Four Days Ago

Merisi pursed her lips, staring up at the big, silver-wrought gates. The fence stood proud and powerful, shimmering with anti-fey wards. The errand girl recognized them instantly from her bardic schooling, of course. She wasn't sure she much cared for them.

Well, guess this is the place, she thought. She crouched, then whistled a single note.

A powerful gust of wind rose up around her, sending her flying into the air. Merisi—who was not that tall to begin with—rose high above the gates, doing her best not to flail. Her ebon hair billowed behind her as she landed. Fortunately, she had dressed for such stunts, and her wrappings did not even slip a little.

It took her a moment to recover from the landing, however.

After that moment had passed, she straightened and put her hands on her hips.

What a curious locale!

Hazelnut trees—definitely not native to her Wild East homeland—lined a walkway leading up to a humble little farmhouse. She had to squint to make it out in the late twilight, but there it was. Nice house, but something about it put her off. It took Merisi a second to recognize what: After traveling through native settlements for the last few days, she couldn't help but notice how extremely... western the construction was. Lacratians never remembered to twist the chimneys.

She didn't like the looks of those hazelnut trees, either. Merisi had been a bit of a mindless adventurer for the first few years after coming of age, and she'd spent a week or two in the arms of some excessively agreeable hazelnut dryads. You could never trust a tree that looked quite so healthy.

No time for that tonight! Humming a spell to help herself concentrate, Merisi grabbed a few shadows and furtively scurried beneath them.

It was a good time to be stealing shadows, but even at the twilight, shadows were thin. They were already breaking apart by the time she made it to the other side of the treeline. Merisi glanced back, and for a moment, she thought she could see a pair of pretty brown eyes watching her disappointedly from the branches.

Merisi gave a merry grin and wave. Maybe next time, hon.

She turned, her expression turning serious again, as she approached the front door. After all the hassle this young man had caused the Bardic Orders' Postal Service, he'd better give a damn good tip. She had half a mind to lecture them about a Lacratian-owned ranch in unsettled forest, but Yuuma had advised caution here. This was probably an illegal enterprise. Best to leave the message and get out before anyone thought to question her.

She raised her worn elm staff and rapped several times on the door.

Softly. Best not to disturb whoever was making the erotic ruckus that could be heard even from downstairs, after all. Sounded like an awful lot of young women. Well, bards never judged.

After a moment, there was no response, and Merisi decided to disturb the erotic ruckus. She banged much harder on the door.

Still nothing. Merisi's eyes narrowed. "Bardic delivery!" she called up. Then, adding a singsong lilt, she added, "I need proof of receipt, so can someone please open this door?"

A pause. Merisi heard a faint jingling.

After a moment, the door squeaked open. A strange, unpleasant buzzing settled in the back of Merisi's head as it did so, and she jumped as two bright green eyes peered out. She couldn't see much of the owner's face, as the door was only opened to a crack. The eyes regarded her with a mixture of confusion and wariness. "You're a bard?"

"Aye." Merisi was nothing if not professional. She drew herself up tall. "I am a bardic messenger of the second class. I was sent to deliver some letters."

The door opened a bit wider, and Merisi's cheeks reddened as she realized the opener was a catgirl—and, it seemed, totally naked save for a belled collar.

The bell had a strange resonance. Merisi squinted, realizing that this was the source of her discomfort. There was musical magic on that bell.

Realizing she was staring a good distance below the dark-haired catgirl's eye level, Merisi managed to close her mouth and bow to the Fair One. She even managed to mutter a slightly garbled fey greeting she remembered from her grandmother's teachings.

The catgirl blinked. She returned the greeting, sluggishly, as if it hadn't been used for a while. Strange. Very strange. "I'll take those letters," she said slowly.

Merisi shook her head. "Sorry. I need to deliver these to one Senya Wetherdean. I have to make sure he gets them this time."

The catgirl shifted, scratching at her neck with both hands. Merisi noticed she was very careful not to disturb the bell. Her eyes darted back behind her. She squirmed a little. "I... can't..."

She seemed almost physically pained. Well, physically something, anyway. Her eyes weren't exactly shy about studying Merisi's tightly-wrapped form.

"Can you bring me Senya, then?" Merisi asked, trying to peer around the catgirl without appearing to ogle her. "That would be a wonderful service, Wise One."

The catgirl was breathing heavily, clinging to the door. "Can't," she squeaked.

"Why not?"

"Because..." The catgirl shuddered. "Master mustn't speak with strangers," she whispered, and slammed the door.

Merisi stared blankly at the wooden door for a moment.

Well.

This was all kinds of fucked up.

What was she supposed to do? Yuuma would have her hide if she got back and nothing was turned in. The Bardic Orders were never this badly delayed. But things clearly weren't normal here. Merisi readied a spell of mental protection, just in case.

That collar had been binding magic. Merisi wished she'd listened more to her grandmother's stories when she'd had the chance. Was this just a misunderstanding? Merisi couldn't imagine it was.

But it wasn't her business. Her job was to deliver these messages. As the creed went: One must never kill the messenger—but a messenger who gets distracted is not a messenger.

She had two choices: She could try to break inside, potentially fight her way past a catgirl—and Merisi was bad at keeping her magics up in melee, so if that bell was made to bind others, she was in trouble—and hope that Senya was in here. Or she could scout around and look for more information.

Merisi was a bard, and bards weren't heroes. They were snoops. So she turned and started sneaking off into the ranch.

~~~~

Bards tended to have either very good hearing or very bad hearing, depending on how reliant they were upon sonorous magic. The Postmaster was nearly deaf, as he wielded a type of magic largely revolving around very loud pots and pans.

Merisi had good hearing, however, and she trusted her ears. So when she heard noises coming from the curious bog, she danced a quick spell of foot protection (a surprisingly pivotal bardic spell, actually) and made her way into the slog.

Lush bushes grew all around. Merisi was pretty sure they were some kind of berry bush, but most of them were covered in mud and filth, and the berries were almost all gone. Perhaps the bog had flooded recently. Was the bog flood-prone?

Merisi bit her lip. She wasn't exactly an expert on flood patterns. Should've gone to the Standing Stones, like Dad wanted...

As she drew nearer, she developed a slightly clearer picture of what she was hearing. There was a large wooden platform up ahead, and atop it sat a humanoid figure—a woman, possibly, judging by those curves. The young woman was absently humming.

Merisi couldn't make the woman out very well. She was blurry from distance, and the whole area was, after all, very dark. The sun had set. Stars were rising overhead, but cloud cover made it difficult. All she could see was a voluptuous silheouette.

Merisi hesitated, examining the figure.

I should turn back.

The thought rose unbidden, but inescapable, and the second it emerged, she agreed. She didn't know who this was—or where this was, for that matter. Things here weren't right. She could wait by the door until morning, or better yet, look for a stealthier way inside. She could even wait outside the gates, since this whole place gave her the creeps. But running towards strange humming women in swamps was not the basis of any kind of healthy lifestyle. Her mindless adventuring days were well behind her.

The young bard took a step back. As she did so, the figure turned to face her.

And that was when Merisi realized that this woman was most definitely not human.

"Oh! Hello!" The green slime girl giggled, oozing to her feet. She walked towards Merisi with an almost cartoonish sway, due to the way her hips seemed to slosh back and forth as she moved, coming to the nearer side of the platform. A bright smile crossed her lips, and she extended a slippery hand. "Wanna hand, cutie?"

Merisi bit her lip, then waded forward, snapping her fingers in a spell of warding around her own hand as she reached up. If she was spotted, she might as well go for it. The element of surprise was clearly a thing of the past, regardless.

She felt a brief tingling as the slimy hand wrapped around her own a little bit too freely, slicking down to the wrist, but the spell held and expanded a little to accommodate. She allowed the most curious dryad to hoist her up onto dry land.

"Thank you," she mumbled, pulling her hand away. She executed a low bow and recited the greeting her grandmother had taught her.

"Aw!" The slime girl beamed at her, head tilting to the side as though she found Merisi adorable. "Nobody's given little old Sleek that greeting in such a long time!" She performed a jiggly curtsy—despite being painfully naked—and returned the greeting.

"Your name's Sleek?" Merisi edged around the slime dryad, trying to ensure that she wasn't between the fey and the muddy abyss below. "Mine is Merisi. Second-Class Bard of the Bardic Orders Postal Service."

"Ooh! Mine's Sleek!" Sleek gave a stupid grin, following Merisi as Merisi sat down on one of the steps. The platform's steps rose in a conical, pyramid-like shape, affording plenty of places to sit in relative dryness. "I'm a slime dryad!" She put a finger to her fulsome lips, as if thinking hard, then went on, "And I work for the, uh, Ambrosia Ranch! As a cranberry picker!"

Merisi blinked. "You work for the Ranch?"

"Yes, silly!" Sleek sat down next to Merisi. "We all do!"

Merisi bit her lip. Sleek's bouncing body was... distracting, but it was important to stay on-task here. "So I'm looking for a guy," she said slowly. "Senya Wetherdean."

Sleek bit her own lip and said nothing, looking puzzled.

"I need to deliver some letters to him," Merisi went on, trying in vain to gauge the simpleminded slime's reaction. "It's... important. I'm told he lives here."

"Hm. I dunno! Maybe that's the stockman?" Sleek pouted. "I don't remember knowing anyone called Senya. Um... Ooh! I know! We can wait here." She clasped Merisis's hand and beamed brightly. "Bobbin'll come by sometime in the morning! We can ask her then!"

"Will this Bobbin know?" Merisi asked, her eye lingering on the hand. The grip felt weak—and the protective magic shielded her from any toxins—but she couldn't help a bit of wariness. How strong could that grip become? Could she be flung into the bog?

She'd never heard of a slime dryad successfully mind controlling anybody whose body was free, but she had definitely heard some stories about physical restraints reinforcing mental controls until the victim broke down. Sometimes literally, in the case of the carnivorous varieties.

Merisi was pretty sure this one wasn't carnivorous, judging by the way the slime had felt when it had grazed her wrist. She could never be sure, though. So she kept the magics up, for now, even though it was a bit of a distraction for her tired mind.

"Ooh, yeah!" Sleek beamed. "Bobbin is such a smartypants! She'll know for sure!"

"Great. That's, um, great." Merisi frowned as Sleek's hand started to gently massage hers. Little shluk and shleek sounds came from the contact. It felt... nice. But she couldn't help but be wary. "Would you mind?" she asked, gesturing to her hand.

"Ooh! Not at all!" Sleek giggled. But rather than stop massaging her hand, she absorbed Merisi's hand all the way up to the wrist, continuing the gentle strokes and kneading. Merisi winced, and her eyelids fluttered slightly as the little squishing sounds got louder.

Merisi hesitated. It was dangerous to be rude to fey. And she didn't want to hurt Sleek's feelings. Sleek was very pretty, and very jiggly, and it was important to treat all fey with respect. On the other hand...

A slight sigh escaped her, silencing her worries. Oh, that feels so good.

She wondered what it would feel like to kiss one of those hands.

Sleek was clearly encouraged by this response, because she took Merisi's other hand and continued the effort there. Merisi swallowed, but didn't say anything for now—but she concentrated on the warding spell, just in case.

"Is it okay that I'm doing this?" Sleek asked sweetly, leaning in and kissing Merisi on the cheek.

Merisi was rendered momentarily speechless by the surge of tickly sucking sensations that passed over her cheek ever-so-briefly.

"Um..." She shook herself from her stupor. "Maybe... maybe not." She grimaced as Sleek's face fell. "Not that it doesn't feel good! You're really... really cute and kind and..." Oh, gods, she was babbling. She needed sleep. Badly. "But I don't need... I mean, my hands are f-fine."

Sleek blinked. Then she giggled. "I'm cute? Aw, sweetie!" She pulled her hands back, releasing Merisi. Merisi contained a slight whine of disappointment—it really had felt wonderful. "You're just the darlingest thing!" She batted her eyelashes. "Almost makes me feel kinda bad about this."

Merisi blinked. "Bad ab—"

And then, with the sounds and sensations of the hand massage no longer distracting her, she heard it: A soft glorping and sloshing from behind her.

Coming towards her.

Fast.

Merisi dropped to a roll and tumbled out of the way as another green slime dove towards her. The slime girl let out a startled, "Whoops!". Unable to stop in time, she went tumbling over the edge. There was a splash.

Merisi's heart was pounding. Trap. Trap.

She was getting to her feet when a pair of soft, gelatinous arms wrapped around her torso. Instinct took over, and she shoved her elbow backwards into the side of her assailant.

Too late, she remembered that human instinct was, as a rule, the number-one thing to ignore when facing fey.

Her arm sank up to the elbow.

The soft, sensual strokings resumed immediately, filling Merisi's nervous system with squishy, slimy pleasure. Shluck shlick squish shmack shleek... But even they weren't enough to fully cut through her alarm when Sleek sang, "And down we go!"

The slime girl spun into Merisi's vision, giggled, and seized Merisi in the wettest kiss Merisi had ever been lost to.

And Merisi's ward spell short-circuited.

The sensations of the kiss were extraordinary. Sweet and supple and tingly and firm, all at the same time. Merisi struggled frantically, but her struggles only got her whole front body immersed in the slime girl. And the more skin got immersed, the more unbearably wonderful the slick stroking felt.

Soon, Merisi's entire front torso was captured. The slime was sliding over her breasts, her nipples tingling in ecstasy. Merisi whimpered and moaned into the kiss.

As she continued to thrash in vain, Sleek pulled out of the kiss and beamed. "I just wanted to have you all to myself for a sec'," she said silkily, and Merisi felt slick hands caressing her ass, sliding between her legs, slowly pulling down Merisi's wrappings. Merisi found her struggles becoming weaker and weaker, felt the slime girl's tiny little insignificant mental controls sinking deeper and deeper. "You're such a good kisser."

Her slick fingers slid over Merisi's panties. Merisi couldn't help it—she cried out in a happy, wordless moan. That felt so good so good so good sogoodsogoodsogoooood...

And then, with a giggle, the slime girl took the two of them tumbling down into the mud.

~~~~

Heaven was made of slime, goo, and contorting bodies, as far as Merisi was concerned.

She moaned out loud, an idiotic smile on her heart-shaped face, as Sleek's slick, slippery hands continued to probe and slide around her pussy. It was like simultaneously having a hundred mouths sucking and a thousand tongues licking right on her clit. The slime girl she was kissing, a pink creature of surpassing energy, giggled and clutched her tighter, forcing more of their wonderful flavor into her happily receiving mouth.

Meanwhile, a third slime girl—the one that had tried to tackle her earlier—now simply hugged her bare breasts from behind, allowing the sucking, kissing sensation of the slime to work its magic, and hungrily licked her neck. "You're so tasty," the slime girl cooed in her ear, for what had to have been the tenth time.

Merisi came in response.

She had been cumming all night. She was beyond struggling, beyond begging for more, beyond begging for it to end out of sheer pleasure torture. She just lay there, squirming and moaning, lost in her own personal heaven. A happy little plaything.

Light was slowly returning to her. She lay in the mud, immersed in her slimy lovers—a good thing, as they kept her clean. The sun was rising.

"Ooh. Oh, my. Oh, my gosh. Like, wow." Merisi was only halfway conscious of the high-pitched voice. Her eyes opened a fraction, and through the green distortion of her kisser, she saw a gorgeous blonde with an impossible wasp waist, clad in a lacy white nightgown.

A Thriae, she thought, cumming with a squeal.

"Look who we found, Sylvia," moaned Sleek.

"I know!" Sylvia cooed, reaching down through one of the slime girls to caress Merisi's breast. Her touch was more deliberate than those of the groping slime girls. More possessive. Merisi came from those dominant fingers, and a mewling moan escaped her. "Gosh, like, we haven't had a human intruder so cute in, like, forever!"

Merisi had the strange vague sense that she should be listening to this. But she was too busy cumming to register what she was hearing. The words settled on her like film on the water. She beamed vacantly up at the hot blonde, babbling blissful nonsense through the kisses.

"She says she's a messenger," Sleek said. "Has a messenger for someone called Senya!" She sounded sad. "But I don't know a Senya! So I guess she just has to stay here with us until he turns up."

"Ooh." Sylvia's voice got quieter. "Well, gosh. That's... that's special."

"It is?" Sleek had to raise her voice to be heard over Merisi's screams as Merisi started to build to another climax. "Who's Senya?"

"Our Master, you bimbo!"

"Oh!"

They spoke a bit more, and then Merisi felt a firm hand—a solid hand—grasp her wrist. The slime girls finished off their kisses and strokes with a flurry of activity, as if trying to wrest as many additional orgasms out of her as possible within the time allotted them. Merisi's brain and body were putty in their talons.

But the slime girls did fall free, giggling and cooing their goodbyes. Merisi moaned unhappily, missing the warm, slick touches. But then she was staring into

the most beautiful golden eyes she'd ever seen. Her moan trained off into a curious sort of coo as she blinked heavy-lidded eyes at the spellbinding fey.

"Hello!" Sylvia cooed.

"H-hi," Merisi said, biting her lip. Her head was so fuzzy, so dizzy and horny and pleasure-drunk...

"I understand you have a little message for our Master?" Sylvia asked, reaching down and gently stroking Merisi's pussy. Merisi keened and wriggled in Sylvia's tight embrace.

"Uh..." Merisi was panting. Her mind was half-recovering from the slime girls' incessant orgasms, but she knew she was teetering from these new teasing touches. "I... m-message..."

"Aw." Sylvia kissed her on the cheek, giggling. "Soooo much orgasm fatigue! You ran out of normal pleasure hours ago, huh?

Merisi blinked. Everything seemed warm and hazy. But Sylvia. She could see beautiful Sylvia very clearly. But... she frowned, squirming a little against the stroking. Something about this was off.

"That's right," Sylvia purred, continuing to slowly stroke. "All your orgasms came straight from them. Even a sweet girl like you runs out eventually. Your pleasure is just, like, totally pixillated, huh?"

"Uh..." Merisi blinked slower. "P... Pickle..."

Sylia cut her off with a giggle and a kiss right on the lips.

Sweetness filled Merisi's mouth. Without thinking, Merisi moaned and thrust her tongue in. Honey. She needed that honey. She needed it!

Sylvia pulled off, wagging a finger. "Naughty!"

Merisi's head was spinning with mind control whiplash. She was pixillated. Her orgasms... they'd been fey-made. She was so, so vulnerable right now, and this honeyed temptress had her fingers right between Merisi's legs.

"Need to..." Merisi tried to manage the magic to ward herself, but she was too lust-drunk. Pixillated. She blinked blearily, but no matter how many times she blinked, there were Sylvia's beautiful golden eyes. She shook herself. Had to focus. "M-message..."

"Of course!" Sylvia purred. Her fingers gently hooked into Merisi's slick pussy. "I'll take you to a place where you can wait for Senya to arrive, okay?"

"Okay," Merisi mumbled, and she allowed Sylvia to lead her out by her dripping cunt.

"C'mon, sweetie," Sylvia sang, leading her from the bog and towards a distant hill. "I'll get you some nice, hot tea to get your mind off this."

~~~~

The sprint to the Ambrosia Ranch front gates was one of the longest of Senya's life, and not just because he felt a bit sick from trying to run after drinking so much holstaur milk.

The scene at the gates was a disaster. A bloody disaster, and one Senya had to avert his eyes from. He caught a brief glance of bodies, of blood, of twisted, cursed silver blades and crow-masked individuals who had been cut in two. Senya had never seen a true battle site before. He felt like he needed to throw up.

"Master!" He looked up. Bobbin, perfectly unscathed and seemingly untouched by the carnage around her, was rushing over. The hob looked worried. "Are you alright?"

Senya stared blankly at her. "Am—am I—"

"Shit, Boss!" He turned and saw Jerrod hurrying to them from the direction of the hazelnut trees. The stockman's left arm was heavily bandaged, and he carried a longbow in his right. "You weren't in the farmhouse? Bobbin and I figured you'd just gone back upstairs!"

Senya swayed. Bobbin lunge forward and grabbed his shoulder, stabilizing him. "I... I went to the holstaur. And milked her. And left."

Bobbin's eyes narrowed. "You what? This is no time for joking, Master."

Senya bit his lip. "There's a bucket of milk by the barn to prove it. Look, I don't—can't—what the hell happened here?" He couldn't keep the panic and upset out of his voice. "Seven is dead! Who the hell has this much cursed silver?"

Bobbin seemed taken aback. She answered very matter-of-factly. "The crows do."

"How?"

Bobbin grimaced. "We shouldn't be discussing this out here. Let's go back to the—"

"Bobbin!" called a familiar voice. Senya turned.

And there was Kitten. Or... Valina. Or something in between. The catgirl wore a shabby brown robe, a rare departure from her constant nudity, and carried a vast machete-like blade.

She was covered in blood. Her eyes were red—not in a creepy magic way, in a 'just crying' way. Senya stared at the catgirl in confused shock.

Valina was holding one of the crows by long black hair, her eyes narrowed. She held the blade to another's throat. "Two are alive!" she said curtly. "This one is unconscious."

"Hm." Bobbin furrowed her brow. "Interesting."

Senya was still staring at Valina. His lips formed words automatically, with almost no conscious thought. "Bobbin. Seven wanted me to tell you... she said something like, 'don't wait for Market Day.' He hesitated. "No, wait. She said, 'Market Day can't wait.'"

Bobbin glanced at him, blinking rapidly, then gave a grudging nod. "Yeah, I suppose so. Damn." She bit her lip. "It's not good. We really needed the fleece."

"W-why?" Senya waved a hand frantically at the battle site. "Why are you talking about fleece and—and Market Day? Why is—what are—I can't read this!"

He knew he was babbling. His eyes kept flying between Valina, Jerrod and Bobbin. He was still trying desperately not to look at the dead. Senya was about an inch from an anxiety attack at this rate, and it was all he could do to flail and babble and try not to bolt from the scene, just run, just run, run to the farmhouse, run to your bedroom and...

And what?

Bobbin didn't say anything. Instead, she walked over and looked over the two captive crows, biting her lip. "Both fey?" she asked Valina. Valina shrugged.

"Bobbin!" Senya rushed after her, barely keeping his voice steady. "Bobbin, can you just for fuck's sake—"

Bobbin whirled on him. She stared with a look of total, inscrutable consideration. Then she knelt by the crow who had the blade at their throat. "Market Day is a condition of the will," she said. "The will is... haphazard. An imperfect replacement."

"Haphazard? A replacement for what?"

"Your great-uncle worked hard at it," Bobbin continued, her tone as dry as an accountant's diary. "All the previous Masters did. Senya, in order for the wards to hold, you have to be confirmed as Master, to be recognized by the will. That means you have to see to the duties of Warden, which are—which involve overseeing the harvest and sale."

"What..." Senya chose his words carefully, trying to keep his tone level this time. "What does any of this have to do with running a prison?"

Bobbin paused, regarding him coolly. Senya realized he was standing above the slight fey, and practically screaming at her. His heart was pounding. He was surrounded by corpses. He suddenly realized he could only see a few scarecrows still alive in the area.

"The prisoners need to be occupied," Bobbin said, sighing. "And... they need a Warden. They have always needed a Warden. That's not something I made up. But a Warden's duty is more... blurry. It can be cheated. It can get inbred. The magic will not hold up if the Ambrosia Ranch stops operating at efficiency."

Senya stared down at her. She met his gaze.

"Do you understand?" she asked.

"No," Senya said, glaring at her. "And as Master, I order you to... to give me a straighter answer!"

The words surprised even him. He hadn't planned to give orders to Bobbin, he realized. Not ever. It didn't feel right. Not just morally, but... in some other way, he felt like him giving orders to her was backwards. And yet here he was.

Bobbin stared at him. Her jaw tightened.

Senya realized she was trying to resist the order.

For a moment, he wondered what would happen if she did resist it. What would she do then? What would he do?

But the answer came out of her like a line of fishhooks. "The magic of the Ambrosia Ranch," she said haltingly, "is based around its purpose."

"Which is to imprison evil fey."

"Mm." She swallowed. Bobbin was looking slightly nauseous. If Senya had been in a better state of mind, he might have laughed—she was more comfortable kneeling around dead bodies than she was giving him a full answer.

Then again, it wasn't really that funny.

"Master," she said grudgingly, "I... I was not around when the Ranch... was founded. I have served your family for generations, though. Over those generations, the wills have shifted. New provisions get added on. The will is the key, Master. Ownership of the Ranch transfers via the bloodline, which subscribes to the will."

"I know that," Senya said, but he was feeling uncertain.

"The wills have shifted over the generations," Bobbin repeated, more firmly, as she grabbed the conscious, struggling crow. With flicks of her wrist, she bound the figure in glowing golden runic bands. "That makes it hard. Your great-uncle, as you know, left a fairly strict will. He wanted a legacy. Funny, since the ass never thought to father a child." She scowled. "That will outlines the duties of the Warden as..."

And then she almost gagged. She clutched her throat, grimacing. Senya half- wondered if she was in actual pain. Certainly, her voice came out choked, almost wheezing. "... as the master. As every will has since I arrived here, this will labels the Warden as master, not plaything. But there are conditions to being master."

Senya blinked. Swallowed. "Why didn't he make the will simple?" he asked. "Why make it so risky if he knew finding an heir would be hard?"

Bobbin sighed. "Because," she said reluctantly, "he was worried about the new heir running the Ranch poorly. Giving it up. To. Other people. Letting. Letting livestock escape." She rolled her eyes, rubbing her throat. "He didn't want the new heir to be too passive. He wanted to see the place flourish." The hob looked at Senya with a long-suffering expression. "Does that satisfy your curiosity, Master?"

Senya bit his lip. "One mor—two more questions."

Bobbin gave a sarcastic half-bow, still kneeling before the captive.

"First, why are you always holding this back?" Senya tried not to sound angry. He didn't have much anger left in him, anyways. "Why do you always give me... half-answers to things? I thought you were here to help me. Are you even on my side?"

Bobbin considered this, then shrugged. "I held it back because I wanted to take this slow," she said, and she didn't struggle here. "I don't want to push you, Master, because I worry that things will blow up otherwise. I wanted to resolve the will question, finish Market Day, make sure you're officially Master before we look to explaining all the intricacies. I don't want to scare you away. Master, I honestly, truly want to protect you. I like you." Bobbin splayed her hands out in an almost pleading manner. "The last thing I want is to be your enemy. We can do good work here. Together."

A long silence hung between them.

"Okay." He would think about this later. "Second question."

"At your service."

"Why are we pushing Market Day early if it's so important to do it right?"

Bobbin scowled. "Doing it halfway is better than taking too long to do it at all. We've stalled too long hoping for you to... well, sort it all out, and the trouble is that the fleece sprites will stall us further if we wait for them. My goal is to have you active in as much of the harvests as possible—and you're doing surprisingly well at that so far—sell as much as we can, and then harvest the fleece and sell that laTER. I think, if we do all that, the will should take. As long as no livestock takes control of you completely." She winked, though it was clear it wasn't a joke.

Senya chewed his upper lip. "Okay. Okay. I understand." He frowned, looking around. "Are we... are we going to be okay with so many scarecrows dead? What happens if prisoners die?"

"Oh, the scarecrows aren't prisoners." Bobbin wrested off the mask, and whatever she saw made her give a little growl of disappointment. She hit the struggling captive over the head, and they went limp. Senya winced at the contact. "They're aberrations."

"Aberrations?" Senya watched nervously as Bobbin moved over to the other prisoner. Was this just execution?

Bobbin wrested off this mask, and whatever she saw made her give a little, "Yes!" She glanced back at Senya, grinning. "We won't have enough scarecrows to fend off another attack, but we'll rebuild their numbers soon enough. Once you're Master, we'll have perfect control over the prisoners again, and the crows will abandon their little tantrum."

Senya swallowed. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but... "Rebuild their numbers?"

Bobbin gathered the cloaked figure in her muscular arms and lifted her up. It was a her, Senya realized. The hood fell off as Bobbin lifted, revealing shocking red hair and large, fuzzy, tufted orange ears.

It was a kitsune.

"Jerrod," Bobbin called, "head to the woodshed. Don't let the girls there trouble you. Bring back a couple posts.

"Bobbin." Senya's blood ran cold. He stared after her. Mute, Valina stood beside him. "Bobbin, what is this?"

Bobbin glanced back at him, lips pursed. "Monstrous," she said, with a shrug. "Maybe a little, anyways. But we do what we must. It's better than execution." She turned away. "By a certain measure."

~~~~

When Senya had been young, he'd had an unpleasant incident climbing up onto a house roof.

It had been a dare from Anya. Anya was gifted at phasing, even then, and she had easily found her way to the top. She'd called out to him, and he, always the follower, had tried to climb after his sister. A stone had given way.

Anya had felt terrible, of course. They'd stolen bandages and oranges from the house she'd climbed and camped atop the roof for the night.

In the brief second before Senya had completely lost his grip on the handhold, but after the stone had given way.

That was how he felt right now.

Valina shuffled away, shedding her robes. Just like that, she was naked. She waved the sword in two spirals, and it vanished, as if through a trick of the light. She sighed. "Excuse Kitten, Master," she said, her voice hoarse. "Kitten must bathe."

Senya blinked. He took one hesitant step after Valina, then walked up to her. "Valina?"

Valina/Kitten said nothing.

"Are you okay?"

Valina considered the question. Like Bobbin, she had a look like she was pulling a fishhook from her throat when she answered, "Suishu will miss her sister."

Then the lost expression vanished, replaced by a smile and a giggle. "Excuse Kitten, Master," she said, leaning in and kissing Senya on the cheek. "Kitten is messy! Kitten must get clean!"

She turned and skipped back to the farmhouse.

Senya blinked.

"Huh."

~~~~

As he did every night, Senya lay locked in wonderful, tormented pleasure, held pinned to his bed as three puppy sprites mercilessly licked his cock like it was a never-ending lollipop. The redhead and blonde licked his face, giggling at his feeble struggles.

They were feeble because he didn't really want to escape. In the same way Senya knew, deep down, how badly he wanted to be dominated, he wanted this. His struggles were reflexive. His body didn't know any better. Luckily, his puppies were there to steer him straight.

He came yet again onto the face of a brunette, who beamed and cooed in delight as the others briefly licked her face clean. Then they returned to his cock.

As he lay there, lost in happiness, Senya drifted in and out of strange dreams.

Senya lay, whimpering, before the holstaur. She stood over him, smiling smugly. He knew he had to run, but he was immersed up to his neck in warm, tingly butter, and he couldn't even hope to move fast enough to escape. Mommy picked him up in her arms and pushed his head towards her teat. He moaned and struggled, but she silenced his moans with a kiss, then with a nipple. And he at last suckled docilely, pliant and obedient, as he was meant to be.

He lay beneath the puppies. The redhead and blonde had taken to licking his sides and under his arms, giggling at the ticklish way he struggled. He hadn't used to be so ticklish, but now it seemed like everything they did to him was magnified. Like his whole body was becoming attuned to their every slight touch. Like he was meant to be with them.

The hen harpies giggled as their delicate feathers tickled him all over. Senya couldn't recall being captivated by them, but now he lay on the floor of their soft coop as one-by-one, the babbling bimbos mounted him and bounced him to orgasm, their big eyes bright and eager as their prattle reduced his brain to happy mush.

Now the puppies were taking turns suckling delicately, sweetly at the very tip of his cock, and he was cumming over and over again from the concentrated attentions. The blonde and redhead silenced his screams and whimpers and pleas for mercy with endless licks and kisses on his neck and face, drowning him in their love.

He lay atop a great clover tree. Strange women smiled down at him, their eyes compact and golden, their little antennae tickling his bare chest. He was covered in pollen, just like them, and a strange foreign need consumed him.

They were toying with him, teasing him, denying his needy cock until his brain melted into happy honeyed mush. And yet he could only whimper and moan as they used his cock, his tongue, his hands like he was a living sex toy. Her kisses left sticky honey marks all over his buzzing skin.

They praised him. They degraded him. They soaked him in nectar until he couldn't breath. Then they smothered him with their pussies, and he still couldn't breath.

"You miss us," cooed the Queen Beembo, giggling as she bounced atop his stiff cock. "You need us!"

"Need us," echoed the others.

"So silly to leave," Bezzy whispered, wrapping her arms around him. The other beembos fell away, and he found himself staring up into her gleaming gold eyes. "Silly. Silly."

"Silly," he whimpered, wishing he could beg forgiveness. But she silenced him with a sweet kiss that left his head spinning.

"Soon," she cooed, kissing over his neck. He craned his neck, exposing herself to more kisses, whining. More. He needed more.

"Please," he gasped, "please, I want to..."

"Wake up, my silly boy," she purred, delicately caressing a single finger in spirals around his cock head. With her one finger, Senya was reduced to a mindlessly bucking mess. "Wake up. It's time to join us."

"Mm..."

"Wake up, Master."

"Mm..."

"Wake up!"

Senya's eyes shot open.

The first thing he noticed was that his bed seemed strangely cold. He realized this was for two reasons:

First, the lust sprites had inexplicably vanished from his room.

Second, Valina sat in the open windowsill. The nubile catgirl was naked, but her expression left no doubt—this was the free-willed catgirl who had tried to get him brainwashed a week ago.

Senya squirmed, dimly realizing he, too, was naked. He already missed his puppies. His brain was still sluggish, but he reached hesitantly for the nightstand, a vague memory taking him of a whistle he'd left there...

Valina held up a silver whistle, raising an eyebrow. "You want this, huh?"

He stared at her, bewildered. His exposed cock twitched.

She smirked. "Master can have it back soon enough. I needed to get those little demons out of the way."

"Where.. where are they?" he whispered. And what had he been dreaming about? Something strange. He so rarely remembered his dreams these days.

Valina giggled. "I may have left the door to the cupid's room open."

Senya blinked. "We... we have a cupid?"

The catgirl sighed, taking him by the hand. Senya noticed her fingers were slick, and wondered just how long she'd been sitting there. The thought made his heart flutter. "The door across from Master's room. The guest room."

"Oh." Senya followed, docile as a kitten, as Valina hoisted him up into her arms and approached the window. "Okay. Where are we going?"

Cradling him in her arms, the catgirl smiled. Her breasts were right in Senya's face, and he had the strangest sense of deja vu. "Master will understand soon enough. Master must be a good boy for Kitten, now."