A great many things could be found in the western strawberry meadows.

Golden summer sunlight streamed down from the western skies, casting pretty reflections off of the dewy plants that blanketed the meadow and bathing the meadow in the last kiss of the day. The strawberry plants grew throughout the meadow, of course, lush and verdant, right in season, joyously celebrating the primes of their short existences. And interspersing the plants were, dotted here and there like irascible weeds, many dozens of gray stones--some wide and flat like tablets, some tall and hexagonal like basalt pillars, some broken, some intact, some rough and unhewn, some standing at waist height and some the size of a fingertip, some jutting from the earth and some lying half-immersed in the mud, but all inscribed with infinitesimal runes, runes of a tongue nobody around here wanted to speak.

Clover himself stood in the meadow as well, a fit, well-built dark-haired man of average height with a chiseled jaw and an unflinching gaze. His brow furrowed as he surveyed the clearing.

Many things could be found in the strawberry meadow. But one thing that could not be found in the strawberry meadow was a single ripe strawberry.

He knelt to inspect one of the little leafy plants. On this one there was only one little unripe white berry--a wispberry, as the villagers called them--and one fully ripe red strawberry that had, unfortunately, met the hungry end of a garden slug. He reached down and pushed the leaves back, eyes narrowing, searching in vain.

He straightened with a sigh, looking about the strawberry glade, and chewed his upper lip. This was not good.

Clover had had to harangue the elders for weeks to let him manage this patch of land, not to mention the money he'd had to borrow off of the Tailor sisters to cover the year's rent for it. He'd had to plead his case over and over that he could handle it, that he didn't need a partner, that the meadow wouldn't go to waste. Nevermind that nobody ever wanted to use these meadows anyways. Nevermind that he was 24, a grown man, and had been helping to maintain the fields of others for years, knew exactly what he was doing.

Everyone had implied he couldn't handle it on his own--that the glade was too far out, too close to the Runefield, too dangerous, even, that he'd get absent-minded and stay out too close to dark. They'd suggested he take a partner--even one of the Tailor sisters, as if he needed a girl a year younger to monitor him! But he had insisted he could handle it. Clover was a strong, capable man, and did not believe in asking for help when he could do something himself. He'd looked forward to rubbing it in everyone's face--especially those stuck-up Tailors.

And now... Clover grimaced, rising from what feld like the thirtieth plant he'd fruitlessly double-checked. Now it was nearly dusk, a week from the harvest festival, and there was nothing. Nothing at all.

But how could there be nothing? It didn't make sense! Cursing, he kicked at the dirt, sending clods of earth and rune-scribed pebbles flying across the meadow.

As the dirt settled, Clover gave a grumbling sigh. He walked over and stooped to retrieve his basket of carrots. He just wouldn't have any berries to share come festival. At least the carrots down the hill had done well, but he'd really hoped...

A rosy shadow swept over his surroundings, and a chilly wind sent his dark mid-length hair right into his eyes.

Sputtering, Clover looked up at the sky--and realized with a start that he had dallied too long.

Clover's eyes followed the sun's arc across golden clouds and descended to the outline of the distant western badlands. The bleed of the dusk sun had begun to flow swift across the horizon like waters filling a floodplane. Suddenly, the whole world was awash in a vivid pink glow glow.

Thinking fast. Clover snatched up the strawberry and straightened. He could come back tomorrow, maybe, but the last thing he needed was to get back to the village a half-hour after sundown and earn a lecture on top of everything else.

He turned to leave, not quite looking where he was going -

--and tripped over a protruding runestone.

Clover staggered and lunged out, his knuckles whitening around the protruding rock he grabbed to catch himself just in time.

Recovering his balance, the farmer hissed under his breath. He'd dropped the basket. Carrots lay spilled out over the ground around him now, as if they'd positively flung themselves away in their eagerness to make his life just a little bit harder.

He let out a groan and dropped to his knees. Damn it. Damn it!

He hastened to gather up what he could of the harvest. Clover wasn't too nervous about the setting sun--he'd never seen anything dangerous around this place before, and he had a dagger in his boot and a pair of strong arms if anything did try to mess with him. He was more dreading being caught getting home late and being expected to explain his meager harvest to the other villagers.

All the same, all his focus was on picking carrots out from the leafy undergrowth and tossing them back into the basket as quickly as he possibly could. And so he was caught quite by surprise when his gaze traveled up and he saw it.

At first, he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Perhaps the sunset was just very bright, Perhaps his vision was failing him. Perhaps it was just too dark too see clearly.

But... no. He squinted, surprised to find himself not so much scared as... puzzled. No, it was real, alright.

A swirling, roiling cloud of golden-pink mist was flooding through the forest from the west, rushing between the densely-packed trees like a great tidal rosy wave and spilling rapidly into the clearing.

Clover reached up and rubbed his eyes, then blinked again. Twice.

And then the mist was upon him.

Strangely, Clover felt no chill as it settled around him. He didn't smell anything, either, as far as he could tell. He frowned, worry warring with curiosity warring with simple confusion.

Strangest of all, within seconds his eyes seemed to have... adjusted. He could see everything around him without much of any obscurity. Were it not for the slight pink tint to everything, Clover might have doubted the mist existed at all.

Clover stared around him. He hesitated. Then he glanced down at the basket and resumed slowly retrieving carrots. This was... weird, he decided. It didn't seem dangerous, and he didn't feel worried, but... well, better retrieve what little he'd harvested and get back to the village quickly.

He grabbed the last carrot he could easily see, took a deep breath, and made to rise to his feet.

But then he paused.

Clover squinted. A glimmer of red had caught his eye, just a little towards the western edge of the clearing.

It couldn't be. But... he took a step closer, head tilting to the side. It was.

Resting there on the ground right in front of him, as peaceful as if it had been dropped there by a sleepwalking goddess, was a single perfect, ripe, plump strawberry.

"What the hell?" Clover muttered under his breath.

It wasn't attached to any plant. it was just... lying there, as if it had simply casually rolled away from the patch. But he was sure he would have remembered picking a berry like that.

It looked delicious. Flawless, even. It looked just as he'd expected the harvest to be a week ago: fully ripe, but still bearing the sheen that promised juicy, firm tartness.

Coming to stand over the berry, he reached down hesitantly and picked it up.

The berry looked perfectly unblemished. He twirled it around between his fingertips and marveled at how the faint rosy lighting seemed to shimmer off of it. There was not a bite. Not a mark. Not even any smudges of dirt.

It was the only berry he'd found, he reasoned subconsciously, licking his lips. It wasn't as if he could sell it.

So it felt quite perfectly natural to simply... pop it into his mouth.

The second Clover bit into it, his mind sparkled at flavors of utter sweetness. It was as sweet as the air he breathed, as juicy and plump as a cupid's kiss. It wasn't even a little tart, but he found that didn't detract from its delights one bit, and couldn't even remember why anyone would want a tart berry when sweetness could taste so spellbindingly good.

He gave a soft, unthinking sigh, savoring the taste of pure perfection. This was a perfect strawberry, and he was almost floating in clouds as he slowly chewed and allowed the juice to burst onto his tongue. Clover no longer felt so hurried at all. He wanted to take time to enjoy this this; it was probably going to be the only strawberry he found this harvest, after all.

Except...

Clover's eyes opened. He hadn't even realized he'd closed them, and he felt slightly embarrassed--until he noticed something on the ground just a bit ahead of him, just at the western edge of the strawberry patch.

It was another strawberry. Ruby-red. Plump and perfectly ripe.

His mouth watered.

After a moment's hesitation, and a deep breath to make sure he was being sensible, that he wasn't being reckless, that he was getting enough air to make smart decisions, Clover walked forward slowly, cautiously, and bend over to pick up the strawberry.

Clover's head flicked to the side. He'd almost thought he heard a voice in his ear for a moment. A faint, honeyed whisper of words he couldn't quite make out. But there was no one there.

He bit his lip, momentarily ill at-ease. He looked down at the strawberry there on the ground, inches from his hand. So luscious. So ripe. Such a pretty shade of red, glimmering so invitingly in the misty dusk light.

It wasn't as if he was going to be able to sell it, he reasoned. It was just one strawberry. Hadn't he grown it? Didn't he have the right to enjoy it? He'd probably just picked it and forgotten about it. It explained why the green calyces had been removed from this one, just like the last.

There was no harm in tasting it. It probably wasn't even that good. He licked his lips. He might as well, right?

No sooner was the berry in his hand than it was popped into his mouth.

And he almost moaned. Oh, gods. It was just as wonderful and sweet as the last. Normally such sweetness would be saccharine, especially for a grown man, but... saccharinity tasted so wonderful somehow, and it was so juicy and firm... and there was no harm in it, was there?

No. Of course not. He smiled as he swallowed the delectable fruit, mind sparkling with happiness at the perfect taste. He wouldn't be able to sell these, so at least he could enjoy the couple that...

He blinked.

Just a few feet outside the meadow, continuing in the same direction as the last...

... was another ripe red strawberry. It lay there on the ground, nestled safely amid a small cluster of rune-covered pebbles, nice and easy to spot.

Clover took a deep breath in, trying to settle a slight dizziness he felt. He felt dimly as though there was some reason he shouldn't--felt dimly some sort of annoyance, or frustration, or embarrassment, at what the villagers would say if they could see him here. There was something that one Tailor girl had said, in particular... something about... oh, what was it?

But he was already stepping outside the patch.

He scoffed, licking his surprisingly dry lips. As if he'd let some girl dictate his actions. He came out here all the time. What difference did it make if he took a step or two off the path? He knew where he was going. He knew what he was doing.

Besides, it was only one more strawberry, he reasoned to himself. He walked over, slowly, languid in his footsteps, and plucked up the beautiful red berry from where it had fallen.

Briefly, Clover almost thought he heard that voice again as he did so. A sweet, wispy voice, delicate and feminine, whispering two words.

"Good boy~"

Again, he looked around. And again, he saw nothing. He hesitated, then looked back down at the berry.

He marveled briefly at its perfection, then, with a smile as he anticipated the flavors, popped the strawberry into his mouth.

Dazzling pleasure poured through him like trickling syrup as he chewed. His eyelids fluttered. Gods, these were fantastic. He'd had no idea what an amazing strawberry farmer he was, but he was sure he never wanted to grow anything but strawberries from now on.

And he'd already spotted another strawberry.

He knew he probably shouldn't. The villagers would disapprove. It was rash. But... but it looked so tasty, and...

... it wasn't like anyone had to know, he reasoned. He didn't have to tell anyone he'd strayed a little.

"That's right," he thought he heard a lady whispering from behind him. "No harm in one more~"

It wasn't like he couldn't handle himself. A lazy smirk spread across his face as he walked over to the next berry, his footsteps a little clumsy, almost stumbling over a small boulder as he went. He was perfectly... capable. He was a grown man, after all. Just a few more steps off the safe trails couldn't hurt any.

He nodded confidently to himself and continued, bent over, and bit into the strawberry. He almost squirmed at how delicious this one was, licked his lips to catch the juices dribbling out. It was heavenly. Forget a cupid's kiss, this was like an angel's kiss. Only an angel could be so sweet. So perfect.

"Mmm, so sweet," cooed the phantom voice. The voice was so soft and delicate. So sultry and seductive. So easy to allow to drift just out of his focus, to not worry about too much...

His eyes strayed to the next berry, this one nestled amid some pretty wild primroses. He wasn't even finished with the last berry as he began wandering over dreamily towards it.

And then the next. Then the next.

Clover continued through the fog, footstep after heavy, plodding footstep, led along by the trail of sweet berries. His spirits seemed to grow lighter with every berry he ate, his worries quieter, dimmer, foggier, less important with every breath he took in of the sweet, pink mist. And the soft, girlish voice in his head just continued to encourage him, just faintly enough that he supposed it must be in his head, but so sweet, so inviting...

"No harm in straying a little, is there?" the voice reasoned. "You're just investigating something interesting!"

"Best to... investigate..." he mumbled to himself, laughing softly, sure it was his own idea. He knew he was too strong-willed to be influenced by anyone else, after all. The voice was clearly in his head. He bent over and ate up another delectable strawberry, sighing in dreamy bliss as the juices spilled from his mouth, as he sucked his fingers clean of every trace of the addictive flavors.

He almost wondered why he'd even been worried about coming out here, actually. He found himself smiling smugly at the thought. As if anyone or anything was out here that could threaten him. He picked up a particularly inviting little pile of strawberries--five berries, so very neatly stacked into a little pyramid, left there as if waiting for him--and began eating them hungrily, messily, as he continued, on, looking for the next strawberry, the next gift from the forest, the next whisper of sweet praise in his ear...

Clover frowned. He kept stumbling on ahead, but in his murky, blurry mind, he began to wonder why he couldn't see any more berries nearby.

He kept walking in the same direction nevertheless, just to be sure. Surely there should be... surely the trail wouldn't just stop, right? There had to be more.

His pace sped up a little. The angelic voice was gone, too. He felt lonely without it, even though obviously it had just been his imagination. He breathed in deep, trying to steady his worries.

So much felt odd about this, but his mouth watered, craving just one more sweet strawberry. Just one more little taste. There had to be at least one more, had to be--

Clover tripped over a protruding runestone and fell facefirst into another grassy sunlit meadow.

Just as quick, he clambered to his feet, gazing up in confusion, his mind cleared slightly at the sheer jolt.

Even though the sun was setting, this meadow was quite brightly-lit, lit in a soft, girly rosy-pink glow as if from many unseen nightlights.

And though he didn't see any more berries--and was starting to wonder why he'd let himself crave them with such a strange intensity--he wasn't alone in the clearing.

At the center of the little meadow there was a humble little stone well. Unusually for a well, however, it stood at the top of a slight slope. Clover's brow wrinkled. Was that a ley well? The loci for fey were rarely seen in the Northern Reaches a cursed land, and everyone knew where the ley wells that did exist were.

This one looked curious. The stones seemed to be etched with something--runes, maybe, just like everything else around here. But Clover wasn't really able to focus too much on that.

Especially since there was an incredibly pretty girl standing right atop the slope, her back to him, her prodigious butt sticking out slightly from beneath her short dress as she bent over the well as if to retrieve something.

She was... in his dreamy, addled state, Clover struggled to put it into words. She was beautiful. Breathtaking. Spellbinding, even. Her honey-golden curls spilled down over slim, supple shoulders, bared by the lovely, revealing pink dress she wore. Her form was incredibly curvy, all the more noticeably so for her very short stature--she was barely taller than a goblin maid.

She bent over a little further, humming softly, and her dress rose up to the point that Clover--realizing that there was nothing under that dress, nothing concealing her gorgeous, perfect bubble butt, her skin shining so beautifully in the dusky light--just couldn't help himself.

He gasped.

And as the fair maiden turned, he saw her eyes.

She blinked down at him from atop the slope, her eyes as pure a gold as honey, twin oceans of thick, molten amber. She had thick, dark lashes, and beestung lips painted a bright, hot pink. Her pretty pink dress had an almost embarrassing girliness to it, only heightened by the cute little heart-shaped blue earrings she wore. The dress had a very low-cut neckline, baring vast, enticing, flawless cleavage to seemingly encourage a shameless, wanton gaze. Her breasts almost seemed to shimmer in the evening light.

And those pretty lips parted in a graceful little 'o' shape as she looked down at him, clearly surprised. But not... quite as surprised as he felt like she should be, Clover thought with a trace of puzzlement as he stared dumbly up at her.

Then those fulsome pink lips parted in a big smile. And it was the most radiant, beautiful smile he'd ever seen, and Clover's heart gave a funny little flutter.

"Ooh, hiiii!" she cooed, swinging the pail behind her back as she twirled to face him. The pail sloshed with something that sounded thick and syrupy. She beamed. "Gosh, aren't you a cutie! What's your name?"

He stared stupidly up at her, then down at those beautiful, shining breasts, and breathed in deep of the sweet air around them. He felt oddly unsteady right now. Her voice sounded so sweet and familiar. "Um..." He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. "C-Clover, um, Miss." He flushed. He wasn't sure what to call her. 'Miss' had just seemed to pop into his head. "What, um..."

"Awww!~!" she exclaimed, her coo like a sweet song to his dizzy brain. "Silly boy, you can just call me Mimi!" She winked. "Or Miss Mimi, if you like~"

Clover glared. "I-I'm not..." He trailed off, realizing it would almost make him seem even more silly and petulant to argue over it.

But Mimi seized on this hesitation, looking delighted. "Not what, cutiepie?" she asked sweetly, tilting her head to one side. "Not silly?"

"N-No," he muttered, grimacing at how, indeed, petulant and childish it sounded. "I'm... I'm just picking strawberries."

She looked around. He did, too--looked up and down her body, looked at her gorgeous tits and her curvy hips, the way her dress hugged her relatively narrow waist. He bit his lip. Gods, she was a vision. His mouth was getting dry, and dimly, he wondered if maybe he could get a drink from that well behind her...

Then she looked back down at him, and his eyes shot back to hers as she exclaimed, her eyes wide and innocent, "Gosh, I don't see any strawberries here at all!" She giggled. "Do you, cutiepie?"

"Um... no." He shifted from side to side, feeling embarrassed. "B-But... but there were... um..."

"Hm?" She cocked her head cutely to the other side, batting those big, thick lashes up at him.

Clover could feel his face getting red. He had no more strawberries to show her--not even the traces of their sticky juice on his licked-clean fingers! He swallowed. "Um. There... were..." His voice was turning into a sheepish little mumble as he ducked his head. How was this... this mere girl, this tiny, bubbly shortstack, so good at making him, a strong-willed, independent man, feel like he was being told off by a teacher or mentor or... or...

"Aw, I'm sure there was, sweetie," Mimi said soothingly, taking a swaying step towards him. He watched her tits jiggle, then looked up at her eyes, filled with warm, comforting trust. Clover felt a strange rush of relief that she believed him.

"Yes!" he said eagerly, worried she was just being condescending or trying to spare his feelings. "There--there were lots! Just... just lying in the path, and... erm..."

Mimi's ass swung to the left, then to the right, as she advanced down the slope towards him. Her whole body was so... so gorgeous and curvy and feminine...

'The path?" Mimi giggled, taking another step closer. Her tits jiggled with very step, bouncing temptingly, very, very hard to look away from, even even when her eyes were such a pretty swirling honey-gold. "Aww, were you trying to stay on the path? Silly boy, there's no path around here!"

"There's... I know..." Clover bit his lip, realizing his voice almost sounded a bit like a whine.

He took a hesitant step back. Something was off here. Why was he so... why was the world so... why was everything so... hazy and pink? "I-I mean, I know that," he stammered in addition. "But I don't... I don't think I should, um, let you come any closer, Miss." Why do I keep calling her Miss? "M-Mimi, I mean."

"Miss Mimi!" She beamed and preened. "Aww, that's so cute! Nobody's ever actually called me that before~" She took another step closer and curled her index finger towards him, beckoning. "C'mere, sweetie! I wanna show you something!"

Clover shook his head, swallowing. Gods, his mouth was so dry... "N-No, I... I, um..."

"Aww, silly boy," Mimi cooed. "Don't be scared!"

His cheeks heated up. "I-I'm not--"

"It's not like I can do anything to you, right?" She batted her eyelashes innocently, bouncing in place. "Cute little me? Gosh, you're sooo big and strong!"

"I... "

"Gosh, you must be twice my size," she cooed, taking another step closer, her hips swaying dramatically with every step, such a gorgeous, curvy ass so tightly contained in that girly pink dress. Clover's heart raced as his mind slowed down a little, his eyes watching her luscious curves slide within the dress's narrow confines. "Plus, I'm just, like, a girl, and you're a boy! You're gonna be stronger than me, aren't you?"

"R-Right," he mumbled, biting his lip. She was right, wasn't she? There was no way she could be any stronger than him! He was... like she said, he was a man, and she was just... just a girl.

"So that makes sense, doesn't it?" she purred. Her voice flowed like sweet syrup, drifting through the fog, wielding the fog, even, so both voice and fog were pouring into his ears with perfect sugary temptation, pure, sweet innocence. "There's, like, no way I could hurt you! So there's no reason to worry."

As she took another step closer, Mimi reached up and gave her tits a long, languorous, indulgent squeeze and bounce-bounce-bounce and beamed up at him. "I mean... gosh, look at me, baby... I'm clearly not any kind of threat, am I?"

"... r-right," he stammered, unable to help himself as 'look at me, baby' seemed to sink into him as a sultry purr, a seductive command, and he couldn't help but stare as her tits squeezed together, so soft, so squishy. Gods, they looked so... so very soft...

"And you're a boy," she cooed, giggling at his reaction and letting her breasts bounce free. "And boys are supposed to be strong, aren't they?" She blinked wide, curious honey eyes. "Aren't they?"

"Um. Right?" He swallowed. She asked as if she wasn't sure, as if it was in... question. But everyone knew that boys were stronger. Men. Men were stronger. Right? "Y-Yeah, men are, um, way stronger than girls."

"Girls might be smarter," she said happily, twirling a lock of pure golden hair between her fingers and bouncing on her tiptoes, her breasts jiggling beautifully, enticingly, making his heart race, "But boys are stronger. Everybody knows that!"

"Y... yeah." He nodded dizzily, breathing in deep. It was easy to match his breaths to the bouncing of her breasts. Rhythmic. Relaxing, even. "Girls are... um, smarter, but boys are... are stronger." He blinked. "W-Wait, um..."

"That's right!" Mimi gushed, bouncing in happiness. Clover's words melted into a sigh as he watched her breasts bounce. Bounce. Bounce-bounce-bounce. They looked so warm and pillowy and soft, and the air was so warm... and sweet... warm and soft and sweet... "You got it right! Ooh, you're a very clever boy, aren't you, baby?"

"Um. Yeah." He felt embarrassed, but wasn't sure why. It was a compliment... right? It was so nice to receive so much praise from Mimi, but everything felt so confusing, and that normally would have worried him, but...

... but...

... but... boys were stronger, right? Girls were... were smarter, Mimi said, but boys were stronger. He was a man. Why should he worry about a pretty lady like her?

It made sense. It felt good to think that. It felt easy and soft and sweet and warm and cozy, but... but still...

He frowned. "W-Wait," he mumbled, his voice surprisingly weak. He raised his voice slightly. "Wait. I--"

"Such a clever boy," Mimi gushed, taking a bouncy step closer and reaching down to squeeze her breasts again, to again let them squish together, showing off how big they were, how... soft they were... "Deserves a little reward, I think, for being so clever!"

Girls are smarter, boys are stronger.

Girls are smarter, boys are stronger.

"I... b-but... n-no..." He bit his lip. Something about the sentence had to be wrong, didn't it? Girls are smarter, boys are stronger. It echoed in his head in her angelic, sugary-sweet voice, and it sounded so, so easy to believe...

She paused.

"Well, you are a clever boy," Mimi said, blinking those big, beautiful eyes of hers, "Aren't you?"

He gazed at her breasts as she released them. Watched them bounce. Her dress seemed strangely... He frowned, staring at those breasts. He saw two little spots of wetness now. One over each breast.

As if she was... was...

"Um..." Mimi cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow patiently. "Sweetie?"

"Yes!" His eyes shot up to hers, and he felt his whole world spin at the rapid motion, felt his legs struggle and wobble beneath him. He took in a deep breath to steady himself. What was the question? He suddenly felt so very dizzy. Dazzled. Dehydrated, even. "Yes, um... um..."

"So we agree?" she said, fluttering her thick, dark lashes over those seas of endless honey up at him. She was very close now, Clover realized, and his mouth watered. She smelled so nice. Her perfume smelled so sweet and... intoxicating...

"A... agree?" he asked, confused. Then he felt his cheeks burn as he realized he'd given away that he'd lost track of the conversation.

"That you're a clever boy?" she said with a giggle. "Who deserves a prize for being so clever for me?"

"I..." He hesitated. "Um... I..." A prize? That sounded... nice, he thought. A prize from Mimi. Mimi was so petty, and she was so nice, and she was being so sweet to him. She was so pretty ad lovely and... and...

... he hesitated. Something about this still felt weird. Didn't it?

He tried to make sense of that feeling. The whole world was swimming in a rich, girly-pink light. It felt weirdly embarrassing to keep agreeing with her. Like he was letting her make the rules. That made sense, he supposed, since... since girls were smarter, right? And boys were stronger.

But something there still felt wrong, too. He bit his lip. Shouldn't... shouldn't he be arguing, or standing up for himself, or... or...

Seeing his hesitation, the pretty blonde giggled, a hand to her perfect beestung lips. "Aww, silly little boy, you're getting confused, aren't you?" she cooed. "You mean you don't think you're clever?"

"--No I'm not!" he blurted. Then he felt his cheeks get very, very hot. "I-I mean, I am! But I'm not confused! I just-- just--"

"So I'm right?" Mimi prompted, arching an eyebrow patiently. "You think I'm right, baby?"

Clover felt the fight deflate from him. He hesitated, one more moment, then hung his head. "Y... yes, Miss Mimi. I... I guess so..."

"Good boy!" Mimi cooed. Clover was taken aback by the delectable waves of pleasure that swept over him at those two words, and he shivered. "Gosh, you're soooo clever to just be doing what I say!" Her breasts jiggled and bounced before him. So soft. And her eyes were so pretty... "Because we all know that..."

She waited, and after a moment, Clover realized he was being prompted. Not wanting to seem dumb or confused again, he sheepishly mumbled, "Girls are smarter, boys are stronger."

Something still felt wrong about that sentence. But Mimi giggled and bounced and clapped her hands, so very happy, and seeing her so pleased with him made him so happy he forgot to be worried. Mimi was so pretty. It was so nice to make her happy with him.

And every time she bounced in delight, her breasts bounced, too, and seemed so, so close every time to bouncing right out of that pretty pink dress.

She was so pretty. So small compared to him. And boys were stronger, weren't they? She couldn't possibly be any threat to him.

So why did he feel so shy and nervous and flustered every time she said something like...

"Gosh," she said sweetly, giggling up at him, "You're, like, soooo cute, aren't you, silly boy?"

He squirmed. "Um..."

"Just staring at my pretty bouncy boobies," she purred, reaching down and giving them another little jiggle, "And going along with everything I say."

"Y... I mean..." He bit his lip. His mouth was awfully dry, and she smelled so nice, and her boobies--her breasts kept, um, bouncing... "I-I mean, I'm just... I just..."

"You just know," Mimi said sweetly, her eyes wide with gentle adoration, "That girls are smart, don't you? Because you're a clever boy!"

He stared helplessly into her beautiful eyes. "Um... m-maybe..."

"Maybe, baby?" She batted her eyelashes and took another step closer. She was very, very close now. "Maybe, you think? You're maybe clever?"

Her breasts bounced. Bounced. Bounce-bounce-bounced. So soft. So inviting.

"Y-Yes, Miss Mimi," he whimpered, squirming, "I'm... I'm clever."'

"Good boy~" she cooed, and her smile was like the warmest,c oziest sunbeam Clover had ever felt on his face. He smiled, too, feeling that dizzy dreamy bliss flowing through him again. "Aww, such a cuuuute little boy! You just repeat everything I say, don't you?"

"E-Everything you--n-no--" He managed to almost glare, but couldn't quite bring himself to glare at such a pretty girl, so he settled for glaring above her head. "N-No I don't, I--"

"Girls are smarter, boys are stronger," she said sweetly.

"Girls are smarter, boys are stronger," he whimpered.

"Good boy!" She beamed and reached up, and his face deeply reddening, he found himself bending down to let her pat his cheek. Her touch felt so nice, and leaning down let him gaze right down her cleavage, breathe in her sweet, intoxicating scent... "Such a good boy for me~"

"But... but I... no..." he swallowed. Gods, his mouth was so dry all of a sudden. "N-No, that's not... something about that, um, it's not..."

"Hm?" She blinked up at him, her eyes as big and sweet and harmless as water lilies. "Something about it isn't right, sweetie? Is that what you're saying?"

"Y... yes," he admitted, head bowed, avoiding her gaze shyly and instead staring in hopeless desire at her breasts. At her big, soft, bouncy... boobies...

"Hm..." She put a finger to those beestung pouty lips of hers, as if considering this. "Goodness, you know..."

Clover braced himself to be teased, to be told he was a silly boy. Because didn't everyone know girls were smarter and boys were stronger? He felt sure he'd always heard that. It felt so impossible to disagree with.

Btut she, to his surprise, gave a little nod and patted his arm with a big, bright smile. "I think you're right, baby! Good boy!"

"Oh..." Waves of relief flooded through him, relief that he wasn't just being silly again, and he smiled hopelessly at her, at this beautiful, sweet, gentle angel who was being so, so very nice to him, so kind to tell him he was right, to reassure him... "Oh, thank you, I--I thought so!"

Briefly, he felt a little silly to thank her. But it just felt right. Mimi was so pretty and sweet, and surely it was only polite to say 'thank you' when a pretty girl was nice to you, right?

"Aww, you're welcome, baby!" Mimi giggled, clearly delighted at his response. "Yes, I think you're definitely right. I mean, girls are smarter..." She plumped those plush, perfect lips out, smiling smugly up at him as she seemed to consider it...

Clover's breath caught. He stared at her and licked his lips. "W-Wha--"

"... but I bet girls are stronger, too~" she cooed up at him.

He stared dumbly, stupidly, frozen to the spot. His whole world suddenly felt uncertain. Vulnerable. "B-Buh---buh... No, that's not..." He squirmed, suddenly very conscious of how very close to him this buxom blonde was, of how hard it was to look away as her breasts bounced, squished together between her delicate hands, so soft and enticing.

And the air was so warm. He couldn't believe how warm it was--the mist was like warm, soft blankets, making it so hard to breathe cleanly, so hard to settle his dizzy thoughts...

"I'm..." He took a deep breath, mind swimming in sweetness. "I'm no--"

"Are you cold, baby?" Mimi asked sweetly.

Clover blinked.

Was he... cold?

"You seem sooo cold, sweetie," the pretty girl went on, pouting and frowning sympathetically. "And it's sooo chilly and windy out tonight. Are you cold?"

A little breeze seemed to wafted through. Clover felt his world swirling in the sweetness of her words, the certainty of her truth drowning his own like a bee in honey. Mimi was so smart, and so pretty, and... and...

... and he shivered.

Mimi giggled. "Awww~!"

Her arms open spread wide.

"Looks like someone needs to come to Mommy~"

And something inside Clover melted at the sweet adoration in her voice as he felt himself sinking down, down, down towards her luscious, soft, warm embrace...

And the smell of honey flooded his senses the closer and closer he got. And his cock was twitching, and his mind was melting, and and his thoughts suddenly felt so soft, so... malleable...

Is this what it feels like to be in love? he wondered dreamily, as he sank into Mimi's loving arms.