of its own.
As much as Melise was annoyed with the staircase, it was just the
sacrificial lamb that garnered the dubious honor to be the stand in for
the real targets of her anger.
She climbed the last steps and it came into view. The royal school. The
place where everyone wanted to be. Princes and princesses. Sons and
daughters of every rung of the aristocratic ladder. Children of high
merchants or wealthy mages. Everyone save for one. Melise would nothing
more to turn around and storm off. The question was to what? Her mother
had sacrificed everything to get her here. Her wealth, dubious fame, and
legacy. More so she had sacrificed Melise legacy as well. Snuffed its
flame before it could blossom.
Her mother wanted her to have a good life. The right life. Not the
shunned one she had. It left her here. The one place she didn't want to
be. Grumbling and cursing she started to move again.
First was the lower reception. The one for not high borns. She was shown
by a servant to her quarters. A small room in a dorm favored by mages or
mages to be. How ironic. The one discipline she was interested in was the
one she had already learned. On top, it wouldn't be taught here. Not in a
million years. Even some aspects of necromancy were taught here. Not
hers. It was shunned like the mages that wield it. But in secret. Oh, how
they loved it. Everyone with money came soon or later. Not that they
would admit it.
A gentle knock announced that she had a visitor. On her bidding, a
servant came in.
"The dean would like to see you. Now."
She might have felt threatened if it wasn't for the fact that she knew it
would happen. Part of the deal her mother made to get her in. It looked
like her unpacking had to wait. She grabbed her most dear possession, her
private lexicon, and headed out.
She followed the servant to the main building. A monstrosity that could
be as well a castle. Dozens of floors, stairs, and hallways. It appeared
as if the servant led her through each and every one of them.
She arrived finally before the dean's office. Just in time to wait for
three hours. 'Now!' must be a relative term around here.
When she was led in she nearly overlooked the dean. Behind a huge and
opulent decorated desk perched a slim looking man. His haggard figure had
all the signs she expected. Arrogant and snobbish. Drunk on the power
that his little fiefdom gave him.
"Miss Melise of the famous Arnier mage family I presume."
She gave him her best cutesy.
"Melise Arnier. That is all I can call myself now."
"Ah yes right. A wise choice on your mother's part. Nevertheless, I have
to ask for your lexicon."
Melise hesitated. Just for a moment. Reluctant to hand over her prized
possession. Still, she did what she had to do.
The dean weighted the heavy book and took a look at the cover. Then he
flipped open the book and paged to the first cataloged item.
"Now Miss Arnier the key please."
She stifled a sigh and told him her elaborate system to mark what item
was in her possession and which did not.
Systematically he examined each page. In the end, he grunted.
"Just eight items? I thought the Arnier's family portfolio was bigger.
Many of these .. things .. still have the Arnier family listed as an
owner."
"That was true. You see the families in this trade always try to get
exclusivity. In order to get me into this school, my mother sold every
exclusive we had. What is left are these common ones nearly every family
owns," Melise admitted. Her voice sounded calm and collected. But within
she was furious about that very fact.
"I see. Well, I guess it's a clean break from the past. However, should
you ever go back to old family habits please know that it is part of the
deal that I know every item you possess."
Melise gave a curt nod.
"Dismissed Miss Arnier."
Hastily she stood up and left after grabbing her lexicon.
*****
It was three months later that a servant disrupted Melise class. She
wasn't much into auric manipulation anyways, but with limited options,
she had to choose something. The servant whispered something to the
teacher who glanced to Melise. Definitely not a good sign she decided.
"Melise. Please put away your materials and follow this servant to the
dean's office."
She swallowed. Three months. Her mother had given everything away for
measly three months. However, she was determined to not let her
disappointment to be shown. She packed her things and followed the
servant out. However, she quickly noticed that it wasn't the way to the
dean's office.
"Where we going?" she asked.
"Your dorm room Miss. I was told that you need a lexicon of some kind."
Melise silently cursed. If she needed her lexicon a bad situation just
hit catastrophic. At what point had she messed up? What noble had she
been run afoul of? With this school, it could be anyone. It was a
cauldron of intrigue and deception. Wealthy low borns mixed in an
environment with high borns. This was an opportunity to rise above the
mob by marrying an aristocrat. Those, however, had their own little plays
and intrigues to play. Melise had to find out in whose conspiracy she had
stumbled and fast.
After retrieving her lexicon she was led directly into the dean's office.
No pompous waiting game this time. Another bad sign. Again she was
greeted by the sight of the haggard dean. New was the lad of maybe
nineteen and his parents. Wealthy clothed. Highborn for sure. Their usual
arrogant gaze missing. Open hostility showed there instead. Melise
frowned for a moment. She had seen that boy maybe one or two times from
afar. How could she have angered him?
"Ah, Melise. Please take a seat and hand me your lexicon," the dean
greeted her.
"How can you be so calm? She ruined our son. Throwing her in jail might
be the least she deserves," the father of the boy demanded in an angry
and stern voice. Melise recognized it. Someone was used to getting what
he wants.
"I assure you, baron of Kelis Islands, that I take this matter quite
seriously," the dean calmly countered.
Melise did as told. Picking apart the small exchange told her everything
she needed to know. First off it was not an intrigue she had stumbled
into. She was accused of using her learned profession. The very same her
mother was giving up. The good news was that she was innocent. Bad news,
however, was that she might not get a chance to prove it.
The dean opened the lexicon and flipped through it. Clearly, he was
searching for something. Melise wet her lips in anticipation and
hesitantly made a suggestion.
"If you tell me what happened I might be able to help."
"Oh, you know very well what you did!"
"Baron, please. Let's remain calm and civilized. Please entertain her
with giving her the facts."
Maybe Melise had misjudged the dean. That guy had a spine after all. Was
it her salvation or doom? Melise couldn't tell yet.
The baroness answered instead of her husband.
"A servant found undergarments hidden in his room. Female ones.
Confronted by us he admitted to wearing them! Hidden and while in public.
He even admitted receiving pleasure from doing so. How can that be not
her meddling? He was fine before we send our son here. It was a mistake
dean. No fetish mage should be allowed here."
Melise kept her cool on the outside. On the inside, her heart and mind
were racing. With opportunity comes hope. And this was the mother of all
opportunities. With a false calmness, she addressed the dean.
"That sounds to me like a cross-dressing fetish. On the matter of me
being accused, I can easily debunk any claim. If that shouldn't be enough
I am willing to swear by a contract mage."
Melise knew she had them. They just didn't know it yet. The dean
meanwhile found the page. His brows furrowed as he read the details.
"Yes here. Hmm. Her family never claimed to be in possession of this
particular fetish. Melise why don't you tell us your proof so we can get
past this as fast as possible."
Now she had to be careful. One wrong word and the doors of opportunity
might close. She wet her lips and started to explain.
"There are two ways a fetish mage can give another person a fetish. The
artificial way is hard, fast, illegal, and easily detectable. It is for
all purposes mind control and treated as such. Every fetish mage
apprentice has to sign a contract mage enchanted document before
receiving training. Making it impossible to use the pure artificial way
against anyone."
She gave them a short moment to stomach those details. Then she
continued.
"That leaves only the natural way. It is slow, but a lot less detectable.
In order to share a fetish, the mage would need to have the co-operation
of the target. For an inexperienced fetish mage as myself, it would take
hours to do this and your son would have noticed. With your son having
servants and other entourage it is easy to ask around. They all will tell
you that I haven't spent time with your son..."
The glaring showed her that they didn't believe her fully. It didn't
matter to Melise. The opportunity was still there. Ripe for her taking.
Now she had, so to speak, to go in for the kill.
"A usually unknown fact is that fetish mages as myself can remove them as
well. In fact, I'd be delighted to remove it from your son. I wouldn't
even request payment. Just a few other things. I assure you those would
be in your interest too."
Melise knew she had them. She had to try her hardest to not show a
wolfish smile. She still that the hatred in their eyes. The doubt.
"Nothing is for free," replied the baron. "What are those other things?"
"A contract mage. We all will sign a document forbidding us from telling
anyone what fetish I removed, as well as that no one can tell of whom I
removed it. You should recognize that with contract mages magic this
incident here will remain forever a secret. No one of us could tell.
Willingly or unwillingly. I just require one more thing. Part of the
contract has to be that you all give up any claim to the ownership of the
fetish."
"Whatever that means. Gladly," the baron added. "Just get it done."
After hashing out some detail a contract mage was called. He would
inscribe the contract onto their very souls. No breaking of the contract
possible. Ever.
Then Melise had to do her part. Facing the son she had to go into a
trance. Diving deep down into the mind of the target. The poor fella
didn't even know how much she would violate him. With him never speaking
a word Melise recognized the signs why he might have developed a fetish.
The mind was complex. Capable of many things. If hindered or blocked it
will find a way to free itself. Him being grown up with rules and
regulations to make him into a perfect heir his mind was plenty of
opportunities robbed.
A fetish like the one she was chasing now down was for all purposes a way
to break the mold. To have something for only himself. And now Melise
would rob him of it. To alter him and taking away his only escape of the
harsh ruling of his parents. To let him sink back into the boringness of
his normal mundane life.
She felt bad. However, not enough to stop her. Slowly she cut the fetish
loose. Disconnected every little strand from the host's mind. It took
long. Hours even. By the time she was done the last traces of sunlight
vanished behind hills. Now it was hers and hers alone.
The baron's family couldn't get out fast enough. Away from her. It was
good acting, Melise had to grant them that. While in trance she had
probed them. Just a little. A peek if you so will. Both parents had work
done by at least three of the more famous fetish mage-families. The
signatures unmistakably. Of course, they weren't alone. Fetishes were
spices to improve one's lives. And if one group had the means to indulge
themselves it was those rich with title or trade. Without them, fetish
mages would have long vanished.
Once gone Melise turned her lexicon on the dean's table around and marked
her new catch. Then she showed it the dean.
His eyes going wide.
"You didn't just remove it. You stole it," he accused her.
"How else would fetish mages acquire new ones?" she asked him in a calm
voice.
"I see now why you decided to bind us by contract. Dismissed Miss
Arnier," he told her.
The dean looked grumpy. Maybe it was because she outsmarted him for once.
She took her lexicon and headed out. Just before she reached the door the
dean once again addressed her.
"I hope you don't plan to start trouble Miss Arnier. I'll be keeping an
eye on you."
"I wouldn't dream about it." The lie flowed over her lips without
conscious thought.
She left the main building and looked around. With nightfall, the
courtyard was nearly deserted. She walked over to a bench and set down.
With a little bit of concentration, a spiderweb of light appeared over
her open hand. This was it. Her newest item. Rendered visible to the
naked eye. A fetish mage might see more. The fragile construct that
linked concepts and actions. Desires and needs. Every little nuance of
the fetish. It was a blueprint. Ready to be copied into the mind of
others. It was small for a fetish. In its infancy. Complex yet simple.
She could see the main parts that formed it: attraction to the panties of
women and the excitement of having something hidden.
The second part was what made it exceptional. Cross-dressing was known
well enough. Most of all the Bernard family called it their own. But
theirs was different. Their fetish was open, over the top and flamboyant.
Hers was the opposite. Hidden and well guarded. It was common yet
elusive. With people hiding it, it was hard to find someone possessing
it. It had proofed to be impossible to acquire. No one had been willing
to part with it. Until now.
Melise grinned and looked down on her treasure.
The fetish could use some growing. In the right host, it could mature
into something more. To include more garments or to be bolder in taking
risks while wearing things hidden. But to do this she needed hosts.
People volunteering that she could trust or control. The younger the
better. Best if they just left puberty behind.
She looked around. All the dorms around her were filled with prime
candidates. All she had to do was to pick some and find means to control
them.
Suddenly she had to laugh. All this time she never had felt she belonged
in this school. It was filled with intrigues and hidden plots. Now she
was scheming herself. What irony. She had become one of them. Not that
she minded. It was the break she had hoped for. Her mother had robbed her
of her family's legacy. Now she had the chance not to win the old one
back, but to start her own. Grinning she headed to her dorm and to bed.
There was suddenly much to do and she hardly could wait. When she was
done panties will be part of the school uniform and not just for the
girls around here.
Nadine
- 23.08.2020
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