by Van ©2019
		Chapter 2

The Ministry of Magic Official Portal between the Fey Realm (aka, the Green Wood) and the Human Realm (aka, "the world") is in the Forest of Dean near the village of Ruspidge.

Muggle guidebooks list two public houses in the village: The Rising Sun Inn, and The New Inn, but there is actually a third.  Its name is The Merry Robin, and it's masked by a permanent glamour that firmly but gently repels all muggles.  And the tipsy "Robin" in question is the elf (and self-styled "fairy") Robin Goodfellow (aka Puck), not the ubiquitous and beloved songbird the European Robin (Erithacus rubecula), and that's made abundantly clear by the quaint, fanciful sign hanging above the pub's door.

And just in case it isn't already abundantly clear, The Merry Robin caters exclusively to witches and wizards.  It has excellent beers on tap, a full menu (including the best Shepherd's Pie in Ruspidge), and is host to a small Ministry of Magic Customs Station.

The Ministry's flying Bentley (Hermione, Cassie, and Sabrina's transportation to Ruspidge) came in for a gentle landing in the side-yard of a garage on the outskirts of the village.  Like The Merry Robin, the garage is also an exclusively magical establishment and shielded from muggle eyes.  Also, it has a standing contract to act as a Ministry car park.  The three witches emerged from the Bentley, exchanged smiles and nods with the garage mechanic, then strolled through the side-yard door and out onto the streets of Ruspidge proper.

Hermione was still wearing her smart business ensemble of black skirt and jacket with gray collar trim (of course), and she'd made sure her black velvet reticule was securely dangling by its drawstring from her left wrist.  The tiny purse looked barely large enough to hold a couple of credit cards, a modest wad of folded bills, a few coins, and a folded handkerchief, but a muggle would be astonished to discover that it could and did hold much, much more.  At the moment, the tiny black bag held several complete changes of clothes, including lingerie, a few casual outfits, both a heavy and a light coat, and a pair of stout hiking boots.  It also held a dozen or so books (for a little light reading), copies of a dozen or so Ministry files (for a little light work), and her preliminary notes for three more formal suggestions she planned to submit.  Despite its contents, the reticule swung from Hermione's wrist as if it weighed next to nothing.

Cassie was wearing a gray ensemble similar to Hermione's: skirt, jacket, white blouse, hose, and black high heel pumps.  A tiny Magical Congress of the USA badge was pinned to her lapel, and like Hermione's MoM badge, it was charmed to disguise its nature from muggles while confirming to wizards and witches that she was on official business.  Cassie had confided to Hermione that she'd agreed to wear the pin only at the insistence of her MACUSA "handlers," supposedly so certain Ministry "fuddy-duddies" would take her seriously.  At the time, Hermione had rolled her eyes and smiled in sympathy.  Hermione knew all about Ministry fuddy-duddies.

Cassie also had a small, compact, larger-on-the-inside-than-on-the-outside fringed purse dangling from her left wrist.  Hermione had expressed her admiration for the tiny deerskin bag's turquoise, amber, and cowrie bead-work.  Cassie smiled and explained it was a gift from a Kiowa medicine woman and close personal friend.  Did it clash with Cassie's conventional attire?  Not dangling from Cassandra Nightingale's wrist it didn't!  Fashion-wise (in Hermione's opinion), Cassie could get away with anything.

Sabrina, on the other hand, was not dressed for business.  She was wearing a blood-red off-the-shoulder sweater, a black mini-skirt, black tights, and a pair of black Doc Martin boots.  (She was also wearing a black bra, confirmed by its visible shoulder straps.)  Her short blond hair was held back by a black headband and her lips were glossed a dark blood-red.  Truth be told, Sabrina's outfit was the sort of thing Hermione and her fellow Gryffindors would have disparagingly mocked as "Slytherin-Slutty," the sort of "casual" civilian clothing Draco Malfoy's female house-mates habitually wore on their weekend trips from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade Village—not that Hermione and her friends had been a gaggle of snarky and judgmental teenage girls, of course.

Sabrina's costume wasn't something Hermione would wear (although Ron's reaction would almost certainly be highly positive) but she had to admit it wasn't, uh, entirely unattractive.  And maybe red, black, and slightly tawdry is all the rage in America.  Hermione made a mental note to purchase copies of the current American editions of Vogue, InStyle, Harper's Bazaar, and Haute Witch the next time she passed a newsstand.

Anyway, Sabrina's only luggage was a small black leather backpack.  It appeared to be more-or-less empty, but Hermione assumed that like her reticule and Cassie's "Red Indian" purse, it was crammed with Sabrina's traveling clothes, toiletries, etc.

They strolled down the village street with Cassie and Sabrina openly admiring the picture-book quaintness of Ruspidge... then arrived at The Merry Robin.  A bell over the door jangled as they entered.  Behind the bar a late-middle-age wizard with a full beard and a rather disorderly head of brown hair shot through with gray was polishing pint glasses with a clean rag.

Hermione smiled and cleared her throat.  "Ahem."  She then reached into the breast pocket of her jacket and pulled out a folded parchment.  "Good morning.  Can you please direct me to the Customs Agent?"  She unfolded the parchment to reveal a page of elegant calligraphy embossed with the MoM seal in red wax.  "As a duly appointed representative of the Ministry of Magic—"
 
"Yes, yes," the man chuckled.  "I would be the Customs Agent, and I know all about your little trip."  He pointed to a green door with elaborate, decorative, vine-shaped hinge-straps on the far side of the public room.  "Through the door, down the path, stay between the menhirs, and bob's your uncle.  My regards to The Lady."  He shifted his focus to Cassie, then nodded at Hermione and Sabrina.  "The Green Wood is unforgiving," he warned.  "We don't want our younguns gettin' themselves into troubles, now do we?"

"I quite agree, sir," Cassie purred.  "We'll be careful."

Hermione was very much afraid she'd just been labeled wet-behind-the-ears.  Well!  I like that!  However, it was clear the publican's heart was in the right place, so Hermione's smile never wavered.  Neither did Sabrina's.

Polite farewells were exchanged, Cassie, Hermione, and Sabrina crossed the pub to the green door, Cassie lifted the latch, swung open the door, and they crossed the threshold.

Before them was verdant forest as far as the eye could see.  The trees were mostly towering, ancient oaks with impressively large trunks and gnarled, massive branches.  On the forest floor, ferns, shade-loving wildflowers, and mushrooms peeked through a carpet of fallen leaves.  Running between the towering oaks was a more-or-less straight path clearly delineated by weather-worn, regularly spaced, six or seven foot tall menhirs (standing stones) cloaked with green moss.

"Wow," Sabrina heaved an appreciative sigh as they started down the path.  "So this is the famous 'Forest of Dean.'  Nice.  Very... green."

Hermione smiled.

Cassie smiled as well.  "No, dear.  This is the Green Wood.  Look behind us."

Sabrina spun on her heels and—"Oh!"—her blue eyes popped wide.  To the rear, the path and line of standing stones stretched into the distance... crossed a flowery meadow... then disappeared into a forest of more giant oaks!  There was no sign whatsoever of The Merry Robin, the village of Ruspidge, or any other part of 21st Century Britain!

Gwĕnhyvær was stradling a lower branch of an ancient oak, swinging her dangling feet and awaiting the arrival of The Lady's guests.  There was no particular designated time-of-arrival, but Gwen expected them to stroll down the path at any time.

Suddenly, a robin swooped down and landed on the left tine of Gwen's antler-like hardwood circlet.

"♫Twee-ta-twee-twee-t'twe't't't't't't-tweee!♫"

"Thank you," Gwen purred, and the robin flitted away.  It would seem the visiting witches were "drawing nigh," as the robin had put it.  Robins are known for their flowery prose.

"♫Chit!  Chit!  Chit!  C'weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-weet!♫"

"Enough!" Gwen barked, rolling her eyes.  Somewhere high in the oak a red squirrel was vociferously freaking out, making a fool of him or herself, and expressing his or her displeasure with the very idea of human witches who were not Nimue wandering around the Green Wood unmolested.  "Nobody asked you!" Gwen added, also in a shout.

"♫Chak!♫" the squirrel replied, then scampered higher up into the oak.

The squirrel's parting shot had been a decidedly rude and impolite expletive, but Gwen chose not to be offended.  Squirrels!  What can you do?  They're nothing but furry buggers, the lot of them.  She swung her right leg over the branch, dropped towards the forest floor, and lightly landed on her soft-soled boots.

Sure enough, the trio of humans were just emerging from the more distant oaks and coming into view.  They were still too far away for Gwen to make out many details, but were close enough to see that all three were dressed in truly outlandish costumes and not the full-length, black velvet frocks with long, drooping sleeves that were accepted attire for human witches.  It was... bizarre.

"♫Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh!♫"

A female fairy was clinging to the far side of a leaf on a maple several yards to Gwen's right and peeking around the edge at Gwen.  Wood elves have sharp eyes, and can even find fairies who are making halfhearted efforts to hide.  (Especially after the fairies in question have announced themselves with a trill of existential angst.)

Gwen rolled her eyes, again, but smiled.  She'd decided tact was called for.

"I told you," she said gently, just loud enough to be heard.  "I warned you.  You all agreed to give the humans a chance."

"♫Straaaaange dresses!♫"

Gwen shrugged.  "I quite agree, but I'm sure The Lady will sort them out."

There was a musical whirring sound, the fairy's wings became an iridescent blur, and she flitted away and was gone.

Meanwhile, the humans were now much closer... and Gwen recognized the tallest of the three!

"Cassaaaaandra!" Gwen squealed, scampered down the path at full speed, and leaped into Cassie's arms!

"Hello, Gwĕnhyvær," Cassie chuckled as she closed her eyes and hugged the little elf.  "It's so good to see you."

"She didn't tell me!" Gwen huffed.  "She didn't tell me you were coming!  I mean, she told me you were coming, but she didn't tell me you were coming!"

"I'm sure The Lady has her reasons," Cassie purred.  "She always does."

"She should have told me," the pouting wood elf sighed.

Hermione's wand had been halfway out of her jacket pocket, but her smile returned and she let it slide back into place.  Clearly, the decidedly petite redhead with the pointed ears and antlered crown wasn't a threat.  She turned her amused visage to Sabrina, who grinned back.

Sabrina leaned close and whispered one word: "Cute."

"Indeed," Hermione whispered back.  "I believe she is a wood elf."

"I am a wood elf," Gwen confirmed gravely as she swarmed up Cassie's upper body, settled onto her shoulders, slid her fingers into Cassie's hair, and took a gentle grip.  "I believe you are both humans."

Cassie laughed and grabbed Gwen's boot-clad ankles.  "Gwĕnhyvær of the wood elves," she purred, "allow me to introduce Hermione Granger and Sabrina Spellman."

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said as she reached up and shook Gwen's hand.

"Yeah," Sabrina chimed in as she stepped forward and also shook Gwen's hand.  "Pleased."

Gwen examined her hand with a rather dubious expression, then wiped it on the right thigh of her dark-green tights.  "Uh, yes, welcome to the Green Wood."

"♫Chit!  Chit!  Chit!  Chit!♫."  It was the red squirrel again.

Gwen rolled her eyes.  "Stuff your gob with nuts you minging squirrel!" she shouted, then pointed ahead down the path, clicked her tongue, and gently kicked her heels into Cassie's flanks.  "Tck-tck-tck!  The Lady awaits!"

Hermione and Sabrina exchanged another smile, then scrambled to catch up as Cassie stepped off at a brisk pace.

"Weeeeeeeeeee..." Gwen exclaimed as she swayed and rocked atop her tall, beautiful, literally bewitching mount.

About two very scenic miles later, Hermione was seriously considered begging for a pause so she could change out of her high-heeled pumps and into her hiking boots, but decided to soldier on.  She'd probably have to cast a healing spell and rub a charmed salve on her feet at some time tonight, but for now... she'd survive.  Besides, Cassie was also wearing high-heel pumps and seemed to be having absolutely no difficulty whatsoever.  Hermione didn't want to appear weak and whiny.

Finally, Nimue's cottage in all its quaint beauty came into view.  Hermione and Sabrina were very impressed.  Sabrina was doing her best to downplay her reaction, of course, but Hermione wasn't fooled.

Suddenly, before they entered the clearing, Gwen called a halt—"Hut!"—stood on Cassie's shoulders, reached for the sky with both hands, and leaped for the lowest branch of the green canopy overhead.  "La-ter!" she called, then leaped from branch to branch and scampered away, soon disappearing into the green, sun-dappled shadows.

Cassie smiled at her companions and they continued forward.

Nimue met her guests at the garden gate.  "Welcome!" she said, smiling a broad smile (that was especially directed at Cassie).  "Please enter and be my guests."

Cassie stepped forward and exchanged a kiss with their hostess—"Oh!—which quickly became a very long kiss... a very long, deep, wet kiss.

This gave Sabrina and Hermione time to exchange mildly surprised and rather embarrassed smiles.  Sabrina cocked an eyebrow in question.  Hermione replied with a blush and what she very much hoped was a tiny shrug that would go unnoticed by their lip-locked elders.

Finally, Cassie (also blushing) pushed away from their hostess and smiled.  "Stop!" she whispered, then indicated her fellow visitors with a graceful flip of the wrist.  "Nimue, allow me to introduce Hermione Granger and Sabrina Spellman.  Hermione is from the Ministry of Magic."

Nimue smiled at Hermione, and for a reason she was totally at a loss to explain, Hermione found herself furiously blushing while simultaneously trying not to giggle!  She's beautiful, Hermione mused.  In fact... she's GLORIOUS!  A very naughty shiver of delight passed between Hermone's legs as Nimue continued her penetrating gaze.

"Behave," Cassie whispered in an aside to Nimue (who still had an arm around her waist).

"Your aura is very interesting, Minister Granger," Nimue purred.

Somehow, Hermione's blush actually intensified as she dropped a quick (and uncharacteristically clumsy) curtsy.  "Thank you, My Lady, but I'm only a representative of Minister Shacklebolt, who, of course, personally instructed me to convey his warmest greetings."

Nimue's green eyes twinkled with amusement.  "You are 'only a representative' at the moment, Miss Granger, but in any case, please return my greetings to Kingsley."  She turned to Cassie.  "He is such a dear boy."  She then shifted her gaze to Sabrina, and abruptly her eyes narrowed and she frowned, but only for a moment.  Nimue's smile returned.

Sabrina smiled back (and tried to ignore her rapidly beating heart).  There was power in the air, great power, and it radiated from the Lady of the Lake.

"They were right to send her," Nimue whispered in an aside to Cassie (that was easily overheard by both Sabrina and Hermione).  She then took a firm grip on Cassie's left hand, turned, and led the way into the cottage.

Sabrina and Hermione exchanged a slightly discomforted glance, then scrambled to follow.

"Now, as you are witches in the Green Wood, your proper and expected attire is a witch's gown.  It is also acceptable for you to go sky-clad, of course, if you so prefer.  I have placed appropriate clothing in the wardrobes of your bedrooms."

Hermione had been framing a series of compliments about the cottage's charming decor, but put them on hold.  Her blush had returned, in spades.  Sky-clad?  Naked?  She turned to Sabrina, who returned her mortified frown with, of all things, a saucy smile and a wink!  Hermione's head snapped back to face the front (with a flounce of her chestnut curls) and she found herself in a bit of a huff.  Well, I like that!  Bloody Yank!  Sabrina was a devilishly cute bloody Yank, but still, some degree of concern for propriety is to be expected.

They'd reached a hallway down which they could see several doors, two of which were open.

"I'm sure you're tired from your journey," Nimue purred, her smile still focused on Cassie, "so why don't you girls settle into your rooms, change, and enjoy a nice nap while Cassandra and I catch up?  I promise to wake you for tea."

Before Hermione could politely decline her hostess' kind suggestion—"Eeeeeeeee!"—she was lifted off her feet and found herself flying backwards down the hallway!  She crossed the threshold of one of the open doors and entered a charming bedroom!  It was all happening very quickly, but Hermione could see Sabrina had met a similar fate and was flying across the threshold of the second open door!

Hermione's door slammed as she continued flying across the bedroom... and she bounced onto a soft bed covered by a truly charming quilt.  She scrambled off the bed and onto her now stocking-clad feet.  Near the end of her airborne sojourn her high-heeled pumps had abandoned her feet and had landed on the wooden floor with a clatter.  Hermione padded back to the closed door... and blinked in amazement.

The door was more than closed!  The door was no longer a door!  The frame, hinges, door, and latch were now fused together, as if someone had carved a three-dimensional fake door into the wooden wall!  All things considered, it was a very clever spell... or sequence of spells... or compound spell... or matrix of charms and spells.

Hermione reached for her inside pocket... then sighed.  It was only logical that she should stay her wand, at least for now.  Hermione could feel an aura of power emanating from the wall and its "pretend" door.  She strongly suspected it would require doing great violence to the very fabric of the cottage in order to free herself, and given Nimue's vast experience, knowledge, and power (which certainly rivaled and probably exceeded the late Professor Dumbledore's) it wasn't at all a sure thing that she'd prevail.  Besides... Nimue might have "eccentric" ideas about what constituted courtesy, but Hermione was her guest.  Best to wait for the door to return to being a door... when it was time for the promised tea.

By the lack of earthshaking explosions from across the now inaccessible hall, Hermione could only assume Sabrina had reached the same conclusion.  Either that or the cottage had very good soundproofing.

Cassie had not been shown to her guest bedroom.  She was standing in the hallway and doing her best to make her displeasure known to her hostess while (1) trying not to leer at Numue's gorgeous red hair, equally gorgeous freckled face, green eyes, or her lightly freckled breasts as they bulged against the confines of the bodice of her black velvet frock; or (2) breaking into laughter.

Cassie's crossed her arms under her breasts and managed to affect a stern smile.  "Nimue!" she scolded.  "Minister Granger, indeed!  Casual prophesy is rude and dangerous."

"Tosh," Nimue chuckled.  "The only way that charming young witch could get a swelled head is literally, if she dropped her guard and allowed someone to cast a spell.  Besides, it was more an observation than a prophecy.  Clearly, Hermione Granger is destined for greatness... if you call shepherding a milling, squabbling, ungrateful clowder of inferior witches and wizards greatness."

Cassie's smile became less disapproving.  She couldn't help herself.  "You look beautiful, My Lady."

Much to Cassie's surprise, Nimue actually blushed.

"You are also beautiful," Nimue sighed, "for a thankless young whelp."  She then pulled Cassie into another embrace (which Cassie returned) and they repeated their greeting kiss.  As before, the kiss was long, deep, and wet, and this time it included tongue.

Finally, the witches came up for air.  Cassie relaxed, but Nimue still held Cassie in her arms.

"You've been away far too long, Cassandra," Nimue sighed.  "Don't you love me?"

Cassie's smile became a grin.  "Of course I love you.  One would think a thousand-year-old witch would be beyond pining after her casual crushes like a moon-eyed girl."

Nimue sniffed.  "I am not a thousand years old," she huffed.  "I'm older.  Anyway..."  She kissed Cassie's left cheek.  "You're here now."

"Yes, I am, Cassie agreed.  "Now, I think it's time for you to stop teasing the girls and—Eeeeeeee!"

Like Hermione and Sabrina before her, Cassie was lifted off her feet by unseen hands and found herself flying through the cottage at high speed, but this time the destination was Nimue's thaumaturgical/alchemical laboratory and not one of the guest bedrooms!  Also, rather than finding herself bouncing onto a soft bed, Cassie was hovering in midair with all four limbs outstretched!  Her high-heeled pumps dropped from her feet and clattered to the floor.  At the same time, every button and fastener of her clothing snapped open and every element of her ensemble fluttered and flapped from her body and/or slithered down her limbs—including her jacket, blouse, skirt, bra, panties, garter-belt, and stockings!  Despite Cassie's struggles, her body rearranged itself as required to allow the disrobing... then she snapped back into the involuntary spreadeagle.

All of this happened so quickly that Cassie only had time for a single protest before the last of her clothing left her body.  "Nimue!"  She continued squirming and struggling.

Nimue casually strolled from the hallway and rejoined her now naked guest in her laboratory, smiling brightly as she drank in the sublime vision of Cassie's smooth, tan, exquisitely nude body.  "Oh, stop being tiresome," she purred, and made an arcane gesture with her right hand.

Cassie's panties lifted from the clutter of "discarded" clothing at her splayed feet, shook itself out, then flew straight to her mouth, where it compacted into a wad and forced its way inside!  "Nrrrf!"  Cassie's stockings followed.  Her right stocking waited patiently while the left slithered like a silky snake around Cassie's head and mouth, formed a cleave-gag, and tightened!  "Mrrrf!"  It then knotted itself at the nape of her neck and the right stocking followed suit, only this time forming itself into a tight, translucent, over-the-mouth gag.  "Mrrr-mm?"

Midway through Cassie's well-muffled complaint, her panties had demonstrated a formerly unsuspected ability to change from silky, black, size 5 bikinis into plus-size "granny-panties!"  That lasted until Cassie stopped trying to speak, then the panties immediately shrank back down to size 5.  Lesson learned: gag-talk was not to be allowed.

"No, I'm not being selfish," Nimue pouted as she made another gesture.  "How could you even think that, you incorrigible tease?"

As Nimue delivered her smiling rebuke, two strands of hemp rope dropped from the rafters and two more lifted from the floor.  With blinding speed they wrapped around Cassie's wrists, hands, fingers, ankles, feet, and toes... wove themselves into tight, highly intricate sheaths... then snapped taut!  Cassie grimaced and moaned through her gag.  She was now stringently spreadeagled and doubly suspended, once by Nimue's levitating spell and again by her magic ropes!

Nimue strolled forward, smiled, reached between Cassie's splayed legs, and cupped her labia.  Cassie shivered and whined through her gag in response, then shivered even more when Nimue's hand began a slow, gentle caress.  Then, Cassie squealed through her gag!  "Eeeeee!"  Nimue's index finger had parted her nether-lips, slid inside her pussy, and the massage was continuing!

"Oh, Cassandra," Nimue purred, "you didn't even try and defend yourself just now.  Is it because you know it would be pointless, or because you want me to do this?"

Both! Cassie mentally screamed as she tugged on her bonds and continued to quake with pleasure.  It's both!

"I thought so," Nimue chuckled.  She continued her slow, gentle frigging of Cassie's clitoris and labia, leaned close, and gave each of Cassie's now erect nipples a wet, languid lick with her pink tongue.

Cassie's eyes were now clenched tightly closed, so she couldn't see the weak, flickering tendrils of blue fire rising from her saliva-glistening nipples and increasingly moist, quivering pussy—but she could certainly feel the magic!  The flames burned, but didn't consume.  They tingled, teased, and titillated!  Nimue's witchcraft was dazzling!

Abruptly, Nimue withdrew her hand and took three steps back.

Cassie opened her eyes and stared at her hostess with hungry brown eyes.  Her nostrils flared, her firm, perfect breasts heaved as she panted for breath, and her tan, smooth, flawless skin glowed with perspiration.  The orgasm Nimue had extracted had been draining, and Cassie knew it was only the beginning.

Cassie frowned as she became aware of rustling sounds emanating from several different places around the laboratory, up in the exposed rafters, down near the floor, and among the cluttered worktables and book and equipment laden shelves.  Then, her brown eyes popped wide!  Living vines were slithering both up and down the suspending ropes and towards her pinioned body!  She flinched when the first green tendrils from the rafters touched her rope-imprisoned fingers, hands, and wrists and continued down her arms.  At the same time, vines from the floor touched her rope-imprisoned toes, feet, and ankles and started winding around and up her legs!

The prisoner of magic and ropes shivered in distress.  The vines' fringed, fluttering, arrow-head-shaped leaves tickled!  More seriously, the vines had long, sharp thorns, and they hurt!  The tiny woody spines visibly scratched and pricked her tan, sweaty skin.  Thin, pink, sinuous tracts developed as the vines squirmed and slithered towards her torso, but not a drop of blood was shed.  And as for the pain, it was... complicated.  As quickly as the scratches formed, the leaves in the immediate vicinity glowed blue and the damage healed!  The thorns and luminous leaves left waves of teasing, titillating pleasure-pain in their wake... and this continued as the vines wound themselves around Cassie's thighs, rump, back, waist, shoulders, and breasts.

This is advanced play, Cassie thought with the tiny fraction of her mind not overwhelmed by Nimue's erotic sorcery.  She was right to send the youngsters to their rooms.

Nimue smiled, breathed deeply, and trembled with pleasure of her own as she watched Cassie squirm, writhe, tug on her bonds, and shiver.

The vines tightened (especially around Cassie's breasts) and in more than a dozen places, trumpet-shaped clusters of blue flowers blossomed.  She continued struggling as delicate tendrils of blue fire began flickering across her tan, stretched, glistening skin.

And then, tiny little spherical motes of blue light began emerging from the vine blossoms, one at a time.  They drifted in the air... merging and growing larger and brighter... and now their blue light was not faint.  They shone like blue lamps.  And then, a dozen brightly glowing motes began sliding across Cassie's body and caressing her skin.  Tiny dim motes continued emerging from the flowers, merging and brightening, and joining the fray.  Twelve motes became twenty, then forty, and Cassie's "ordeal" continued.

Cassie was in obvious distress.  (Or was it ecstasy?)  She tugged on her bonds, twisted and turned, and whined through her panty-gag.  The motes continued weaving random trails around and across her helpless body... then, they began concentrating on her breasts, nipples, armpits, ears, the backs of her knees, her tummy, ribs, thighs, and pussy!  Blue fire continued dancing across her sweaty, writhing form.

Meanwhile, the blue blossoms closed, changed to green, began to swell, then split open and sprouted clusters of blue berries.  Nimue plucked a berry from a cluster, popped it in her mouth, chewed, then clenched her green eyes and squealed with delight.  "Ahhhhh!  There's nothing in all the Realms as delightfully scrummy as frustration-infused boinkberries.  I'll have to bake these into a pie for the girls."  She winked at Cassie.  "We won't tell them where they came from, of course."

Whether or not Cassie had heard Nimue's baking plans was unclear.  She was too busy grimacing, writhing, shivering, whining, and sweating.

"Don't you dare cum, Cassandra," Nimue purred, licking her lips with her blue-stained tongue.  "This is only foreplay, and it's at least three hours 'til teatime."