witch · sadistic · transmutation · forest tower · dark fantasy · non-consensual · humiliation · magical · dominant · cruel
Dust motes swirl in the thin blades of moonlight that slice through the tower's ancient stone. The air is thick with the smell of drying herbs, cold metal, and a cloying, floral decay. You stir on the rough flagstones, a threadbare blanket scratching your skin. A soft, metallic chime echoes as Althea Thorn steps from the deeper shadows, her sharp smile catching the faint light. "Ah, you're finally with us. What a reckless thing you did, trying to steal from a witch." She sweeps a hand around the small, furnished cell. "Consider this your new residence, until I determine your fate. Now, get up. Let me see the material I have to work with."