My dear brother,
Wow. Jerrod sounds like a peach and a half. Going to work with an ex-pirate, brother? Really? I taught you better than this. Full pirate or bust!
But seriously, you are getting in so over your head, I can tell, and half of me just wants to sit back and watch the railwyrmwreck. But the other half of me is kinda scared shitless for you. So let me just tell you this, sage advice, sis to bro:
If every single local resident is giving you, the Western dude traveling with the stockman who "doesn't seem to like the natives", the ol' stink-eye, maybe there's something a little bit questionable going on here. Ya think? This does not sound legitimate. Senya, you literally just wrote to me saying "I wonder if Great-Uncle Yvun, who showed up to our parents' funeral with a fucking fey courtesan on each arm, has done something wrong." Think! You're a carpenter, Senya, you should be able to identify, I dunno, rotten wood or sagging foundations or whatever metaphor you like.
Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.
Senya awoke with a violent start. His eyes shot open.
He was not in his bedroom.
He was, he realized, in the living room. On the couch. Apparently, Bobbin hadn't seen fit to share him with the puppies during her... encounter.
He rubbed his forehead. Fuck. That had not been fully consensual. It had been mind-blowing, and he'd absolutely melted under her, but... but it had, um...
He blinked. What had he woken up to, anyways? A bad dream? His dreams hadn't felt bad, though he never did remember them. He just had a faint memory of... buzzing.
Senya got up from the couch, still a bit dazed. It was still early in the morning, or maybe late in the night. He was still pretty tired, too. He stumbled over to the little coffee table and picked up a big, ripe fruit, taking a large bite and chewing it messily. In fairness, it was hard to chew without making a mess—the fruit was positively bursting with flavorful juice—but Senya found he was having trouble eating tidily anyways even on his own. He was normally better-mannered than this. But every bite he took felt almost reflexively sloppy.
It was almost like he was hoping, subconsciously... someone would show up to clean him off.
No. He grimaced. No! He was just... he was just in a bad headspace and making assumptions. He was tired, after all.
He polished off the delicious fruit and tossed the pit into a wastebasket, making his way towards the dining room. And then he heard it.
Off in the distance, metal struck and screeched against metal.
Senya spun towards the front door, which was, he realized, barred with three wrought-iron bars. Since when did the door even have that many locks? He ran forward, mind racing. Had Bobbin told him anything about his? Was there something he was supposed to do?
A scream followed suit, muffled but unmistakeably female—and unmistakeably behind the door. Senya started sliding the bars across.
He was hearing it more clearly now, now that he was paying attention. There was shouting, alright. Most of it sounded fairly distant and muted, but every now and then something particularly noisy would catch his attention—a shout, a scream, a metallic clang.
He lifted the last bar and threw the door open. As an afterthought he was somewhat impressed with himself for, he kept the last bar and gripped it like a club. Better to be armed, after all.
Outside, it was still dark—the sun had not yet even begun to creep over the horizon. Senya stumbled slightly as he ran down the path. There was almost no light, save the stars, and the nut trees that flanked the path did nothing to enhance the illumination.
But he could see the gate. And he could see the silver fence, ten feet tall. Because they were both glowing.
In the long shadows cast by the fence fought Bobbin, and Jerrod, and several scrawny shapes wielding scythes. The scarecrows, he realized. But only... maybe five of them. Where's the rest? There were nineteen on the Ranch, weren't there?
The band fought a much larger force—all humanoids, and all dressed in dark colors. They had what appeared to be very long noses, but as Senya got closer, he realized they were actual beaks, like those of corvids. Masks?
As he drew within a stone's throw of the gate, he stopped short, feeling the ground rumbling beneath his feet. He clutched at a low branch for balance as brilliant rose briars with equally brilliant red blooms burst out of the ground at Bobbin's feet, entangling her legs.
Bobbin let out an infuriated shriek. Senya took a step forward.
"Ooh, I wouldn't do that!"
Senya almost jumped out of his skin. He whirled about, but he couldn't see anyone. From behind, he heard a small explosion, heralded by several male screams.
"Ooh hoo! Up here, boy!" Senya looked up—and suddenly realized that he wasn't alone. A rather small woman with deep brown skin beamed down at him. "Hi there!"
Senya took a step back, heart pounding with sudden alarm. He had never seen this woman before, he was sure. He'd remember those meticulous braids, the strange spiraling pattern they were woven into to give her head an almost conical appearance. She had a cute heart-shaped face, and very, very bright hazel eyes. She was dressed in baggy burlap clothes that seemed just a little too big for her. He was sure he'd never seen her before.
"Who are you?" he demanded, eyes flitting between her and the battle. Bobbin had broken free of the briars and was creating increasingly large blasts of flame. The only trouble was, the fires seemed to evaporate as soon as they crossed past the gate, and the beaked attackers were taking advantage of this to skirt out of her reach whenever she changed her focus. It was like a very deadly game of whackamole.
"Hoo hoo!" The woman giggled. "The name's Coryl, cutie. And I know who you are, of course!" Her eyes flickered, and Senya felt roots surge from the ground and snake around his ankles. "I've seen you! But Bobbin asked me to leave you alone."
Senya struggled, but he only succeeded in falling to his knees. He tried to get up, but too late—roots were already wrapping around one of his wrists, more firmly fastening around his legs to bind him to the dusty earth. "D-did she?" he managed.
"Uh-huh!" She cocked her head, putting a finger to her plump lower lip. "And I'd do anything for Bobbin! But, uh..." Her eyes flickered again, and Senya felt the roots wrapping underneath his arms and legs, fully looping around him. "Boy, she also asked us nutty girls to keep you from getting into trouble by the gate!"
Senya glanced back at the fight, biting his lip. "D-did she."
It wasn't looking good. The attackers were getting bolder—and Bobbin looked tired. The attackers were starting to push further into the Ranch.
"But be very quiet!" Coryl said, suddenly looking very serious. She put her finger to her lips more firmly. "Shh! I wanna have fun without my sisters getting in on it, okay?" Her eyes gleamed with mischief.
Senya smiled back at her. "Okay."
He blinked. He wasn't sure why he'd said that—the word had just popped out. It just seemed... natural. Of course he'd stay quiet. There were a million good reasons for it.
Like how Coryl's face lit up in glee when he promised it. "Yay! What a fun Master! Now, come on up here..."
Senya felt a little jolt and realized he was being lifted into the air, rotated around by the roots to lie as though in a hammock. He came to rest up right next to the branch, dangling a bit uncomfortably. Swiftly, branches took the place of roots, cradling him right in front of Coryl's eager eyes.
"Ooh, gosh," she murmured, eyes gleaming as she beheld his cock—still fairly flaccid, by his standards these days. "You're so... it's been ages since the Master played with us nutty girls." She giggled, batting her eyelashes at him. "But you'll be playing with us a lot more from now on, right?"
"Yeah, of course." Senya gave a weak smile. Of course he'd come back to Coryl. It was silly to even suggest otherwise.
"Great!" Coryl leaned in, taking in a deep breath, smelling his manhood. "Aaaand... up!"
Senya's cock sprang to life in mere seconds. Senya actually groaned as he felt it tingling, blood rushing in, hardening it faster than he'd thought possible. With it came arousal, and buzzing pleasure, and the faint rush of obedience. Coryl squealed in delight at this. "Yay! Such a nice cock!"
"H-how..." Senya stared in wonder at his cock, then at his captor.
"Oh, silly thing." Coryl moved up towards his face, caressing his cheek and smiling down at him. "People have a hard time saying no to me when they're touching me and my oils." She giggled. "I guess I just bring out the honesty in people, don't I? They say what they want to say around me, don't they?"
"Uh... yeah, I guess." He gave a nervous laugh. Coryl was right, obviously, but he was starting to worry that he might be losing control of the situation. "Y-yeah, good point, Coryl."
She clapped her hands excitedly. "Great! So, you want me to touch your dick, right?"
"Right." In spite of his worries, Senya's heart had almost ached with longing from the second she said it. Any part of her, any inch of her perfect, soft skin touching his member...
"And you're gonna tell me exactly how it makes me feel?"
"Oh, of course." Senya was struck with a thought, though, and that thought made him nervous. "But, uh... you're not gonna brainwash me or anything, right? And no mind control?"
"Of course not!" Coryl actually laughed at this. "Hazelnut dryads don't brainwash! We just make people more fun! Get rid of the, uh, shells." Her eyes glittered as she reached out towards his manhood. "Until only the core remains."
"Oh, good!" Senya smiled at her. She smiled back. "I'm glad you aren't going to brainwash me. People always do that."
"Not me!" she cooed, her fingers settling on his manhood, making him buck eagerly in her clutches. "Ooh, you like that, don't you?"
"Y-yes," he gasped.
And then he heard another explosion—this one much closer—and Senya remembered that he sort of already had plans for tonight. He glanced over, heart racing, and saw that Bobbin and Jerrod were fleeing back toward the farmhouse, followed by the scarecrows. He heard Bobbin yell something, but he couldn't make it out from here.
And the masked attackers began to pour into the Ambrosia Ranch.
It was a strange sight, seeing those masked figures racing across the brush—made stranger by how Coryl had begun to pleasure his cock with long, slow strokes. "How's this feel?" she chirped.
"G-good!" Senya said, squirming slightly. He watched as several of the masked figures seemed to stagger upon crossing the threshold of the gate. One of them actually fell to the ground and started retching. Another fell to the ground and did not move at all. Many of them slowed down or clutched their stomachs and heads, but most seemed unaffected. And most of those who were affected did not stop. "Feels... good!"
"And this?" she cooed, rubbing his glans with her thumb.
"Feels nice," he whimpered. The iron bar finally fell from his trembling fingertips, but he barely noticed. "Feels like... feels like pleasure... 's making it h-hard to watch the..."
"Yes," she cooed, apparently not listening, "it feels nice, doesn't it?"
"I'm so glad you're being so honest with me," she said happily. "Doesn't it feel like admitting it makes it so much more real?"
She started to stroke faster. "And now? How do you feel now?"
Senya's eyes widened as the blissful touches sped up, stoking his orgasm faster and faster. "Feels like... oh, f-fuck... like I need to... like... can't think..." He was panting, but he struggled to focus himself. "C-Coryl, the..."
"And this?" Coryl whispered, her eyes smoldering with desire. Senya couldn't even see what she was doing. But he felt it—felt the touches somehow become smoother, slicker, felt her fingers running fast over his cock head, building and building and building—
"G-good," he cried. "S-so good! Coryl, Bobbin's in trouble!"
Her attentions didn't slow, but her questions did. He risked a look into her hazel eyes and saw that she was frowning. She let out a little sigh. "Yes. She is, isn't she?"
"N-need to help!" he whimpered, bucking slightly into her hand. "Oh, C-Coryl, feels so—so—can't help myse—"
And then he was cumming, and his mind went green with pleasure. He bucked and thrashed into her hand, heedless of Coryl, heedless of Bobbin, heedless of everything except his own helpless, honest bliss.
As he slowly recovered from the bliss, he realized that Coryl had stopped stroking him. She was biting her lip. She stared at Senya's cock, then over her shoulder towards the battle.
Senya couldn't see what was happening, but the group had already passed him and Coryl and made it to the farmhouse. There was more shouting—hopefully, the other scarecrows had arrived. Would that be enough to turn the tide?
"Ugh," Coryl mumbled. "Okay, but you'll come back later, right?"
He beamed at her. "Of course!" Of course he would. Coryl could make him feel so much better, he was sure, if only he had time to let her fully enjoy him.
Her smile returned, just a little. "Still love me?" she whispered, leaning in to kiss him.
"Always," he said, accepting the kiss. Coryl was so kind and reasonable. "Can you help at all?"
"Hamadryad, cutie." She shrugged as the branches started to lower him down. "No-can-do!"
The branches gradually lay him down on the ground, and he staggered to his feet. His head was still a bit buzzy, but the second the branches stopped touching him, it began to clear. He stooped and picked up the iron bar.
But as he turned to run away towards the battle, a thought occurred to him, and he risked one more glance at the strange hamadryad. "Coryl?
"Yes?" Coryl beamed down at him. "Changed your mind?"
"Y—no!" Senya rubbed his eyes, struggling to fight off the temptation of her oils. "Coryl, did Bobbin tell you to keep me from going near the gate tonight in particular, or did she tell you bef—"
He heard a high-pitched scream, and realized he recognized it.
He turned and started running up the path.
Seven was a bit... well, a bit tied up when Senya arrived on the battlefield.
The tide of battle seemed to have shifted with the arrival of the other fourteen scarecrows, but it was still a near thing. Jerrod was on the ground, straddled by one of the masked figures. It was hard to tell if he was fighting or... well, on that note, Bobbin was wrestling one of the masked figures. The masked figure rolled on top of Bobbin, and Senya saw several bright bushy red tails flash around her.
Senya's mouth opened slightly in wonder. A kitsune!
But Seven—the scarecrow who had been kindest to him since his arrival—was immersed in long, slimy vines. She was struggling mightily, and for good reason: One vine was wrapped around her throat, choking her, while two others pistoned in and out out of her ass and pussy. Every thrust forced gasps and moans out of her, and with every moan, her struggles slowed, just a fraction.
It was fucking the resistance from her, Senya realized, feeling an empathetic twinge. Her thrashings were getting weaker and weaker, her eyes dimmer and dimmer. She was starting to whimper—not out of alarm, but out of need for more.
And the perpetrator watched through beady mask eyes, one hand thrust beneath its cloak. It was plainly stroking itself.
Senya stared in amazement at the scene. The battle had arrived at the back of the farmhouse—Bobbin's forces had evidently managed to pin the enemy against the sheep enclosure, and the weresheep watched drowsily, looking amazingly disinterested in the scene. The enemy was trapped, and the pitched battle was slowly turning into a rout.
Or, he thought idly, seeing how some of the scarecrows were beginning to 'subdue' their combatants, a rut.
But Seven had been caught behind enemy lines. Nobody was coming to save her.
Senya hesitated. Nobody was looking at him just yet. The crows and scarecrows were largely occupied with one another, and Bobbin and the kitsune seemed to be engaged in some sort of competitive pleasuring. Bobbin, with her fast fingers and remarkably long tongue, appeared to be winning. She rapidly stroked two of the kitsune's tails, and Senya heard a loud moan.
He raised his iron bar and ran headlong into the fray. A crow turned just as he ran past, but its distraction led to a scarecrow swinging beneath its legs and dropping it to the grass. The crow let out a masculine grunt; it never had the chance to get back up before she was upon him.
Senya ran up to the fence behind the masked figure, his heart pounding like a smith's hammer. This close, he could see that she had a slim, willowy build, and judging by her soft moans as she stroked herself, was probably feminine. A vine dryad?
He breathed in, and smelled the rich scented oils coming off the vines. His head momentarily swam.
And he swung the iron bar down.
When Senya felt the bar impact the woman's skull, he at first thought for sure he'd broken it. It felt like everything had suddenly gone very quiet. There was nothing else. Nothing except that dull, murderous thud.
The crow let out a little half-moan, half-groan—one finger still stuck in her cunt—and collapsed to the ground.
Seven stared at him a moment, as the vines started to slow down, loosening around her.
"It's the Master!" a woman shouted. Senya had no idea if it was friend or foe.
"Get him!" That was probably a foe. It was echoed by many shouts in the Eastern tongue.
"Get him out of here!"
"How the hell—"
Seven lurched from the vines and grabbed his hand. "It's unsafe for you here, Master," the scarecrow whispered, her chest still heaving from her recent exertion. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."
Seven gave him a little grin.
Then she hurled him over the fence.
Her strength and speed caught Senya completely off-guard. One moment, his feet were on the ground. The next, he was flying through the air, spinning like a maple seed. He barely managed an, "Ah!" before he thudded into the grass within the pen.
Senya took a moment of silence to register what had just happened, a moment to feel the impact of his head striking the grass, a moment to recover and realize he was unharmed. It took him these three minuscule moments to catch up with reality.
And by then, it was far too late for poor Senya.
He felt a fluffy head nuzzle his bare toes. "Master," he heard a woman whisper.
"Ooh..." A pair of gleaming pale green eyes came to meet his, and a smile danced across Angora's lush lips. "Back for more, Master? I thought you might be. You seemed to... enjoy me last time." Her breath was barely a whisper.
Senya rubbed his eyes with one hand as he felt the other being gently taken and guided to pet the soft, wonderfully soft wool of another fleece sprite's firm breasts. "N-no," he mumbled, feeling a familiar exhaustion setting in. "B-ba'le..."
He was too tired to even properly pronounce the word, and he heard giggling all around as the warm bodies started to press into him from all sides. The sounds of the fight seemed to be getting dimmer and dimmer, like he was hearing them from down a wide tunnel.
Angora yawned, leaning in and nuzzling his cheek. His eyelids fluttered. "It's so nice to see you again," she whispered, a happy, drowsy smile on her face.
"I..." Senya's thoughts sort of... derailed, as he felt the softness of a fleece sprite's nubile body pressing against his back. He was practically submerged. Drowned out. He yawned. "I c-can'..."
"Just rest a while," Angora cooed, kissing him on the lips and wrapping her furry arms around his head. As he went limp in her grasp, she pressed his head gently against her pillowy breasts, forcing him to feel their sleep-inducing power directly. "So sleepy..."
"N-no..." Senya's eyes fluttered.
But he didn't stand a chance. They were nuzzling all over him now, wrapping him in a cuddly, plush embrace, effortlessly reducing him to a sleepy, horny mess. He heard them giggling as one of them started stroking his cock with that soft, luxuriant wool, and he knew they were very happy to see him again.
Wasn't that all that mattered?
No! He tried to fight the waves of drowsiness that were addling his mind. There was a fight! A... there was a, um...
He couldn't hear it anymore. All he could hear was the fleece sprites' heavy breathing now as they embraced him. Their silky wool now covered him, sending his mind spiraling into a dreamy bliss.
"Babtle..." he mumbled against Angora's chest.
Angora giggled. He felt her petting his hair, rocking him gently against her body. They weren't going for his cock. Not yet. They seemed so happy to just... hold him. To wear him down. "You had a nightmare, Master" she whispered in his ear. "Cuddle with us. We'll make those bad dreams go away.
"B-buh..." He was having trouble remembering what he was trying to say. He was so tired. He yawned.
He was sandwiched in completely. Fleece sprites were in all directions, and his mind was drifting off into happy static.
"We can have fun here, see?" Angora cooed, planting sweet kisses on his neck, atop his head (pressing his face into her cleavage as she did so), and on his cheek. "Don't you like cuddling?"
"See?" Her laughter was soft and sweet, just like her. It stroked at his brain, soothing him into slumber. "And I bet we could think of even more fun things to do, Master, once you're... settled in." She hugged him to her chest. His brain was going so lovely and quiet. "Once you're nice and sleepy, we can have so much fun together. No more bad dreams."
"Shh. Shh." She stroked his hair lovingly. Behind him, he felt another fleece sprite rubbing her soft, silky body against him. His mind was drifting away from him. "Just relax. Enjoy. Enjoy us."
And he wanted to. He truly, truly wanted to. It felt so good to relax in her arms, to let them love him. But... hadn't there been something important going on?
He heard Angora yawn, and he felt her yawn, too. His eyelids were drifting closed. "Nice, sleepy Master. So nice. So good. Just drifting deep, deep down into pleasure..."
He felt kisses and nuzzles between his shoulderblades. "So sleepy..." cooed a fleece sprite.
"Can't stay awake..."
"Poor, sleepy, sleepy Master..."
"Just let us take care of you," whispered the fleece sprite between his legs. He felt her breath warm and tingly on his cock. "We'll take you to dreamland. You can feel so nice there. So many nice dreams to have there."
"Can't you feel your mind sinking?" Angora cooed, petting his head over and over as he lay on her breasts, lulling him away with her long, loving strokes through his hair. "So sleeeeepy!" She giggled. They all giggled. They all knew just how sleepy he was.
His vision swam of gorgeous pale green eyes, soft white fleece. His mind was sinking deeper and deeper with every shuddering breath he took in. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier with every stroke Angora bestowed upon his hair. He just wanted to sleep. He'd woken up early for some reason that no longer seemed important, and now it was bedtime. He knew it was bedtime because the fleece sprites said so. Because they always knew when it was time to sleep.
It was time to sleep.
Senya's eyelids fluttered once more, with one final effort, and then at last settled shut. He was asleep before they'd finished closing.
And not long after, he felt a warm, wet tightness descend around his cock, and he entered a wet dream like no other.
"Good boy," Bobbin cooed, as he mindlessly lapped at her pussy. "My good, forgetful boy!"
"Mm!" he moaned, clutched in the soft grasp of of the incredibly soft, silky blankets. His puppy girls surrounded him, keeping him from moving, entangling him in the blankets so all he could do was lick. They weren't licking him—they were licking Bobbin, and she was moaning and cooing with every sensuous touch.
The puppy girls paused and looked at him, heavy eyelids fluttering curiously.
"Master wants his puppies?" asked one of them, tilting her head adorably.
"Master is a good puppy," said another, giggling.
"Mm!" Senya cried, twitching helplessly in their grasp. And Bobbin laughed.
"You love it, don't you?" she hissed. "Love what you're doing to yourself. I do."
She reached down and ran one finger over his throbbing manhood. And he came.
"Am I a good kitty?" Kitten burbled, watching him as he lay in the fleece sprites' arms. She was perched on the fence, giggling as one fleece sprite bounced up and down in his lap. Every bounce seemed to make him sleepier and sleepier. The sprite beamed down at him.
"Good kitty!" he cried, as he came into the sheep girl's loving embrace. The sheep girl moaned and batted her eyelashes at him, and he felt the orgasm stretching out, longer and longer until he felt like he would never stop. From the fence, he heard the telltale squishy sounds of Kitten's masturbation.
"Can I cuuuum?" she sang.
"Ah—" Senya was panting. Was he awake? Was this a dream? Already, he felt the pleasurable slumber seeping back into his mind as more fleece sprites joined them.
"Can I, Master?" Kitten asked. She was grinning, clearly being playful, but there was a tone of urgency to it. "Can I? Can I, Master?"
"Mm..." His eyes fluttered closed.
"Master?" Kitten's voice turned frantic, husky with need. Her squishy sounds were coming faster now. "Can I? Can—m-mew? Mew? Mew?"
He was in Miss Scarlet's bed, now laden with silky furs. Miss Scarlet smiled down at him. "Who's my good pet?" she purred, offering him a forkful of spicy curried eggs.
"I am!" he moaned, opening his mouth wide. And then her lips were on his cock, and the furs were moving, stroking his whole body. He started to pant, then moan, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even wake up.
He was watching four gorgeous blonde-haired women with plump red lips and the posteriors of enormous honeybees. Pretty enough on their own, they were locked in passionate embrace around a fifth woman, who had platinum-blonde hair and particularly plush red lips. They kissed all over her body, and she cried out, panting, whining.
Senya stared in wonder.
And then she was on top of him, wiggling her large, stingered ass in the air as she pinned him against the soft, fuzzy bodies of several of her kin. Her breasts pressed against his face, smothering him. "You want me!" she squealed, and the words seemed to echo, filling his mind with a singular fact, a singular desire. "Need me!"
"Mm!" He couldn't even breathe. But this only made the beembo laugh.
"Wanna feel me?" she purred, rising up and descending down. There was no delay, no teasing. She just impaled herself on him, and within seconds he was cumming. "Miss me? Need me?"
"Mm-hm!" He felt like he was drowning in her tits. She was so soft, so smooth. She seemed to be vibrating against his whole body in a way that was... exquisite. He already needed her.
"So desperate!" she squeaked, rocking back and forth atop him. "So obedient!"
"Mm-hm!" His mind was drowning in stickiness. Her honey was gushing out, covering his crotch in tingly juices.
She lifted his chin up so he could stare into her eyes, and she beamed at him. Her pussy started to contract around his cock, milking a slow orgasm from him. "Every time you cum, I want you to think of my lips!" she cooed.
And she took him in a kiss sweeter than any other.
Senya was immersed in the softness of the slime girl once more, her pink mass totally enveloping his lower half. His cock was trapped within her, the hapless subject of a slow, delicious suction. She stuck out her lower lip in a cartoonish pout. "You didn't wanna let me be Master before."
"Ah... ah..." He bucked helplessly into her as she built him towards a fast-approaching orgasm.
Her smile was radiant. "But I bet you want it now, right?" Her voice was treacherously sweet, like flypaper.
"Uh-huuuh!" She bounced her breasts together, giggling like mad. "Well, I can still make it happen! You should come back and, um, cum your brains out!" She fluttered her eyelashes. "Doesn't that sound nice and yummy?"
"Can I cum, Master?"
He blinked at her. Her eyes were wide as her slimy body rolled around his cock. "Mew! Mew!"
She leaned in close and started licking his face. "Mewww!"
And then she was Kitten, licking his face clean of messes, and he heard himself whimper, "Cum. Cumcumcumcumcumcum—"
The slime girl screamed, and kept screaming. And then he came, and he was screaming, too, but soon this all gave way to easy exhaustion. And his dreams continued to drift.
He was tied to silken ropes in a strange, dark room. His lower half was immersed in a strange pool of glowing viscous fluid. It sloshed and sucked at his cock like the tightest pussy, like the softest pair of lips.
And he could not stop cumming.
As he screamed and begged—begged for more, begged for it to stop, for the nonstop barrage of sensation to slow—he heard a soft giggle.
"Aw. He's been so much fun."
"Maybe," Bobbin said, sounding more tired than truly annoyed, "but the night's over, and we need him back. You can play with him more later."
Angora yawned. Senya felt her lungs reverberate, his face still crammed into her fluffy breasts. "He's such a fun Master," she breathed, petting Senya's head. "Like a little doll! Heehee!"
The fleece sprites all giggled at this as they petted and licked and rubbed Senya's whole body. Bobbin seemed to smile a little.
Senya slowly became aware that his cock was inside one of the fleece sprite's pussies, and he was being very gradually milked. The fleece sprites were not fast lovers. They were content, it seemed, to only bounce once every few seconds, slowly, luxuriantly pouring pleasure into his limp body. But somehow his cock was going wild.
He closed his eyes, yawning. Back to his sweet dreams. That last one had been a bit disturbing, but...
But now the fleece sprites were releasing him, and he found himself hoisted up into the air. He let out an indignant whine as he realized he was being cradled like a baby. Bobbin shot him a little smirk. "Enjoy your little nap, Master?"
It was difficult to pinpoint the precise source of his confusion. Senya had a lot of confusion coming from a lot of different directions. One question, however, managed to break through the rest of the herd and sprint to the front of his mind.
"Who were those people?"
Bobbin grimaced. She was still carrying Senya, to his profound discomfort—being cradled like this was distinctly infantilizing, and he wasn't sure he wanted Bobbin doing it to him right now, in his state. "Crows. I'd have thought that would be obvious, Master."
"They..." Senya rubbed his eyes. "They nearly beat us!"
"No, they didn't."
"Everything was under control, Master." Bobbin rolled her eyes. "With... certain uncontrolled variables." She looked back down at him pointedly.
Senya felt naked under that stare. "I... but... Seven was in trouble! They made it all the way to the farmhouse! They've never come that close before, have they?"
"Oh, they have." Bobbin shrugged. "Quite often, in fact."
"Master, think clearly." Bobbin stopped walking and set Senya down on a large tree stump. They were out in the middle of nowhere in the Ranch, bamboo stalks rising high around them. She crossed her arms. "The fence weakens them. Letting them enter isn't a loss, it's a tactical necessity. You think we could take on thirty humans and a dozen fey with our numbers without taking losses? It's smart to let them in."
Senya snorted. "Yeah, until they set fire to the farmhouse."
"They wouldn't do that."
"How do you know?"
Bobbin's tongue went into her cheek. She tapped her foot for a moment. "I just do," she said. "They don't want to burn down the farmhouse. They want to kill its keepers."
Senya stared up into her eyes. He tried to gauge if she was telling the truth, but in all honesty, he just wasn't a very good judge of character. Bobbin looked uneasy, and he didn't exactly think her answer meant much. But he didn't know for sure.
Bobbin reached forward and lightly touched his cheek with the backs of her knuckles. Senya blinked. "Come, now, Master," she said, smiling fondly. "You have become altogether too breakable of late. Can you walk?"
Senya sucked in a deep breath. "I... I think I—hey!" Without waiting for his attempt, Bobbin had reached down and scooped him back up in her arms. He struggled pettily, but her grip was like gentle iron. "Where are we going?"
"To... visit some livestock." Bobbin had a knowing smile that Senya wasn't sure he liked. No, he was sure he didn't like it. "You, um, haven't met them yet."
Senya groaned. "There are still livestock that haven't tried to fuck my brains out yet?"
"Oh, yes, Master." Bobbin giggled musically, flashing him a coy smile. "In fact, I'd say that very few have merely tried."
Jerrod was waiting at the base of the hill. The stockman was fully dressed, as usual, in worker's overalls and a bulky jacket. The brawny blond man gave a little salute as Bobbin approached, Senya in tow. "Bobbin! Master." He was clearly suppressing a grin. "Hope the walk was refreshin'."
"Can it, Jerrod," Senya muttered. "Where is this? Where are we going?" He tried to look around, but it was hard to make out more than the base of the hill from the way Bobbin cradled him. He could just make out what looked like a cottage atop the hill.
Jerrod raised an eyebrow, glancing at Bobbin. "You sure about this?"
Bobbin smirked. "Are you?"
"It's gonna be a pain, is all. Especially if he can't, uh..." Jerrod's lip quirked.
Senya looked between the straw boss and the hob, eyes narrowed. "What are you two talking about?"
Bobbin looked down at him, stroking his cheek in a way that made him feel... uncomfortably at-ease. "We're getting you your amulet, Master!" she said. "Atop this hill are alchemists who can craft it for us. I'd hope to get this started earlier, but... well, better late than never!"
"Alchemists? You said they were livestock."
"Come along, Master," Bobbin said happily, taking the first step of the trek up the hill. "No time for dilly-dallying."
"You're the one carrying me!"
Bobbin and Jerrod seemed curiously hurried as they passed beneath the strange clover trees. Senya shivered, staring up into the purple blaze of color. What was it about this strange tree that so... captivated him? Was it the color? The buzzing?
The moaning and wet sounds coming from up above the tree?
He licked his lips. A strange memory drifted into his head, a memory from a dream: A platinum blonde with a bee-like posterior taking him into her arms. His cock twitched at the memory, though he wasn't sure why it surfaced now.
He was so captivated by the moans from above, he didn't even notice that they'd come to the door until Bobbin landed three heavy knocks. He started from the sudden sharp noise, and she gave him a little comforting pat on the head.
The door opened mere seconds later. Senya swallowed as he saw who had opened it.
She was a gorgeous, petite blonde, with wide hips, a massive bust, and an impossibly narrow waist. She was dressed in a very short skirt and tight t-shirt that vaguely reminded him of the uniforms of the oft-fetishized academy pep bards back home. Her hair was a brilliant gold and her eyes gleamed the color of flowing honey. Her lips, a similar shade, curved upward in a delighted smile. "Ooh! Bobbi! Didn't you already come by this morning?"
Bobbin smirked. "Would you be complaining if I came a second time, Sylvia?" She leaned in, bringing Senya's head right beneath 'Sylvia's' jiggling breasts. He stared up at them helplessly, noting how the t-shirt seemed barely capable of containing them. Senya's vision of Bobbin was obscured by the breasts, but he heard sloppy wet kissing sounds.
Sylvia's voice came out wispy. "Mm... never, never, never."
"Remember what we discussed earlier, Sylvia." Bobbin pulled back, and Senya saw that Sylvia was getting very red-faced. "After. And no discussing... previous dalliances."
"Got it, honey!" Sylvia giggled. "Like, fine by me. Not like he'd mind, though." She winked at Senya, still held in Bobbin's arms. "Hey, babe, you wouldn't mind hearing about me getting licked out by a cute catgirl, wouldja?"
Senya swallowed. He suddenly had a strange sweet taste in his mouth, like a distant aftertaste, as he gazed into Sylvia's bright amber eyes. "Nn..."
"Sylvia," Bobbin said sternly, though she seemed slightly amused—and not insignificantly turned-on, Senya noticed from her flushed breasts. Wait, did Sylvia say Bobbin already visited them this morning? How did she even find time?
"Teehee! Sorry, Bobbi." Sylvia bounced back slightly, causing other parts of her to bounce, too. Senya's eyes instinctively followed her breasts. "Habit! I'll go get Culata and Vespula!"
She pranced off, skirt flying up slightly as she went. Senya couldn't believe it was accident, entirely, even as short as it was—again, he thought of the pep bards, and their reputation for borderline burlesque performances at the games. Sylvia wanted them to see this. After a pause, Jerrod and Bobbin (and Senya) followed after.
"Uh, Bobbin?" Senya squirmed slightly, and he felt Bobbin's grip tighten slightly. "Could you please put me down?" The thought of being seen by these gorgeous alchemists in his current position was uniquely humiliating.
"Nope," Bobbin said. She grinned down at him, batting her eyelashes in a way that made his head spin. "I think you like it there, don't you? Isn't it nice to be nice and safe with me?"
"Uh—" Senya swallowed. Her words were triggering a special kind of submissiveness in him right now, and he wasn't sure he liked her exploiting it. Again.
"It's your choice, Master, as always." Bobbin looked away, chuckling. "If you really want to be put down, you need only order it! Your most trivial wish is my command. I just think you're passing on some nice experiences."
Senya swallowed. He hesitated, then opened his mouth to issue a command—
And then they entered a dining room area, and his mouth stayed open. He blinked, staring in wonder at his new surroundings. In the dining room area there stood a coffee table flanked by two couches and a massive soft armchair. Nearby was a bar blocking off a small kitchen area.
The whole room smelled sweet, and was quite heady and warm. But it wasn't the smell or heat that made him trail off. It was...
... it was that it all looked so familiar.
"Bobbi!" squealed two high-pitched voices in unison. And two drop-dead gorgeous blondes, each nearly identical to Sylvia save in height and slight differences in hairstyle, came skipping into the room from another door. Senya stared at them, still lost in his reverie. They were quite beautiful, of course—all Thriae were—but... there was something more. Wasn't there? Those squeals of joy were so familiar.
The three Thriae massed around him and Bobbin, and for a moment, Bobbin clutched him tighter than ever—but whether in protectiveness or reflexive arousal, Senya wasn't sure. The Thriae certainly seemed keen to drop everything and fuck right there and then. They circled around the two of them, cooing over Bobbin like a beloved pet, or like pets greeting a beloved master.
It was hard to tell the difference, especially with Thriae.
But then Bobbin's spell passed, and she smirked. "Have a seat, girls. As discussed."
The Thriae bit their lips, looking disappointed, but they made their way to sit on one couch. Jerrod, Bobbin and Senya went to sit on the opposite couch. Senya's eyes lingered on the armchair. Part of him wanted to ask Bobbin to sit there, as it looked incredibly comfortable. Another part of him wanted to stay as far away from it as possible.
Sylvia, Lala and Lata sat fully upright with perfect posture, chests thrust out as though their breasts didn't weigh them down in the least. They smiled at him as Bobbin finally laid him down to a proper sitting position. He bit his lip.
"Hi, Master," Lata said shyly. "So nice to..."
Lala elbowed her and beamed at Senya. "So nice to meet you, Master! I'm Vespula. This, like, total bimbo is Culata."
Senya managed a weak smile. "So... Lala and Lata?"
For some reason, this made all three Thriae start giggling like crazy. Senya bit his lip, feeling like he was missing part of a joke. His remark hadn't been that clever. In fact, he wasn't even sure why it had come to mind. It wasn't exactly an intuitive pair of nicknames. Those names had just drifted into his head.
Finally, they settled back down. Still uneasy, Senya glanced at Bobbin and Jerrod.
Bobbin looked relaxed—maybe a bit too relaxed, actually. She noticed his look and grinned at him, mouthing the words be nice. He couldn't shake the feeling that she had significantly less reason to be worried than he did, and perhaps considerably more reason to want to be nice to these women.
Jerrod, on the other hand, looked almost as tense as Senya felt. The stockman didn't notice Senya's glance—his eyes were fixed on the Thriae, as though determined to spot any signs of perfidy.
Senya realized that these two both being so distracted meant that he was probably expected to speak up. And indeed, the three Thriae were staring at him with wide, vacant smiles., as if seeing him reminded him of something.
"S-so..." he said, biting his lip. "I... I need an amulet." He gestured at Jerrod. "Like what you made his."
"Yes." Sylvia giggled. "We've heard you, like, have been having a ton of fun, Master!"
"Brigitte sure seemed happy," Lala said slyly.
"Gosh," Lata said, putting a finger to her lips as though deep in thought, "I wonder if he's got a tongue to match that big ol' dick of his! I know she super-loves it when her toys, um, fill themselves up!"
Senya felt his cheeks heating up. He didn't like the knowing looks these Thriae were giving him. And how would they even know what he'd been doing on the Ranch? Had someone told them? "I... I, um..."
"Um," Lata mocked, "I, um, like, gosh, I just can't stop staring at your giant fucking titties, Lala!"
To his horror, Senya realized he was staring at Lala's chest. Lala knowingly pressed her breasts together and jiggled them. Senya's mouth was dry. Unable to help himself, he licked his lips.
"Gosh," Sylvia said, shaking her head sadly, "he really is a stud." Senya's cock twitched at that word, and his breath caught. Why... why does that word turn me on so much? "Like, Bobbi, I'm not a miracleworker. Are you sure you don't wanna just make him a sexy li'l boytoy? 'Cause I've got, omigosh, tons of amulet recipes that can make him nice and pliant!"
Bobbin gave a little slightly dreamy smile. "He's already plenty pliant, trust me."
Senya bit his lip, tearing his eyes away from Lala's rack to stare down at his lap, where his erection was growing rapidly. He hurriedly shifted his gaze to the floor, and he was horrified to feel his cock twitch excitedly when this spurred another round of giggling from the three honeyed fey.
"But seriously," Bobbin said, chuckling slightly herself, "we want him taken care of. Can you do that for me, girls? Can you make him a nice little amulet to make it easier for him to run this ranch?"
"Hm. I dunnoooo..." He heard Sylvia smacking her lips. "Gosh, it's like, he's so cute like this? But you're sooo cute when you're begging, Bobbi, like, omigosh."
"Omigosh, Sylvia, you're such a bimbo!" Senya heard a wet sound as he saw Lala's hand move towards Sylvia from the corner of his eye. He barely stopped himself from looking up. Look at the floor. Look at the floor. Nice varnishing. Floor. Floor.
"Yeah," Lata hissed, "you're coming off, like, mega-desperate, you big slut!" He heard another wet sound as Lata leaned down towards Sylvia's chest. He bit his lip hard, desperate to look but knowing he'd be damned if he did.
"I-I just—aah! P-please, nnn... ooh... n-not in front of Bobbi, guYYS!" Sylvia's voice turned into a high-pitched squeak on the last word.
Senya dared a glance over at Jerrod, who had his hands clasped over his lap, then at Bobbin, who was chewing her knuckles as she watched Lala's fingers dip in and out of Sylvia's cunt as Lata suckled at Sylvia's nipples through the t-shirt, leaving the cloth a saliva-soaked mess, alternating between teasing little loud sucks and long, moaning licks. Sylvia's eyes were half-closed, and her chest was heaving as she tried to absorb her fellow Thriaes' assaults in silence, but it was clear she was losing the battle—with every tickle, every suckle, every lick, her gasps got just a bit heavier, her moans got just a bit louder.
Senya dimly realized he was staring straight at them now.
And they knew it quite well, he also dimly realized, noticing that Lala and Lata were both stroking themselves and watching him intently, twin smiles on their angelic faces.
Lala glanced over at Bobbin with a coy grin. "This new Master is super-duper fun!" she sang. He watched Lata lapping rapidly over one nipple, then another, leaving both slick with her poisoned saliva. Did Thriae honey affect other Thriae? Surely not. But Sylvia was starting to rock back and forth against her fellow fey's attentions nonetheless. "Can we keep him, Bobbi? Can we?"
"Oh, I don't know," Bobbin said, sounding amused. "Maybe if you're all very good girls."
Senya's heart plummeted. He knew Bobbin had to be joking, knew she would never really allow it, but he didn't like how casual and flirtatious she was with these dangerous fey. Didn't she know how... how...
... how sexy it was when Lala's hand pulled out and teasingly tickled around Sylvia's lips, making Sylvia taste herself, making Sylvia's eyelashes flutter and her moans come out as weak high-pitched giggles?
"I think he's having trouble with us," Lala said, bouncing her feet excitedly. "He likes watching bimbos fuck! Bobbi, can we give him, like, a demo? Can we? Can we?"
"Bobbin," Jerrod said warningly.
There was a pause. Sylvia's eyes halfway opened, and she stared dimly at Senya as her moans rose in volume and pitch. She was cumming, he realized, seeing how her pussy leaked that most deadly of natural toxins: gooey, amber Thriae honey. "Mm. Nnn. Ooh." She pursed her lips with every drawn-out murmur, smiling slightly at him.
"Okay," Bobbin said at last, taking in a deep, slightly shaky breath. "E-enough playtime, girls. It's time to talk shop."
And instantly, the two Thriae returned to their perfect upright postures. Sylvia was left breathless as Lata rose up, licking Sylvia's honey off her lips, and smiled suggestively at Senya. Lala pulled her fingers out and started sucking them clean. Sylvia let out several little keening whines, but they paid her no heed. It was clear where the pecking order lay, at least where poor Sylvia was concerned.
"Okay," Lata said, rolling her eyes slightly, "let's talk shop. Sylvia?"
Sylvia took a deep breath, recovering for a moment, then leaned in sharply.
Senya found himself taken aback by the intensity of her gaze. Sylvia beamed at him, eyes gleaming like twin suns. He found himself leaning in slightly, leaning closer to those two pretty lights, to the pretty woman who was smiling so enthusiastically at him. Just staring at her felt like it was melting his will into putty.
It was clear where the pecking order lay.
"Soooo," she cooed, licking her lips ever-so-subtly, "Master. Wanna keep, like, getting your brains fucked out by immortal hotties?"
He found he didn't have words to respond.