At the beginning, Agatha had wondered how people lived like this. No magic, no fun, it was as if the world had been sucked of its colour and sparkle. She hated it. She had to learn everything the hard way and Agatha always had a lazy streak. She spent the first year of her new life in shock, finding out that it was much harder to land on your feet with no magic. She missed the sparks that swirled around her when she made things go her own way, so sharpening her other skills became a priority. She mourned the loss of her pinstripe power suit, the outfit that marked her separate from her twin. That was gone. She had to find a new style. She could have been a great CEO if she'd put her mind to it but she truly did not care about the business of a non-magical all that much. As she roamed about the planet trying to find her way, she chanced upon a profession, quite by accident, that invigorated her, made her feel powerful again, gave her back what she'd lost.

It started out small, talking dirty to clients over the phone. Her favourites were the shy ones. They were the most fun to unravel in their desire for humiliation and submission. Sometimes they just wanted to talk about their day or listen to her sparkling wit. She felt rejuvenated when each session had finished, like she was draining their life blood. It frustrated her that in this new life, she was incapable of doing more damage than that without going to prison. It wasn't long before she'd started setting up meetings for clients in bars, renting rooms for them to make their fantasies come to life. Not all of it was filth.

She thought she'd seen it all by now; high powered businessmen, bored housewives, amputees and the occasional student but the person that she met in the bar that night was the biggest shocker of all. Seated by the specified table was one Hecate Hardbroom; long dark hair cascading down her back, lips pulled tight and looking very wary with a sensible glass of orange juice in front of her. Agatha could bet that there was no vodka in it. There was a smidgeon of fear in her eyes when she glanced up at her date, knowing that Agatha's smile would be one of triumph. She'd used a false name.

'Well well well. Fancy seeing you here.'

Hecate did not respond for a while. She let Agatha speak although her words dripped with poison. She needed to think about how to phrase her request. She hated acknowledging how attractive Agatha was but needs must. She'd been playing with the business card for three months, debating on how she should handle the situation. She was at breaking point and Agatha knew it, otherwise she wouldn't be seeking her out.

'My dear sister hasn't been treating you kindly, has she?'

Hecate stiffened, hating that she'd given herself away.

'Ada is unnecessarily kind to almost everyone' mused Agatha, swirling her martini reflectively, one arm snaked around the back of Hecate's chair. 'Apart from me. And you.'

Hecate looked shocked.

'She is the kindest person of all to me.'

It was the first time she had spoken.

'I can imagine on one level she is. You lack friendship, my dear' said Agatha with a glint in her eye. She sipped her martini and enjoyed the hurt flash across Hecate's face.

'Nobody will befriend you like Ada has. I used to think you were content with that. Or you were all those years ago. Spending your evenings drinking tea, playing chess, fondling your familiars.'

Agatha tone held a thread of steel and Hecate flinched; double innuendo not lost on her. She wasn't that unworldly.

'I thought perhaps you were just frigid. I didn't realise you had such an unrequited crush on my mousy sister.'

Hecate's face flushed with shame and knew she should just leave. She had a perfectly clear memory of what had happened between them when Agatha was co-headmistress, every touch, every whisper. She'd tried to entice her over to a place she'd not wanted to go but Hecate was firm in her loyalty to Ada. At the time, she'd been repelled by Agatha's serpent charms. But now she seemed rooted to the spot, needing to hear what Agatha had to say. She knew if she left now, she'd combust with frustration that night. And she was finally ready to admit that after so long, she now felt tempted to consider the attraction.

'I concede that I can never fully gain your trust. But I think I know what you are here for.'

Hecate looked over at her glass, expression unreadable.

'How is life in the non-magical world treating you?'

Agatha shrugged.

'Not bad, considering. The first year I was a wreck.' She didn't mind telling her that. 'I found my niche in the end.'

A successful one, thought Hecate. Mistress Agatha was popular. Hecate had done her research.

'I can tell you've done your research.' Agatha looked smug. As she might well be. Hecate was a very thorough person. You could count on her to do the job properly. One of the qualities that made her most attractive.

'So what can I do you for? A little light bondage? A bit of spanking? Or something a lot harder than what Ada would give you?' She asked lightly, draining her martini.

'Please, don't speak her name.'

Hecate had drawn herself up again, drawn herself in, looked severe.

'I know what you want. You want what she won't give you. You must have been panting over her for years and she's still too oblivious to see it.'

She leaned over and sipped at Hecate's glass. No vodka.

'You're relentlessly sensible. Sometimes I admire that. Sometimes I think you're a fool. But no matter. I won't charge you. It gives me enough satisfaction to know that my perfect sister has failed at something. I'm sure she could give you some of what you want. But not all of it. I'd love to help with the rest.'

She leaned back over, perfume tickling Hecate's senses. Unable to resist, Hecate could detect spicy vanilla and orchid. There was no going back now.

'In case you were wondering, we're not exactly identical. Unless she's hiding a tattoo I don't know about under those pink fluffy layers.'

'I told you not to mention her.'

Hecate's tone was low and dangerous. Agatha smiled delightedly. She was hoping to utilise that side of her. She wouldn't trust any of her clients to relinquish control to. But for Hecate Hardbroom…she just might.

She brushed her finger down the other woman's neck and to under her bust, noting the shiver that took over. She was in no doubt that she could conduct a successful quickie before dinner. The other woman would take anything she'd give her.

'Have it your way. We won't mention her again. You can imagine her if you want. I don't mind.'

She truly didn't. She wasn't completely heartless. She cared that Hecate got what she wanted because nobody deserved to cling onto their repression. If Hecate wanted to imagine it was dull, asexual Ada charged up on personality potion, she wouldn't stop her.

So Hecate did. Slammed up against the wall of the mercifully empty cloakroom where she could pretend that Ada was slipping her fingers down her knickers and up inside her. The rough unbuttoning of her blouse; the swift slide across her breasts, tantalising the painfully attentive nipples, she was ready for it. That slight brush of a thumb against her quivering clit; the slight pressure of those strong fingers against her mouth (identical hands), her muffled exclamations of pleasure trickling through, all told Agatha that her client was ready to combust if she didn't get what she needed. She was experienced in alleviating that, but this was no ordinary client. But gone were the days of blackmail. She had no power in her old life anymore, her satisfaction at double crossing her sister was limited but knowing that she was getting her revenge in secret, was enough for her. Agatha felt owed that.

Hecate was left raw and wrung out. The room span and her knees almost buckled but the other woman caught her in time, slid Hecate's own black silk handkerchief out of her sleeve to clean up with. She was thankful to be steadied against the wall, Agatha inexplicably making her feel safe, even in the depths of her shame of her desire. Except, she was reminded, that this wasn't Ada. The imposter's touch was surprisingly tender, her arms steady, her embrace warm. Hecate fell into her and let herself be soothed until her heart stopped racing.

'Why don't you let me take care of you?'

From that point on, she'd refused to feel like she was doing something wrong.

Agatha in turn, felt an unexpected tenderness for the lonely supressed woman clutching onto her. Later in the evening she worked out her irritation (via punchbag) towards her oblivious, fluffy cardiganed sister whose most voracious pleasure was a packet of chocolate hobnobs. Some people were just so dense. Agatha believed in taking every opportunity that came her way and Hecate had impressed her. She had wholeheartedly chosen Ada for her future, to save the school and her job and Agatha had begrudgingly respected that. Without regretting her choice, she had ascertained that she needed more in her life but was not able to get it with the one person she wanted it from. Not willing to wait any longer, Hecate had taken charge to fulfil her fantasies. After that first meeting, Agatha knew that no matter how much Miss Hardbroom pined over Ada, she wasn't the sister who could give her what she wanted and that spurred her on to give the woman what she deserved. After that realisation, the anger towards her sister had subsided, a little more each time she'd had the pleasure of Hecate's company. Even that bitter twist in her guts lessened over time. There was now someone else who consumed her thoughts.