Miari’s hands were on her hips as she looked over the old castle, eyes narrowed. Well. She was here.
The Toxin Ranger had been tracking the activities of Lady Ciliata for a long time now. The baroness of this particular domain liked to keep a low profile, only coming out to play when she found something, or someone, she wanted. Fey barons and baronesses were rare, and few people had ever seen Lady Ciliata in person—her ‘official’ castle was managed entirely by servants, many of whom had been trained to be almost as dangerous as mindweavers themselves.
The hunt had been exhausting and dangerous work. Most Toxin Rangers were content to spend their time protecting an assigned lodge, but upon arriving in the Western Plains barony, Miari had quickly determined that it was not going to be safe for her to stay in one place for too long. Lady Ciliata was very powerful, and her agents and thralls were dug in too deep; it had taken everything Miara had to stay one step ahead of them and hunt for the elusive baroness.
Miari had needed to do a lot of careful investigation and area sweeps to find her target, as the kitsune had several castles and estates, all designed to lure in unsuspecting prey. But the distribution of spelled peaches gradually revealed a discernable pattern. This had to be the wicked kitsune’s true home. This was the center of all the deliveries, the nearest point that all of Lady Ciliata’s agents seemed to congregate around.
Plus, it was surrounded by massive, heavy-laden peach trees. Miari smirked. That was a pretty foolish tell, frankly.
Granted, the trees surrounding the manor were younger than she’d expected, and smaller—if they were dire peaches, they definitely needed a few more decades to grow out to the classic size. The fresh peaches Ciliata’s agents liked to spread around the neighboring towns and baronies were much larger, and came in much more vibrant shades of orange and pink. Perhaps the real orchard was hidden deeper in the estate?
Miari checked that her sword remained loose in its scabbard. She was dressed for battle—a shirt of mail and a pair of leather trousers studded with extra straps for better protection. Even her long blonde hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail. With a knife in each boot and numerous tools and pre-prepared potions tied to the sash that arced from her shoulder to her hip, she looked like she was ready to storm the castle single-handedly.
Of course, ‘storming’ wasn’t exactly the plan. Miari approached the door cautiously, eyes darting about for any sign of trouble. She wasn’t too worried. Lady Ciliata was not known for her subtlety, nor for her magical finesse. This was unusual for a kitsune, who normally wielded great magical power. But fey who acted as human as she did—who took on human titles and lived in castles and ran estates filled with servants—tended to have weaker magic, as if the World Base itself could sense that they weren’t as much fey as they ought to have been.
The peaches had been spiked with a fairly clumsily brewed brainwashing potion. Quite curable, which suggested to Miari that Ciliata didn’t have an especially gifted brewer on board. A bit of luck. It suggested Lady Ciliata wasn’t quite as resourceful as she thought she was.
Nevertheless, Miari kept her eyes peeled for danger. There could still be wards placed by one of Lady Ciliata’s many faithful thralls, and one wrong move in a mindweaver’s den spelled disaster.
Miari rubbed the little bronze mushroom brooch at her sash, and smiled grimly. As a Toxin Ranger, she had been more than prepared to treat those who’d been affected, and most of the victims would soon be back to managing complete sentences without so much as a ‘like’ or a cute giggle. Their bodies, too, would return to normal, though the peach’s effects in that department were thankfully more minimal.
Of course, she thought, as a grain of salt touched on her memories, some had been a little disappointed to learn they wouldn’t keep the curves they’d been given.
Honestly. Some people almost seemed to enjoy being transformed against their will.
Miari didn’t understand non-Rangers sometimes. Common folk sometimes seemed so… ambivalent about fey mischief. But she was from Nyaska, and things were different in the city. She didn’t understand the commoners at all.
She tried to respect it, but she also tried not to think about it. Part of her didn’t really want to understand it.
Something caught Miari’s eye, and just in time, she sidestepped a curious clump of rather sapphic blossoms growing next to the path. The blossoms were a brilliant hot pink, and dripped with something like honey as their stalks shifted—against the breeze—towards her.
They were almost as tall as Miari’s hips, which was saying something: Miari was quite tall, enough to intimidate people, which she quite enjoyed. She hurried around, giving the flowers a very, very wide berth.
The door was unlocked.
That… could be a very good sign or a very, very bad one.
She brushed some ochre-yellow seeall pollen from a pouch at her side over the doorknob. It wafted like chalk powder, as pale blue as Miari’s own misty eyes, and settled on the shiny brass metal.
Nothing happened. She stared disbelievingly for a long moment. That… was that even possible?
Just as the dust was finishing settling, a breeze picked up and blew the dust back up into the air, and this jolted Miari back into the moment as she quickly covered her mouth to keep from inhaling it.
But gods, that was… a surprise.
The door was unlocked.
The door was untrapped.
Did Lady Ciliata really think nobody would find her? Had she assumed nobody would even bother to look?
Miari hesitated, then reached down and drew her sword. It slid from the scabbard soundlessly, to her satisfaction. Miari always took excellent care of her tools and equipment.
With any luck, she wouldn’t need to use them. Miari was confident she had this well in hand. But, she thought, grimacing, sometimes in her line of work, things didn’t exactly go to plan.
She reached down and grasped the doorknob. Belatedly, as she turned it, she wondered if a subtler trap might have been concealed within the mechanisms of the lock, or on the door itself.
But the door opened easily, and Miari gave a sly smile. It seemed that the Baroness was very much unprepared for this engagement.
As she entered, Miari was greeted by a world out of a storybook.
The foyer of the manor might as well have been a cathedral in its grandeur. The ceiling arched high, supported by elegant corbels with fine lacing. Colorful tapestries of abstract designs, pink and red and deep violet, draped from the walls and fluttered around like thick ribbon. Pale pedestals lined the walls, each bearing unique and beautiful works of art. There were free-standing pieces, too, such as a suit of rune-covered silver armor, or a hanging sheet of solid amber made to look like drapery, or a gorgeous pair of white armchairs styled to resemble sloping swans. The polished marble of the walls and ceiling—such a lavish, extravagant rarity in this part of the world—shone like misty glass, to the extent that Miari almost did a double-take. It was like a pale iced-over lake in the sunlight.
And it was bright. Miari flinched as her hand went to cover her eyes as the pulsing, many-colored glare of the hanging chandeliers, great priceless devices of glass and chain, pounded every inch of the room in ceaseless day.
The manor was magnificent, and Miari was briefly speechless, amazed at the sight. The Western Plains barons and baronesses were infamous for many things, including terrible vanity and terrible privilege, but she’d never heard of anything so extreme. This was like a royal castle, surely, from the stories Miari had heard about the old Royal Family. Or a cathedral, from the stories Miari had read about the time of the gods.
It couldn’t be real. And, Miari felt deeply in her gut, it wasn’t. Not really. This was a facade, maintained lovingly by Lady Ciliata’s faithful servants. No doubt the stone was real, imported at great expense, but the lights clearly weren’t magical—they were mundane oil lanterns, as Miari looked closer, tricked with colored glass to seem to glow in otherworldly light. The foyer was not so vast as it seemed, either, Miari told herself. It was an optical illusion, easily seen through, created by the reflectiveness of the floors.
And all those art pieces, the antiques and knickknacks… well, those were probably worth something, but fey didn’t really get historical significance, and Miari wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that half of the items there were just random pretty things the foxgirl had taken a liking to in marketplaces. Nothing so special.
It was still stunning. It was still breathtaking. Miari forced herself to sniff disdainfully. One of the chief tenets of the Toxin Rangers was a sort of neutrality bordering on contempt for the rich and powerful.
She wasn’t impressed. It was just a nice house, that was all. Maintained by brainwashed servants, clearly. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her longsword. And soon it would be regarded by those who visited it as just another ruin.
Still, it was pretty. She took a moment to admire the way the rosy lights of a nearby chandelier sent pretty shadows dancing across the floor.
And then she gave a start as a high-pitched voice positively squealed in her ear, “Welcome!”
Miari spun, containing a yelp of alarm, half-drawing her sword back to strike.
A positively gorgeous elven woman was beaming at Miari, her form as radiant as the reflected beams of sunset-pink and twilight-purple bouncing off of her platinum-blonde hair. Her curls rolled merrily down her shoulders, complementing her brilliant sea-green eyes and shining smile. She was clad in a rather embarrassingly suggestive maid outfit, with a bodice that put her tits out on display, a corset that hugged her narrow waist tightly as if it could not bear to let her go—because who could, with a body like that? The bustle of her skirt swung dramatically to the side as the blonde elfmaid struck a pose, left hand on her wide hips, right hand with a finger to her plump, rose-pink lips, prominent dimples rising as her smile seemed to flood the entire room with a dawn of her own making. A feather duster was held in her left hand.
Miari stared for a moment, stunned. Dazzled, almost. She’d met plenty of servants of Lady Ciliata, but… wow. Her heart fluttered a little. She’d never seen such a vision.
And judging by those pretty pink hearts swirling in those pretty green eyes of hers, this woman was firmly, absolutely under Lady Ciliata’s control, and thus a danger.
Nonetheless, Miari’s grip on the sword relaxed slightly—the maid’s radiant beauty made it difficult to maintain an overtly hostile stance. But considering the guileless way the maid had revealed herself to an otherwise unaware Miari, the Ranger knew she needed to keep up her guard. Miari chided herself for having been so focused on the surroundings. Even if Lady Ciliata was overconfident and overextended, it still didn’t excuse sloppiness.
“Hello,” she said uncertainly, finally lowering the sword. “Who are you?”
“I’m Galess!” the elfmaid cooed. And before Miari could even react, she lunged forward, grabbed Miari’s hands—one still on the sword—and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on each of Miari’s cheeks. Miari was briefly stunned by the sheer audacity, and then Galess pulled back, giggling, and batted her eyelashes. “What’s your name?”
“M-Miari,” Miari stammered, blinking rapidly. Briefly, her heart chilled at the thought of poison, but she didn’t feel any of the usual side effects of a toxic kiss—nor did the maid seem to have any unusual perfume that Miari could detect.
She smelled nice. Like oranges and lemons. But… not intoxicatingly nice. Just nice.
Just like those eyes weren’t alluringly pretty, or addictively pretty, or hypnotically pretty.
“Ooh, that’s, like, suuuch a pretty name!” Galess gushed, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. Her eyelashes fluttered like the thick, hanging branches of a growing fir tree. “Miari. Miari.” She giggled. “It is so nice to meet you, Miari!”
“I-Is it.” Miari kept her voice carefully, rigidly neutral. She had to. Galess seemed harmless now, but the Ranger knew from experience how easily a ‘bimbo thrall’ could turn into a cunning femme fatale when the right trigger was activated.
She’d also heard stories of bimbos themselves being dangerous, but, well… she couldn’t help but smirk at that. Sure, lavender dryads and the sort had their perils, but mindweaving took a bit more brains than someone like Galess, in her current state, could muster.
“Yes! Yes yes yes!” Galess’s voice was sugary bliss, as if saying the word was the sweetest ecstasy in the world, and she bounced with excitement.
Miari tried not to enjoy the sight too much, despite the part of her that very much enjoyed the way Galess’s massive, freckled breasts seemed to jiggle with a mind of their own. She was a Toxin Ranger, a member of the most conservative of the four Ranger Orders, and it was heavily discouraged for Rangers to meddle in carnal affairs during work hours. Especially women with other women. Bad for the family unit, or something like that. Miari didn’t think much of that, and most Toxin Rangers ignored it as an outdated artifact. Regardless, Miari did prefer to keep play out of work.
Frankly, she didn’t ‘play’ much at all. Miari didn’t like losing control. So she cleared her throat, prompting Galess to stop bouncing and just blink at her with those big, heart-filled doe eyes. “Why is that?” she asked, keeping her expression as neutral as she could manage. When the maid continued to blink back, she added, “That it’s nice to meet me?”
“Well, you’re a guest!” Galess blinked at Miari, as if the Ranger had asked why she was standing on her feet and not her head. “It’s my job to welcome guests when Mistress is occupied, silly!” She giggled, swinging her ass to the other side and mirroring the hand-on-hip pose. “Like, I’m suuuper good at it!”
“Oh, really?” Miari’s guard was immediately raised. So they knew she was here? Or did Galess never leave the foyer area? Probably the latter, she supposed, remembering the time she’d met a brainwashed boytoy who was trained to spend his whole life kneeling in a particular closet in case his mistresses had need of his tongue while getting dressed in a few particular skirts. Compared to that, waiting over a whole foyer was quite mundane.
Regardless, this suggested that Galess’s role was as something of a guard. But what possible threat could this bubbly babbler pose to a seasoned Ranger? Miari barely suppressed a smirk as Galess’s hyperactive bouncing caused a few locks of stray blonde hair to sweep right into her eyes. Miari was quite proud of her own practical ponytail.
“Yuh-huh!” Galess’s head bobbed, smirking as she brushed the hair away. “I do whatever guests want me to!” She gave a suggestive wink. “Anything.”
The statement was too overt to even be considered innuendo, and her posture had gotten distinctly sultry—the hips swung out to one side and her chest thrust up, presenting her full range of delights for Miari to… admire. Her eyes glimmered and shone like molten malachite, malachite filled with candy hearts.
Miari swallowed. “Anything?” Her mouth was surprisingly dry, but an idea was beginning to occur to her.
“Anything,” Galess moaned, running her hands down her curves, caressing her massive, pillowy breasts and squeezing them seductively, wantonly. Gods, she couldn’t have been more obviously trying to delay Miari if she’d asked the Ranger to please just stay in one place for ten minutes while Mistress got out of her shower.
Miari carefully sheathed her sword, then reached into her satchel and drew out a length of silk cord.
“Would you… let me tie you up?” she asked hesitantly, and then, worried this would be too far, quickly added, “as a game?”
“Oooooh.” Galess blinked and giggled. “Kinky! Totally, like, yes, please!” She jiggled her shoulders up and down. “Tie me up, Miari! Do it!”
Miari couldn’t help but notice the way her pale cheeks had gone a dusky pink.
Oh, gods. She was into this.
Miari hesitated, then took a step forward and cautiously grasped the maid’s wrist. Galess gave a soft gasp and giggled nervously, but didn’t object. Far from it—she positively leaned into Miari’s touch.
Oh, gods. She was really into this.
Miari tried to swallow her discomfort—and some unwanted emotions at having a gorgeous bimbo elfmaid basically falling into her arms begging to be tied up—and began working the knots.
“Ooh.” Galess panted, squirming. “That… ooh, that’s n-nice…”
As Miari pulled her close, feeling her own cheeks burning in embarrassment and something else, she felt a distinct tenting beneath Galess’s skirt.
Oh, gods. She was really, really into this.
Miari’s cheeks were as brilliant sunset-red as Galess’s, she knew, as she worked hurriedly, binding Galess’s wrists together. Galess had such slight, lovely wrists, and those dainty fingers tickled Miari’s hands as she nervously took the feather duster away from her and cast it to the floor.
It made a distinct tinny sound when it hit the floor. Miari winced.
“Ooh…” Galess’s eyes were as wide and innocent as shutterless windows as she stared at Miari, her plump pink lips jutting out in a sultry pout. “Are you gonna… get me the, like… the ring?”
“Ring?” Miari swallowed, staring uncomprehendingly at the gorgeous, wriggling blonde. Oh, gods. She could see the tenting, now. Galess was incredibly turned on.
And, Miari thought, squirming, Miari was starting to, um… to feel a little…
She quelled the thought with a forced scowl and tied the second wrist a little tighter to the arm of the swan chair. She was not turned on, and even if she was, her tight, restrictive trousers would contain any… any signs to the contrary.
Her tight, confining leather trousers. Binding her. Keeping her cock contained, helpless to so much as twitch, even when Galess seemed to be deliberately grinding her ass against Miari’s hips, encouraging Miari to buck forward, to grind back, to…
Miari’s cheeks blazed like tar on a sweltering summer day as she pulled back. “W-What ring?” she repeated, desperate to distract the beautiful, horny elf.
Galess was breathless with desire as she gazed up at Miari adoringly, her eyes heavy-lidded, lips half-parted. “The feather ring,” she whispered, and bit her lip. Her eyelashes fluttered seductively. “Since I’m being tied up. Mistress always… when we’ve been bad…”
“B-Bad?” The Ranger’s breath caught in her throat, then turned to choking lemon blossom petals as Galess leaned closer and her pleasant scent filled Miari’s lungs, her pretty eyes filled Miari’s vision, her… her touch filled Miari’s… Miari’s…
“Or…” the bimbo purred, “when we’ve been good… very, very goooooooood…”
“G-Good?” Miari whimpered.
She snapped back to attention and forced herself to focus, finishing binding Galess’s wrists together at last. She began to force Galess to her knees, but then, noticing the rather comfortable-looking pair of swan armchairs on display, decided to make use of what she had and led Galess over to sit in one. Galess was quite eager to oblige, and she giggled as Miari forced her to sit. “Ooh, yes,” she purred, head bobbing dreamily. “The feather ring is, like… ooh…” She wriggled happily as Miari leaned down to start wrapping cord around her waist, the Ranger flushed-faced and trying desperately not to look at the jiggling tits at her eye level. “… it feels soooo nice, soooo good.”
“Does it.” Miari kept her voice curt and clipped, trying not to think about what Galess was saying. She just needed to keep Galess talking, she told herself. It didn’t matter what about, as long as Galess was thinking about something other than realizing what Miari was doing, realizing that Miari had absolutely no intention of ‘playing’ with Galess at any point, realizing that she was being outsmarted by Miari, like the dumb bimbo she was, and that Miari was in no way under Galess’s unsubtle, so-called ‘influence’.
As long as Galess was thinking about something other than continuing to try to grind against Miari like a wanton slut.
“Yes!” Miari was caught off-guard by the sheer intensity of Galess’s words, the worshipful way her mouth voiced the agreement, the brilliant, almost frightening happiness in those eyes as they shone into her. “The feather ring feels wonderful! Gosh, like…” She giggled, pushing out of the chair to take Miari’s hand with both of hers, even as Miari moved to bind her back to the back of the chair. “Like, it’s like… it tickles.” Her eyes glimmered. Her breasts seem to swell as she arched her back subtly. “And… teases.”
Miari could barely breathe for the lemon scent immersing her. She realized she was leaning in too far. Too far. Too close to those… those beautiful, bouncing, jiggling…
“It’s gonna feel sooooo nice,” Galess burbled brainlessly, giggling and bouncing in her seat with what little mobility Miari allowed her, “when those feathers are just tickling and teeeeasing and I’m just wriggling and giggling,” she giggled again, “like a silly, needy slutty bubbly bim-bo!” Her lips popped at the last word, and her words gave way into ecstatic giggles.
“Um.” Miari realized she wasn’t getting enough air and quickly pulled back and took a deep breath in. Gods, maybe Galess was a little dangerous. She seemed so innocent, but those eyes… the way she was caressing Miari’s hand with the tips of her fingers, even with her own hands bound, delicately tracing little tickling, soothing circles and spirals around Miari’s palm… the way she seemed to be bouncing with an almost deliberate rhythm in her chair, now, the soft bounciness of the swan chair’s cushions complimenting her motions further… “W-What, so, the ring is enchanted?”
It was worth asking. It was good to know. It was good to know this thing, Miari told herself firmly, and not something she ‘wanted’ to know, or ‘longed’ to know, or was ‘thirsting to know because Galess made it sound so good, so wonderful, so sweet’ and, um, well, yes. It was a useful bit of information. Obviously.
Annoyingly, Galess giggled, as if she didn’t realize that it was clearly just intellectual curiosity that motivated the question. Miari scowled. “Like, duuuh!” Galess winked. “Mistress’s feather rings are soooo much fun.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “They’ll, like… mmm…” She wriggled happily as Miari tightened the rope around Galess’s slender, supple waist. “They have… soooo many feathers…” She wriggled her hips, beaming up at Miari, and the Ranger caught her breath as she realized how close they both were right now, how close Galess’s plump, luscious lips were… “…and they’ll tickle my cute bimbo c-cock, like… sooooo much…”
“W-What?” Miari stared, shocked, as Galess squirmed. Wriggled. It was like she was being stimulated just by the ropes. No, just by Miari’s proximity. No, just by thinking about the… the ‘feather ring’. “Tickle you?”
“Teeease you,” Galess sighed, rocking slightly in her chair as her eyes shone like endless moons reflected in dark water. And pretty pink heart-shaped fish swam in those waters, swirling about, drawing Miari’s attention. Drawing it deeper. Deeper. “Tickle you… aaall over that silly…” She bit her lip. Her cheeks were going bright red, but her eyes only shone brighter, more beautiful, the bimbo’s gaze drawing Miari’s like the moon pulled the tides.
Miari could barely breathe now. She stared helplessly, her grip on the ropes loosening slightly. Sinking into the sugary syrup words.
“Cuuuuute,” Galess cooed.
Miari stared into Galess’s endless pretty eyes, shocked. Stunned. Almost… hypnotized. The elfmaid’s voice dripped with lust and seduction, and it was like every word, every syllable, every vowel and consonant was a dainty delicate finger stroking over her cute, needy, silly bimbo cock, stroking ever-so-delicately, ever-so-sweetly, so lovingly, so slowly, allowing her arousal to rise inside her and choke her words, drown out her thoughts, until she was just a silly, horny, cute, bubbly, obedient, pliant…
Miari was panting. Just a… oh, those eyes, so pretty, such pretty-pretty eyes, so spellbindingly lovely and intoxicating to gaze into as Galess’s voice poured easy brainless seduction into…
Um. That was to say. She swallowed. It was like every word, um, stroked Galess’s cock.
Not Miari’s. Definitely not Miari’s.
The Ranger blinked, and just that little effort took horrible exertion. She blinked across at Galess, who smiled so very sweetly at her, so innocently. Such a cute, silly bimbo.
Miari felt her heart beating a low, steady rhythm in her chest. She felt so confused. So disoriented. She felt like Galess was moving at twice her speed, or thinking at twice her speed—it wasn’t hard, clearly, when she had no thoughts slowing her down, none of these exhausting cares or worries…
She felt so silly.
She struggled to push through the fog. This was… it was hard to think, when Galess was this close, still cooing about… “… and it feels so goooood,” she was gushing, batting her eyelashes, the perfect picture of an irresistible coquette, “letting Mistress’s magic teeeease you, I mean, like, me—” She giggled. “—like the silly slutty bimbo you are…”
It was so hard to think, but Miari had a faint sense, a certain awareness, that there was some problem here. It was hard to imagine what. Galess was so pretty, and it felt so easy and nice to just let her keep talking. Miari could finish tying her up later. Soon, even. Very soon. Just a few seconds more of this closeness, of Galess telling her how nice it felt… “… to be a cute needy bimbo, just the neediest, most helpless, like, totes obedient edgeslut Mistress could ever want you to be…”
… but she had this weird sense that this was bad. Dangerous, even, though she couldn’t imagine how someone as cute and silly and sexy and curvy and pretty and sparkly and swirly and shiny and spirally and full of pretty pink hearts and so deep and glassy…
… as, um, Galess… could ever be a threat to someone as. As smart. As capable. As intelligent and clever and strong-willed and experienced as Miari. Miari bit her lip and nodded to herself. Surely she was in no danger.
But surely, then, she should be able to finish tying Galess up before trouble arrived.
Right. In just a second. Just a few more seconds.
Her head swam with pretty-pretty hearts as Galess giggled, and she felt a sudden urge to giggle, too. Galess gave her hand a squeeze, and she almost seemed to be reaching to take the rope away from Miari… or, um, Miari was almost starting to offer the rope, willingly, pliantly, docilely…
Her mind kicked into a burst of motion. Oh. Oh, shit, she was—she was being hypnotized! Her eyes widened, and in a feat of will that felt like dragging an anvil by her fingertips, she forced herself to tighten her grip on the rope, to pull away, trying to escape the pleasing cloud of sweet-smelling lemon.
And, she noticed faintly, apricot?
That was new.
She paused slightly, confused, blinking big, dizzy eyes down at the bubbly, babbling bimbo elf.
And then she felt a delicate, dainty fluffy touch graze the back of her neck, and she gave a reflexive squeak and twisted around as she bolted upright.
Miari found herself staring straight into a pair of brilliant blue eyes that swirled with pink hearts, like they were caught in twin windstorms.
This elfmaid was shorter than Galess, plumper and with a luscious, curvy frame strapped into an especially ill-fitting maid uniform that barely contained her bounteous bosom and generous hips. In contrast to Galess’s platinum-blonde locks, her hair was a deep scarlet that matched her lips, done up in two elegant buns.
“Hiiii!~” the newcomer cooed, swinging her hips from side to side in her excitement and twirling a strange… plant between her fingers, similar to the sapphic blossoms growing outside, but larger and even more visibly full of nectar. And unlike those flowers, it blossomed from a long, creeping vine that stemmed from a handled plantpot that the maid carried at her side with the other hand. “What’s your name, cutie?”
Miari stared. “M-Mi—”
“Mary!” squealed Galess, who leaned over to beam at the other maid despite being still half-tied to the chair. “Ooh, Elesma, she’s, like, soooo cute, isn’t she?”
Miari’s cheeks heated up. Her voice was weaker than she meant it to be as she stammered, “M-My name’s not—”
“Soooo cute,” Elesma agreed, giggling as she spun around Miari. Miari twirled to keep up. The shortstack elf smiled up at Miari with an almost predatory gleam in those otherwise vapid blue rosy-swirling eyes. “Isn’t she a doll!” She lowered the pot onto the floor, but still held the flower. With her newly free hand, she reached up to run a finger through Miari’s ponytail. “Ooh, silky!”
“Is it?” Galess positively whined. “Ooh, I wish I could feel!”
Miari’s cheeks grew hotter. “S-Stop—”
“This would look soooo cute in pigtails!” Elesma batted her eyelashes up at Miari. “Gosh, like, I totally wish I had strawberry blonde hair like yours!” She leaned in, and Miari could barely breathe for the overwhelming smell of apricots.
“I-I…” Miari bit her lip, looking shyly between the two bimbo maids, suddenly off-balance. Or maybe not so suddenly. She’d been feeling off-balance for a very, very long time, actually. She squirmed and took a stumbling step away, trying to hide the way her girlcock was beginning to poke at the constriction of her torturously tight leather trousers.
Elesma twisted around to Miari’s other side, and Miari found herself being ‘herded’ right back towards Galess. “So pretty,” she gushed, continuing to run her fingers through Miari’s hair despite Miari’s muffled protest. “Wow, like, you’re totally gorgeous, aren’t you, Mary?”
“I, um.” Miari felt her cheeks flushing bright red. She wasn’t used to compliments, and even though intellectually she knew this was a dangerous situation, it somehow simply didn’t feel real. Not when Galess and Elesma were being so very sweet and bubbly. And Galess was half-tied up!
Elesma smirked as Miari stuttered, bending over to pick up Galess’s feather duster. She spun back, twirling in her cute skirt, and blinked up at Miari with big, innocent eyes. “Ooh, what’s this?” she cooed.
Miari felt her cheeks glowing like puddles of bubbling magma as she shook her head weakly, unable to form words.
“It’s just my duster, silly!” Galess giggled. “But I was, like, telling her about Mistress’s feather rings!”
“Ooh, really?” Elesma’s eyes brightened. She reached up and, before Miari could react, tickled the feather duster right under Miari’s nose.
Miari recoiled. “S-Stop, I—I—” She sneezed.
The two maids immediately dissolved into coos.
“Aww, her sneeze is so little!” Elesma gushed.
“Like a kitty’s!” Galess giggled.
“She’s soooo cute!” Elesma exclaimed.
“Can we keep her?”
Miari shook her head weakly, overwhelmed by the praise and suggestions that seemed to be coming from all around her. She stared desperately at the floor, trying to ignore the way her cock was twitching—why was she enjoying being teased so much?—and frantically scrambled to find some dignity, or at least some words, before the bimbo maids noticed the way her cock was distinctly starting to tent her trousers.
“She’s sooooo much fun,” Elesma purred, and Miari felt her eyes unwillingly rise to meet the elfgirl’s as the feathers tickled under her chin. She stared into Elesma’s beautiful, heart-filled eyes, and swallowed a stone. “So pretty,” Elesma went on, giggling, “and adorable.”
“N-No,” Miari squeaked, flushing and shaking her head. She wanted to look away again. But Elesma’s eyes held her.
Elesma’s eyes were so pretty. So shimmery. Shimmering with so many little pretty pink hearts. Miari bit her lip.
“That’s right,” she heard Elesma say sweetly. “Stare right into my eyes, sweetie. There’s a good girl.” At good girl, the feather duster tickled under Miari’s side, and Miari bit back a tiny giggle and squirmed from the touch. “Isn’t it fun to just do eeeeverything bimbos tell you to do like a cute. Little. Bimbo?” With every emphasized word, the feather duster struck, tickling her sides, her armpit, her neck, her arm. Each time, Miari reacted on instinct, acting with no wit or thought to simply try to cover the targeted body part—inevitably exposing other parts for easy tickling. Giggles slipped from her, soft and fizzy but increasingly unstoppable.
And while she struggled to avoid getting tickled, Elesma’s eyes swirled with endless pretty pink hearts, and she couldn’t seem to look away.
“Of course it is!” sang Galess, in spite of Miari’s helpless shaking of her head. “And, like, I bet it’s suuuper even more fun when she, like, stares right into your pretty eyes, Elesma!”
“Oh!” Elesma giggled and adjusted her hair, bouncing slightly in place. “Are they, like, pretty?” She fluttered her eyelashes—but never quite closed her eyes completely, never quite allowing Miari a reprieve from the pretty pink swirly hearts. “Are they, Mary?”
“I’m.” Miari whined. “M-Miii…”
The two bimbos burst into giggles.
“That’s right, cutie!” gushed Elesma, ‘rewarding’ Miari with more tickling along her neck and chin, eliciting more helpless giggles and wriggles. “You’re you!”
“I’m me, too!” Galess chimed in, and though Miari couldn’t seem to tear herself away from Elesma’s eyes, she could hear the smirk in Galess’s voice.
“See?” Elesma beamed, rising on her tiptoes as the feather dusty tickled Miari’s arm. “It’s so easy to do what bimbos say, because we say the same things you do!”
“N-No,” Miari protested, shaking her head.
“Ooh, just imagine how nice the feather ring feels, though,” Galess cooed, even as Miari desperately—and ineffectually—fended off the tickling assault. Her giggles and squeals of fright quickly formed a soundtrack to Galess’s bubbly description. “All those feathers… circling around your pretty cock… tickling and tickling so you’re, like, constantly a needy mess!”
“Ooh.” Elema gave a happy sigh, fluttering those pretty, thick lashes until Miari felt positively faint. “When they all start tickling at once, and it seems like the more you giggle and beg…”
“The faster they tickle and tease you?” Galess moaned softly, squirming in her bonds. “Ooh, and…”
“… when Mistress finally finds you,” they panted together, as Miari backed away, head spinning, heart racing, fleeing the tickle-happy maid, “and it’s time for your reward?”
Miari bit her lip as Elesma followed her, smiling a strange, knowing smile. The duster darted over Miari’s head, and like a lamb fleeing the crook, Miari ducked her head down, stooped to avoid it, descended right into…
… right into the chair facing Galess.
Miari blinked. It took her a moment to realize what Elesma had just tricked her into doing.
Oh. How… how silly of her.
Cheeks burning, she tried to rise, only to find Elesma’s hand on her shoulder. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest—
And then Elesma was kissing her, and her whole world became sweet apricots and intoxicating touch. Her eyes briefly widened, and she caught a glimpse of the elfmaid’s sly, triumphant expression.
Then Elesma’s tongue slipped into her mouth, and Miari felt a moan slipping from her, and the moan went on as her eyelids fluttered shut and she briefly lost herself to Elesma’s kiss.
Vaguely, she was conscious of straps clicking. But she couldn’t think about that. The sensation of the kiss, Elesma’s lips so plush and… and perfect, her tongue so dexterous as it toyed with Miari’s, as Elesma wrapped an arm around Miari and pulled her closer, deeper into the kiss.
By the time Elesma pulled back, Miari had felt herself slipping and sinking deep, deep, deep indeed into the kiss. Her eyelids fluttered. Her world continued to sink and slosh.
Her cock was unbearably needy, and she bit her lip to hold in a whimper as she became conscious of this. Elesma beamed down at her. “See?” the maid cooed. “No more complaints! Feels good to do as bimbos say, doesn’t it?”
“N-No,” Miari whined. She couldn’t think of strategy, couldn’t think of whether or not it was a good idea to disagree with Elesma. She just needed to resist. Needed to say no. Needed to say no.
“She’s sooooo good at doing everything bimbos say!” Galess cooed. The two of them giggled at her.
Miari shook her head weakly. “No!”
“Aww.” Elesma pouted. “Does this pretty girl need another kiss to calm her down?”
“Oooh,” Galess breathed, “I bet she does!”
Miari caught herself from objecting again. Barely. She just stared in helpless anticipation as Elesma came closer, beaming ear to ear, eyes so pretty and swirly, those luscious lips pouting indulgently and closing in for the kiss…
Miari’s heart shot into an adrenaline rush at the last possible second, and she jerked to her feet with a squeak of alarm. She tried to leap from the chair—
—and stumbled as something binding one of her ankles drew taut, a leather strap she hadn’t noticed attached to the chair—
—and then Elesma was trying to catch her, cooing soothing sympathy, and Miari was struggling, squirming, both mentally and physically trying to wrest herself free—
—until her knees struck the floor, and Miari found herself, panting, head spinning wildly, on her knees between the two chairs.
Her thoughts were a whirl. A swirl. Her head swam as she heard Elesma cooing over her. She was dimly conscious of the elfmaid stroking her hair, asking if she was okay, sympathetic over how clumsy Mary had been…
And in her dizzy daze, Miari realized her eyes were staring straight across from her. Galess sat there, still half-tied up, still squirming slightly in her restraints.
But, Miari realized, thoughts blurring as if through a haze of heat, there was something Miari could see from this angle that she couldn’t before.
The maids’ skirts were very short.
And Galess’s adorable cock was twitching eagerly beneath it, right at eye level with the half-hypnotized Ranger.
Miari stared at it. The cock bobbed slightly as Galess squirmed.
Miari’s mouth watered, and she remembered just in time to close her parted lips. She swallowed, eyes wide.
Everything still felt so fuzzy. The world up above hung like all the weight of an endless ocean, and down here felt… Miari shifted slightly, biting her lip, trying in vain to avoid Elesma’s relentless headpets. Down here felt easier, somehow. Safer.
She couldn’t look away from Galess’s beautiful cock, and her heart was racing in her chest at the sight.
Dimly, dreamily, Miari realized that Elesma had stopped talking, and there was silence—except for faint, muffled giggles from above. She tried to look up, to see what was going on, but looking up felt hard. Staring at Galess’s cock felt easy.
“Ooh,” Elesma breathed, her voice as wispy as fading clouds, “do we… see something we like, Mary?”
“M-Miari,” Miari managed. Her voice sounded distant to her ears. Most things did right now. Galess’s cock was so pretty. And it was dribbling a little at its tip, almost… daintily. Miari realized she needed to close her mouth again, feeling a pang of embarrassment that she kept forgetting.
“Ooh, does she?” Galess squealed. She wriggled from side to side, and Miari felt her whole world bobbing from side to side, bouncing, so… so… “Heehee! Look at her follow it!”
Miari whimpered and shook her head slightly, dimly realizing she was still following the rhythm of the cock only when she heard a chorus of awwwws coming from the maids above her.
“Do you like it, sweetie?” Galess cooed. She started to wiggle in a clearer rhythm, causing her cock to bounce back and forth as it slipped up over the skirt and into the light. Miari felt her world turn opalescent as the cock seemed to almost… catch the light… and oh, it was so pretty… “Do you like my bimbo cock?”
“Of course she does!” Elesma purred in the Ranger’s ear, as her hand lavished pets on Miari’s long, blonde hair. “Bimbos looove bimbos, remember?”
“N… nnuh…” Miari swallowed and closed her mouth, feeling her cheeks heating up. But it was a different fire that drove them now. A different fire that was razing through her whole body. She licked her lips self-consciously as the cock bobbed back and forth, unconsciously letting her lips part once more into an inviting ‘o’.
“It’s so nice to stare at, though!” Elesma said sweetly. She stroked Miari’s hair with one hand, and with the other teased the belt of Miari’s leather trousers. The Ranger gulped, trying not to wriggle at the touch. “It’s… so nice to watch it go back and forth, huh?”
Back and forth. Miari licked her lips again, struggling to keep her thoughts from completely melting into mess in her head. The pretty cock twitched. Back and forth. Oh, gods, it was so… so pretty…
“No,” she heard herself say dreamily, her voice like a gentle breeze. Weak. Easily redirected.
Galess giggled. She squirmed from side to side, and Miari’s head sloshed as the cock followed the motion. “Back and forth,” she cooed, her voice descending upon Miari like soft, warm pink blankets. “Baaack and forth… bouncy-bouncy!”
“Bouncy-bouncy,” Elesma echoed, stroking Miari’s hair, petting her endlessly, soothingly, as if stroking all those silly thoughts from Miari’s weak, melty head… “And it’s so pretty, isn’t it?”
Miari whined and shifted on her knees. Her legs were getting sore, and she longed to fall to her hands and knees for support… even though she knew that would bring her even closer, even closer, and oh, her mouth was watering, and her mouth was open again, so pretty…
“And it’s so…” Elesma’s voice lowered to a sultry purr. “… soooo…” She lavished more attentive pets on Miari’s head, fingers trailing through Miari’s long blonde hair, undoing the practical ponytail so her pretty strawberry-blonde locks could spill down her shoulders… “… sweeeet!~”
Miari’s head lolled. Without even thinking about it, her lips parted again, as a sleepy smile crept across her pretty face, and a single word dripped out from her lips, laden with dreamy desire.