Senya's dreams were a whirlwind of teasing honeybee-bottomed bimbos, rough-tongued catgirls, honey-drenched Thriae, and adoring puppy sprites. It was the latter that he eventually woke up within, immersed in their arms. Their tongues eased him, settled his troubled thoughts, kept him in a happy state of constant bliss. He came again and again to their steadfast lapping, lost in lusty, stupid love.

Jerrod was the one to wake him, and he smiled down at Senya as he dragged his limp, exhausted body from the sprites' arms. "C'mon, boss. That's enough fun for the night."

"Mm..." Senya clung to the brawny stockman, still lost in lusty trance as Jerrod carried him down the stairs.

It was only around the arrival at the dining table that his wakefulness started to drift back to him. Jerrod set him down, and Senya straightened slightly, his eyes still half-closed. He smelled eggs, bacon, sausage, and maple syrup. Unconsciously, he licked his lips.

Senya had asked Bobbin about their stores of meat once. The meat wasn't from the Ranch (thank heavens), but from feral pigs in the area. He was pretty sure it was a similar story with the eggs. He wasn't sure about the syrup.

The smell of the tea helped to wake him up a little more, out of surprise as much as anything else. He blinked at the steaming mug. "No milk today?" he asked. "And... no fruit?"

"Nah." Jerrod grinned. "That's for Ranch work, that stuff is."

"Oh." Senya blinked at the waffles, then reached for his fork. "So is today... not Ranch work?"

A soft, slender hand placed it in his palm. He looked up and found himself staring deep into the emerald eyes of Valina.

The catgirl was sitting on the floor next to his chair, smiling up at him with bright excitement. Her belled collar was silent, and she was as naked and docile as ever. She giggled, taking her hand away and brushing back her hair. She held the stare a bit too long, though.

"Nah, nah," Jerrod said, chuckling as he came back with a plate laden with meat. "Today, Master? It's Market Day."

~~~~

The packing proceeded quite swiftly, really. Master seemed confused. Of course he was. He wanted to know where Bobbin was, but the explanation only seemed to partially satisfy him.

The hob was, of course, busy dealing with the fleece sprites, but Valina was sure there was another reason Bobbin didn't feel like talking to Master today. The hob could be very sensitive, and yesterday's little spat had shaken her. And reminded her how hard it was to keep even the most well-intentioned of secrets from her dear little Master.

Luckily, Valina was there to keep his mind off of such exhausting worries. She accompanied him as he and Jerrod loaded the cart, and licked him to babbling bliss whenever he got too talkative or slowed things down. Jerrod gave her a few pets on the head for that, and she beamed up at him innocently. She had been a very good girl the last couple days—as far as the stockman knew.

She waved goodbye as the cart drove off. The catgirl's eyes glinted.

Senya would be one of the kindest Masters she'd ever had, probably. He would spoil her rotten. The adorable boytoy loved to make her cum, and praised her more generously than any other Master she'd known. She could be a very happy pet for him. The Kitten half of her was very tempted by that vision of placidity.

But Valina had other plans.

"Master has enjoyed his sweet things." The catgirl giggled, leaning back against the rough wall. "I do not think even the second son—the one with the whorelip, you remember?—indulged so much. And so dangerously." She gave a husky little growl.

"Milk and honey. Prisoner fruit. Alraune nectar. Oh... and has dear little Bobbi really been leaving him so long with the puppies?"

"Oh, yes." Valina grinned. "She has to. It's the only way to keep him out of trouble."

Mommy gave a slow, leisurely smile, leaning back in her chair and gently tugging at her nipples. The holstaur let out a happy sigh. "Oh... I had wondered how that darling boy managed to resist me, even with fairy help. The puppies. Should we worry about them, do you think?"

Valina let out a short laugh. "That's why it is best to get him outside the house. It was very silly of Valina to seek him inside, so close to their hearing."

Mommy licked her lips. "He would have been finished all the same in my arms. Or the honeyed handmaidens', even."

"The fairies interfered." Valina gritted her sharp teeth. "Little flitterers have meddlesome minds. Do they even know how hard it was to slip that much pure stuff into his glass without the bell giving me away? Poor Kitten could barely stop herself from drinking it down on the spot, too. All for nothing."

"Yes, I do think Tricin could do more to manage her little flock." Mommy sighed, stretching slightly. "But... well, that's why we're using these new measures. The fairies can't do anything to help him then." She pouted, one eyebrow arching. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes," Valina admitted. "Scarlet's plan was best. He'll be ours soon enough. And then..." Her heart fluttered slightly, and she felt a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Then we can really make some changes around here."

"Wonderful. I'm so glad you're happy, Kitten." Mommy gave a gentle smirk.

"Oh, yes." Valina rubbed her neck, feeling that hated collar, hearing its hateful jingle. "Soon, nobody can tell me what to do."

"Of course not," Mommy cooed.

"We'll run things. I'll be free. In control."

"You'll be able to do whatever you want, Kitten," Mommy purred, pinching a nipple until a bit of milk came dripping out.

Valina licked her lips.

"And..." The holstaur's voice was sultry and sweet as she spread her arms wide, letting her tremendous breasts bounce back down, still oozing slightly. "... does my little Kitten want some milk?" she asked sweetly, eyelashes fluttering.

Kitten blinked. Her eyelashes fluttered in time with Mommy's. Her head swam, and it was like a switch had come over her mind. She only had a moment to feel confused before that confusion melted into warm, wet obedience.

She fell to her knees and crawled up to Mommy, staring up at her with wide eyes. "Mommy?" she whimpered. "Kitten is... is thirsty!"

"Are you really?" Mommy asked, her pale eyebrows arching with ill-concealed delight.

"Yes!" Kitten mewled, rubbing between her legs with one hand. "Kitten is... is..." She let out a mew, unable to finish the sentence.

The holstaur beamed, and she reached down to help the mewing catgirl into her lap. "Then come to Mommy," she cooed in the catgirl's ear, as the catgirl's trembling lips found a nipple and began a slow, blissful suckling.

~~~~

The lust sprites didn't mind being caged, as Senya understood it. These sorts of arrangements were common—though usually a bit more on the give-and-take side, the practice of "catching" lust sprites for use in dens was frequently employed even in rural areas. It was a fair arrangement: The lust sprites got lots of mortals to delight in, and the mortal "owners" got to sell use of the sprite pits to anyone with an itch to scratch. The lust sprites usually didn't mind, as long as they weren't kept away from new playthings for too long.

And as it turned out, when they were, they really liked to play with their captors.

The cart he and Jerrod rode in—the cart Senya had come to the Ranch in, in fact—was laden with many goods from the Ambrosia Ranch. Jars filled with Thriae honey and sealed kegs of Thriae mead. Bottles of deep red wine from Scarlet's grapefields. Buckets of fresh cranberries. Canned prisoner fruit—nothing fresh, oddly enough. Boxes of hazelnuts. A small wooden crate marked simply, "Eggs" (the quotations made him a bit uneasy). Several full jugs of holstaur milk. A basket full of fresh fruit—pears, apples and stranger fruit still, which made Senya wonder where this orchard was that he had missed. And a small glass flask of maple syrup.

All-in-all, it was a true bounty for any wealthy pleasureseeker. Holstaur milk alone was a priceless beverage, and Thriae honey was so blatantly illegal, just carrying it was literally grounds for execution in many Western Plains baronies. This was a cart full of fey aphrodisiacs worth a small fortune.

And then there were the five lust sprites locked in the back of the cat. The lust sprites that had been loudly making love since before the cart had left the Ranch.

They weren't puppy sprites. The theme for this pack, Senya was pretty sure, was 'oily wrestlers', and they had been loudly smacking and slipping against one another for a while now. Each horned fey was quite fit and muscular, ideal for tackling their 'victims', but they still shared the typically nubile, absurdly sexual—and flexible—bodies that every lust sprite was known for.

And they had been channeling their lust auras full-force into the front seat of the cart for the last few hours. After hours of this intense, forced arousal, Senya was about ready to blow. Jerrod, though next to him, was totally unaffected. His amulet, of course.

Senya squirmed in his seat, rubbing through his pants as subtly as he could manage. "A-are you sure I can't—"

"Yup." Jerrod gave a slight chuckle, looking over at his sweating, lip-biting boss with sympathy. "I know, Master. We'll be in town soon enough. But you can't fuck 'em."

"B-but..." Senya's cock was practically crying out for mercy. This sort of denial was unbearable, especially after weeks of being practically spoiled on pleasure back at the Ranch. It was even worse that he had to sit next to Jerrod, who was only wearing a simple brown vest. Senya wanted to jump into the stockman's muscular arms almost as he wanted to jump into the back of the cart.

"The lust sprites need to be primed. That means they can't have been with a mortal for the last few hours. Makes 'em worth more, trust me." Jerrod shrugged. "We handled a lot of lust sprites and jelly maids back in the days."

Senya, in his ragged state, took a moment to register that Jerrod was talking about his days as a pirate. He swallowed, shifting in his seat, feeling his cock straining desperately against his trousers. "Can we... can we please stop the—"

"Sure." Jerrod tugged on the reins, bringing the cart to a slow halt. "Go make with the touches. Just don't go far."

For the fourth time that day, Senya hopped off the cart and shuffled into the bushes. He took Jerrod's advice, remembering how dangerous these bamboo forests could be, but he at least tried to put some visual distance between the two of them.

He was still close enough to feel the lust sprites' blazing aura, though, and he was panting with desire as he stroked himself. After so many weeks in the Ranch's care, it almost felt alien to have to rely on his own hands. The jolts of pleasure that coursed through him were nothing compared to lying with the fey.

And especially to submitting to them.

He bit his lip as thoughts of Mommy's breasts and Kitten's teasing tongue brought him to a whimpering orgasm. Pleasure sparkled through him like fine droplets of rain during a drought, fleeting, almost mocking. He stood there, continuing to stroke, trying to contain his faint whines.

He heard a distant branch snap. His eyes shot open.

It took him a moment to recognize the source. He squinted. Off in the distance, he could just make out a dark-skinned man in a pale cloak stopping next to a particularly dense clump of bamboo and undo his trousers.

The man relieved himself there of a much baser need, whistling softly as he gazed up into the branches. He seemed completely oblivious to Senya's presence.

The man was unarmed, but Senya took no chances. He took a deep breath to steady himself, redid his trousers, and returned to the furnace of lust to brave a few more hours of torment.

~~~~

Market Day was a surprisingly busy affair in the small village. Senya was astounded at just how many merchants had arrived—many all the way from the Lacratian continent! A pair of dopterines walked by, their antennae twitching rapidly as they chattered in their native tongue. A goblin maid lounged behind a food cart, shooting passersby—especially men—coy smiles and lewd winks.

Every now and then, a young man would stop at her stall and start talking to her. After testing some free samples, he would be invited to the back of her cart to make a purchase. Each time, he would accept.

Three men had vanished into the goblin maid's cart so far today, and Senya had been here for scarcely an hour.

Upon arrival, it had quickly become apparent that they were the primary attraction of this bustling market. Wealthy men and women—most of whom, Senya couldn't help but notice, humans and elves from Lacra—clustered around the stall like fruit flies to purchase tiny vials of honey, little jars of prisoner fruit jam. It was almost too much for Senya to keep up with, though with the lust sprites secured in a distant tent, at least he didn't have their power driving his attention span into mush.

Their customers passed over in exchange not money, but magic. Senya politely accepted all sorts of payment Jerrod told him was sufficient—scrolls and alchemical potions, enchanted gemstones, magic beans. A few offered twisted items of silver. Hypnotic tools for fey. That made Senya feel a little queasy, but they were enough to buy two whole "Eggs" (whatever those were).

A tall, slender elf with piercing silver eyes actually offered a blessed silver arrow. This elicited a great deal of excitement in the stall, and Jerrod was quick to take over the haggling process. In the end, she walked away with an entire keg's worth of Thriae honey and the bottle of syrup in exchange.

Senya wasn't much of a salesperson, but as a carpenter, he knew how to haggle, and he knew enough from his sister to keep up in conversations about magic. And he knew enough to know that he had never seen this much concentrated wealth before in his life.

The lust sprites commanded some of the highest prices, and nobody even tried to purchase them until late afternoon, when many of the other stall owners were packing up. The goblin maid was gone, her men acquired for... whatever purpose she had for them.

It was just Senya and Jerrod, a few food stalls, a one-eyed skittergoblin who appeared to be selling gancanagh pipes—and the angry glares of the locals. Come to think of it, Senya wasn't sure a single townsperson had even visited the marketplace, much less tried to buy anything.

It felt a little strange.

"What breed?" Senya jumped, whirling to see a very tall, very pale man with long dark hair and a fine felt bowler. It took him a moment to recognize the ghoulish figure, and his eyes widened—it was Great-Uncle Yvun's lawyer!

The lawyer gave no indication he recognized Senya. He just rapped on the stall with his cane. "What breed?" he repeated.

"Um..." Senya's mouth was dry. "You mean the lust sprites?"

"Have you any other girls for sale?" The lawyer arched an eyebrow.

Senya stuck his tongue into his cheek. "... no?"

"Then of course I mean the lust sprites. Keep up boy." The lawyer's eyes narrowed. "What breed?"

Senya cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. The lawyer's stare made him feel like he had bugs crawling over his skin. "They're, um... very oily. And... gropey. Muscular."

"Mm." The lawyer reached into his pocket and drew out a very thin card. His fingers pressed against the sides, and before Senya's eyes, the card started to 'unfold'. It grew larger and larger from his spidery fingers' rapid efforts, drawing it further and further out until it was roughly the size of a normal sheet of paper. Senya realized he was using some sort of highly precise illusion magic. "Yes. I have orders for 'puppy' lust sprites, 'dumb blonde' lust sprites, 'succubus' lust sprites..." He looked up eyes narrowed. "They speak good Western? Like you and I?"

"I suppose so." Senya bit his lip, uncertain what the lawyer meant. "I mean, they're lust sprites, they're pretty dumb."

"Yes, yes." The man was clearly getting impatient. "But they do not speak with the accent. 'Eastern' sprites are in very high demand in Nyaska right now. The exoticism, you see. Many enjoy a 'stupid Easterner', you see? Very high demand." He flicked a hand, a quill appearing with it, and he made a quick jot. "But if they don't speak with the accent, it scarcely matters. That breed is more commonly found by the borders, anyway. Hm." He gnawed on the quill, then made a note. "Demand for 'slippery' lust sprites isn't terribly strong, but there is a buyer who'll accept those if you haven't got any 'Eastern schoolgirl' sprites. Which you haven't."

Senya blanched. "W-what? I beg your pardon?"

The lawyer looked up, and seemed to misinterpret Senya's shock as confusion. He waved the quill. "You see, they have constructed a sprite pit with a tentacle theme, and the 'schoolgirl' is the most desired object for that display. But a slippery lust sprite can have a similar attitude, with appropriate reconditioning. Their clients will settle for either. Do you understand, Mr. Wetherdean?"

"Y-yes?" Senya felt a curdling in his gut, but he tried not to show it. "So you're... buying for sprite dens."

The lawyer's lip quirked upwards. "Your great-uncle provided a very reliable stock, young man. We trust that the selection will be larger next winter."

"It was a slow season," Jerrod said, butting into the conversation. "The conditioning process to keep the sprites from, y'know, breaking their hosts' minds got slowed down by the old Master's death, so we only had five ready for market."

"Naturally." The lawyer gave a brisk nod. "Well, I will take the five. They're in there?" He gestured to the sealed tent.

"That's right."

"Excellent." The lawyer smiled, and with a flash of his fingers, a small slip of paper fell onto the counter. "That map signals the locations of several nearby fey. Ah, troublemakers, of course. There is a lavender dryad in the hills of particular value, you see." His smile was ugly. Cold and thin like a knife. He bowed, rapped the counter once more with his cane, and walked over to the tent.

Senya heard him clap, and the tent suddenly surged up into the air, as if lifted by an invisible giant. It took on a teardrop shape—the sprites inside squealed in confusion—and followed as the lawyer walked off.

Senya grimaced. Even that man's walk was disturbing. His knees rose in sharp and deliberate strides, like a heron hunting for frogs.

Jerrod was whistling, poring over the map with a big grin. "Aw, this is nice. Lavender dryad, sure, sure, but wow. There's a pearl sprite couple by the coast! That's good value. And good fucking. I've heard stories..."

"Does this..." Senya took a deep breath, and a step away from the stall. "Does anything about this feel... wrong to you?"

Jerrod paused in his examinations, his smile dropping slightly. "Eh? What about? They're lust sprites, boss. Surely even you've visited a sprite den or two."

"I mean... sure. Of course!" Senya gave an uncertain nod. "But that's different. I know lust sprites don't mind the dens. But I mean..." He gestured to the supplies. "We're just selling what the prisoners make. And we're selling the prisoners! That... that doesn't seem like a very prisony thing to do."

Jerrod turned to face Senya, tucking the map away. "Eh, why not? We're providing a service. Why shouldn't we profit a little from it on the side? Helps keep the Ranch afloat."

A cool wind blew westward, and Jerrod looked up, clearly noting the darkening sky. Senya bit his lip.

He wanted to disagree, but he just couldn't put his finger on what about it all felt so wrong. He rubbed his eyes, wishing his puppies were here to ease his mind.

Everything about the Ranch felt bad to him. Everything except, ironically, letting the fey enslave him, which felt so good he wished right now that he could just walk up to Brigitte and dive right into her flower. But he couldn't quite nail down what about it upset him. It just seemed... it seemed...

"It just seems cruel," he burst out. "We're just... we're basically enslaving them! And I mean, yes, they did the same thing to others, but does that make it right? And what we do to make scarecrows..."

"Hey, I don't like it either." Jerrod put up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "But Bobbin's gotta keep the scarecrows coming, or we're all in trouble. Way of the world."

"But that doesn't make it right!"

"Did I say it did? Hey, don't strawman me." Jerrod cracked a grin. "Get it?"

"Jerrod!" Senya grabbed the stockman by the shoulders. "This is serious!"

Jerrod laid a hand on Senya's shoulder and nudged him, gently, away. "Boss, you're not yourself."

"No, I'm—"

"You've been getting your brains fucked out by half the monsters on that Ranch." Jerrod gave a sympathetic chuckle. "And you've been getting denied by these sprites all day. They're in your head, master."

Senya bit his lip. He rubbed his eyes, feeling his cock throbbing.

"You've just gotta power through." Jerrod rubbed Senya's hair with a rough hand. "Market Day went really well. When we get back, your inheritance will be all-but finalized. That Will will see you're who you say you are, and you'll inherit, and then you can regain some control over everything."

"No, I..." Senya felt dizzy. He sat back down, rubbing his eyes. He was so tired.

Maybe Jerrod was right. Maybe he really wasn't himself right now. He sure didn't feel like he was functioning at full capacity.

"Easy does it, Boss." Jerrod helped Senya back to his feet. "I'll let you sleep in the back of the cart on the way home."

"But..." Senya let out a weak, confused sigh. "Okay."

"You can make sense of it later, Master." Jerrod patted him on the back as he set him down in the straw cot—still smelling strongly of the slightly sweet oil and juices of the lust sprites who had inhabited it for the last eight hours. Senya felt his cock hardening, and his breaths deepening, as the familiar scents reminded him of those last eight hours. The scents. The sounds. The lust. "In the meantime, try and take your mind off things. Knock if you need me."

"Mm..." Senya lay back. His mind was already sinking deep. Deep, deep, deep down into dreams.

He was so, so tired.

~~~~

Valina stood at the edge of the Ranch, just a few feet off from the silver fence, and waited amid the bamboo that grew wild on the Ranch's outskirts. The catgirl stared into the trees, watching something only a catgirl who had magically enhanced her vision to inhuman levels could comprehend. Tiny glints and slivers of light flashed off the leaves, conveying a finely-crafted code.

The arrangement with the Crows was delicate. Very delicate. The radical natives and the Ranch's wicked prisoners had the same enemies, but they sought highly distinct outcomes in the conflict to come.

Valina had high hopes that it could all be spun to her advantage. As long as she played her cards right, the more stubborn elements she was working with would end up quite happy to go along with her aims. It just took subtlety. Cleverness. And a glassblower always had plenty of both.

If she spun it just right, those stubborn elements would be too stupid with bliss by the end of it all to make a fuss. That thought made her practically giddy.

"That's right," she said to thin air. "Back later this evening." A pause. A flash. "I know. We won't need to kill him. We know how to handle his kind."

A glimmer. The catgirl gave a feral grin. "Don't worry about him. He'll be out of the picture. We'll be ready for you when you get here."

A sparkle. She frowned. "Not sooner? I thought... fine. We can't delay, though. ... Because it's all in motion already, that's why! This is our last chance. If we lose this time, we lose the window, and Senya becomes the next Master. The Will can be cheated, but only as long as he's a weak-willed little stud for anyone with pretty eyes and a sweet voice. After that..." She let the implication hang there, mostly because she didn't feel like spelling out just how vulnerable most of the fey would be to their true Master's orders.

There was a pause. Then, a question.

The catgirl giggled. "Oh, we plan to. Oh, we can't wait to have fun with our sweet little 'warden'. Believe me."

"Kitten?" Valina jumped. Turning, she saw Bobbin making her way through the thicket. She bit her lip, her heart pounding. The hob looked cross. "Kitten, what do you think you're doing this far outside the house? Did you see something out there?"

"U-um... Bobbi!" Valina tried not to show her guilt as she turned, putting a finger to her lips. "Kitten was just... just looking for..."

Bobbin frowned suspiciously at Valina. "Looking for something? Are there Crows out there?"

"There..." Valina sucked on her finger nervously. "There are, um..."

Bobbin seemed to note the sucking, and clearly misconstrued it. Her head tilted. A smug smile formed. "Oh. Oh. You were looking for your Master, weren't you?"

"Y-yes." Kitten—Valina bowed her head, trying not to show her relief at the excuse. Luckily, just the mention of Master, and the repeated use of her pet name, was making her face burn a convincing bright red. "I... Kitten misses her Master. Where is Master, Bobbi?"

"Oh, poor thing." Bobbin raised one eyebrow. "You've really taken to him, haven't you?" She grinned, advancing. "Perhaps you'd like me to ease some of that burden, Kitten?"

"Nn." Kitten swallowed, feeling the pet name slowly taking effect. Her pussy was clenching, her chest heaving. She found herself taking a step closer to the sly hob. "So... horny, Bobbi," she whined, and it wasn't really an act at all.

"Call me Master," Bobbin purred. She lunged out and grabbed Kitten close, clutching her against her torso.

"M-Master!" Kitten squeaked, staring at Bobbi with wide, needy eyes. "Oh, Master, please!"

"Do you need something, Kitten?" Bobbin asked, her finger sliding ticklingly down Kitten's belly and circling around her pussy. "Does my pet pussy need something?"

"Oh, Master..." Valina's breath was wispy as a breath. Her mind was crumbling under this assault, and the lie was swiftly becoming her only reality. "I... your Kitten needs you!"

"My pussy needs me," Bobbi cooed, kissing Valina over her neck until Valina was on the verge of mewing. "It's mine, isn't it? It's your Master's?" Her finger brushed lightly over Valina's clit.

"Yes," Kitten whined, trembling in Bobbin's grasp like a blade of grass in a hurricane. Her heart fluttered with excitement. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Such a good, sweet kitty." Bobbin stopped kissing Valina and rose to stare into the catgirl's eyes, tracing one rough finger over the catgirl's burning cheek. "But that's not quite what I wanted to hear. What was that, Kitten?"

Kitten shook, clutching Bobbin desperately. Her lips moved independent of her melting mind as those fingers continued to tease her pussy—Bobbi's pussy, Master's pussy. "Mew?"

Bobbin grinned. "There she is!"

And her mind turning obedient and pliant once more, Kitten began to mew in helpless lust.

And Bobbin rewarded her as a good Master should.

~~~~

Senya awoke from dreams of oil and honey to a pair of bright orange eyes staring down at him.

"Good evening, Master!" Bobbin chirped. The hob scratched her soft sideburns, giving him an easy-going smile. "I do hate to wake you when you're all cute and curled up, but it's time for dinner."

Senya blinked, stretching instinctively. He was curled up in a straw cot in the back of the cart. His hair was mussed, and his whole body felt just a little bit sticky.

He shifted his legs slightly, and felt a tackiness between his legs. He groaned. Oh. That was why.

He got to his feet, grimacing at the stickiness in his trousers. Bobbin helped him out of the cart, helpfully undressing him as he went. He felt a little uncomfortable with that, but then she was holding a bright sunset-orange prisoner fruit in front of him, and he passively accepted it and bit into his sweet, juicy flesh. Gods, but he was hungry.

They arrived at the farmhouse door, Bobbin's arm draped over his shoulder. Senya still felt a bit groggy as they made their way inside.

Jerrod was still unpacking in the dining room, but he looked up and grinned as he saw them enter. "Ah, there he is! Poor boss had a rough time of it, with the sprites' teasing an' all."

"I'm sure he did," Bobbin said, smirking. She kissed Senya on the cheek, giggling, and led him over to his seat. She was certainly very affectionate tonight, Senya noted—a far cry from yesterday. "You'll be wanting a full meal, then, Master. Gotta regain all that energy!"

Still feeling quite docile, Senya picked up his fork and started shoveling buttery mashed potatoes into his mouth. He set the prisoner fruit pit aside without a thought.

Bobbin kept talking to him as he ate—just idle small talk, embellished with a few suggestive winks and affectionate compliments—as she took her seat across from him. Jerrod leaned back in his chair to the side, tearing into a fresh turkey.

Slowly, he felt his head clear a little bit. Enough to notice a conspicuous absence.

"Where's Valina?" he asked.

"Hm?" Bobbin's eyebrows arched. "Oh, the cat. She's, um, occupied." She tilted her head to the side, unable to hide a small coy smile from darting across her lips. "If you want her, I can go get her, Master. I'm sure she'd be quite relieved to see you made it back okay."

"N-no. That's fine." Senya wasn't sure he wanted to be exposed to Kitten right now. Not after everything that had happened last night.

And as he thought that, his mind finally settled, and he speared a sprig of some sort of tasty green flower as he spoke. "I, um... Bobbin, actually, we need to talk."

Bobbin blinked. The joviality in the air seemed to chill slightly. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, and eyed Senya with a look of glum trepidation. "I know, Master."

Her response surprised Senya a little. He was so used to Bobbin dodging questions and evading tough topics, it took him a moment to fully register what she'd said. "You do?"

"Jerrod told me you've been... having doubts." Bobbin bit her lip, taking a sip from her glass. It looked odd to Senya, and it took him a moment to realize why: He had never seen her drink or eat in front of him before. "Honestly, Master, I would just as well leave them until after the Will's resolution. It's much safer then."

"I know." Senya shifted uneasily, taking a bite of the chicken to steady himself. The chicken was surprisingly salty; Bobbin usually balanced ingredients better than that. "But... I mean, I feel like we need to discuss it sooner." He took a deep breath. "This is all just... it's so messed up, Bobbin."

"Is it?" Bobbin took another long sip of her drink. "We house criminals. Monsters, like that predatory nymph I told you about. Does it really matter what's done with them after?"

"I... I think it does." Senya bit his lip, taking another bite of the oversalted chicken. "They're still people, Bobbin. I mean, sure, fine, lust sprites don't care what we do, but... the cat? The fairies? The way we treat the prisoners..." He felt his focus hardening on that. "You call them 'livestock'. Like they're just farm animals. We can't just treat them like cattle!"

"They'd treat you like cattle."

Senya's fist clenched around the fork. He glared up at the cool-mannered hob, feeling rare anger filling him. "Well, then, they—they should—maybe they should rethink their definitions, because people aren't cattle, Bobbin! Not even really bad people! And we aren't—we aren't like them!"

He rubbed his eyes, feeling wetness there. He hadn't realized until just now just how heavily this had been weighing on him. Just how confused he had been. He was almost in tears. But finally, it was out there, and whatever came next, at least he could say... "I'm not like them," he said, louder. "I'm not a—not a—"

He broke off, worried he was going to choke up. His mouth was dry, but he took another bite of the chicken anyways. Chewing gave him an excuse not to talk, to re-gather himself.

Bobbin seemed to be weighing his words. She was... listening, which was unusual.

"I can see you're getting very emotional about this," she said, taking a sparing sip. She gestured with her goblet. "You're a good person, Master. It's why I like you. I'm just not sure you're being totally rational here."

She gazed clearly at him, and in that moment, Senya felt more naked than ever before. He dropped his gaze to his own glass. Swallowing the last of the chicken, he raised it to his lips, but hesitated. "I—Bobbin, I'm not just having a fit. I've thought about this a lot!"

Okay, his throat was really starting to hurt. He tipped the glass and drank deeply, closing his eyes, hoping Bobbin would give him a reprieve to gather himself, to restore his confidence.

"I'm sure you have," Bobbin said, sounding sympathetic. "But Master, you just have a heart too big for your head. You're in such a state right now."

"Nn—no," Senya protested, lowering the glass. He frowned at Bobbin. "This is about—" He swallowed, trying desperately to keep his voice level. "About right and wrong, Bobbi!"

The way she was talking to him... it made him angry. But it also made him unsteady. Self-conscious about his outburst. He was sure he'd thought it through, but the way Bobbin was looking at him... He hated how it made him doubt his own judgment.

Bobbi shook her head, giving a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Master, but... are you sure? With your mind so compromised?"

"I'm not—I'm not—" Senya blinked rapidly. "I'm not c-compromised, Bobbi." Damn it! Now was not the time to be stammering like a fool!

"You do still seem groggy," Jerrod piped up, lowering his glass. "And... I mean, Boss, is it any kind of secret that you fancy the cat something fierce?"

Senya turned to Jerrod. The world seemed to blur slightly with the rapid motion, and Senya, momentarily queasy, took another gulp of milk to buy himself some time. His face was burning, and his tongue was leaden. "That's not... I don't, um... feel that way about Valina. About Kitten."

Bobbin and Jerrod exchanged uncertain looks.

Senya bit his lip.

Do I? Senya felt his cheeks glowing brighter still. I mean... she's good at making me feel good, but... I can't really have feelings for her, can I? For all his previous worries about ethical issues regarding him and Bobbi, they surely paled to any sort of thought of romance between him and a prisoner. At least he and Bobbin were more-or-less equals—neither of them really controlled the other.

Had he really let himself grow attached to the catgirl who had tried on several occasions to turn his mind into pudding?

It didn't feel right, but he was so flustered, he didn't know how to respond. And Bobbin was already moving on without him. "We've seen the way you look to her," the hob said, sighing. "It's cute, Master. And I know Kitten has her... charms. But I worry she's growing on you a bit too much. You're beginning to see things her way."

"That's what fey do," Jerrod said, setting his plate down. "They get in your head. Make you doubt yourself. Make you take their view until you forget who you are."

"Well..." Senya turned back to Bobbin. Again, his vision blurred slightly. He was feeling just a little bit dizzy, actually. Was he tired? "I mean, she's... I just... I try to care." He was talking like a fool, he knew. His mind felt almost slowed down right now. Groggy, just like Jerrod had said.

"I know you do," Bobbin crooned, getting up from her chair. "And I know how hard it can be, Master. But your mind clearly isn't in the place to think rationally about her."

"N-no, it's not just that. I'm not..."

He trailed off, feeling awfully flustered—even more flustered than he'd been around Scarlet. Was he? Did he? What was he even saying? Bobbin was moving too quickly, speaking too quickly...

"Finish your milk, Master," the hob said softly. He slowly turned and saw her standing over him, giving a fond smile as a hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed.

A pang of understanding filled his heart as he looked back at the milk. "I... I, um..."

"You just aren't thinking clearly," Bobbin cooed, sinking down until she practically melted into his lap. She cupped his chin, smiling indulgently. "I missed you, Master."

"Um." Senya was breathing heavily. Bobbin smelled musky from her long day's work on the farm. Intoxicating, almost. Her lithe, muscular build—and pert ass—in his naked lap were very uncomfortable. Very... bothering. He tried to remember what he'd been worried about. "I... drank..."

"You need to relax," the hob said, planting a sweet little kiss on his lips. She smiled brightly, then, a second later, followed up with a softer, deeper kiss. "Let me love you," she breathed.

Senya felt his heart, mind and soul sinking back into that comfortable stupor. He was horny. So, so horny. And Bobbin was so, so, horny. Wasn't that simple?

"I..." He stared into her bright topaz eyes, biting his lip. "I c-can't..."

"Shh." She silenced him with more little kisses, gently wriggling her body in his lap, making his cock swiftly rise. Her fingers wrapped around it, and she planted one last kiss on his cheek and beamed. "Be a good Master and let your fey pleasure you, Senya."

"Unh... mm..." He struggled only feebly as she kissed him again and again, wearing away his resistance with sheer eagerness as she gently stroked.

He knew he needed to resist, knew she was silencing him once again, cutting the conversation short, but... Oh, fuck... oh, fuck...

Her thumb ran over his glans as precum oozed out, and he moaned. Oh, to hell with it.

He wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss. He could get answers tomorrow.

She kept kissing him, and pumping him, as he fully sank into happy lust. She sped up her strokes, giggling. "My, Master, you grow so fast. Rise so fast. Sink so fast. Don't worry about holding on to anything, Senya—I have a long night planned for my dear, dear boy."

He just moaned and clutched at her tighter. She let out a soft, happy sigh. "Oh, such a good boy..."

She kissed him hungrily, tongue surging into his mouth, just as she rose up and impaled herself upon his cock.

They cried out in unison—her in excitement, him in joyous climax. He bucked and shook like a leaf, but she was there to soothe him. Pleasure, so long denied, poured out in a slow, steady orgasm as she kept kissing him, kept bouncing in his lap.

It would get more ferocious, he knew.

She picked him up, still trapped inside her, and lifted him from the chair. He hung suspended in her arms, still thrusting desperately, still lost in pleasure.

"No puppies tonight, Master," she husked in his ear. "Your little hob needs some playtime, too."

The mention of the puppies made his brain spark slightly, and he let out a small cry of unease—only to he silenced as she poured the rest of the glass's sweet, spicy contents down his throat. He nearly choked, but she rubbed his back and helped him swallow, cooing sweet nothings in his ear all the while.

"Not to worry, dear," she purred, giving his ass a little squeeze as she carried him off to her bedroom. "They won't go lonely tonight."