Monstrous Ranch

Chapter 24

by GigglingGoblin

Tags: #cw:CGL #cw:noncon #breastfeeding #cooing #cowgirl #drugged #intelligence_play #monstergirl #sheepgirl #bondage #catgirl #D/s #dom:female #dom:male #enslavement #f/f #f/m #fantasy #furry #honey #humiliation #indirect_reference_to_p_doph_lia #kinda_actual_racism_by_villains #kitten #lactation #lamia #multiple_partners #petplay #plantgirl #pov:bottom #pov:top #puppy_play #siren #sleep #slime #sub:female #sub:male #trigger
See spoiler tags : #bad_end_(ambiguous_and_not_horrible) #colonialism #prison_industrial_complex_vibes #violence

Menielle flittered along the edges of the great silver fence, singing to himself in that buzzing hum the fairies most enjoyed. His head was immersed in happy little sparkly fog right now, thanks to Mistress Tricin, and so most of his mental processes were dedicated to thinking about the rules of obedience:

A good pet listens to Mistress Tricin.

A good pet lives to be told they are a good pet.

A good pet comes when they are told, and also cums when they are told.

A good pet listens and obeys.

A good pet laughs at Mistress Tricin's jokes.

A good pet...

He paused, blinking compound red eyes rapidly. Curly blue hair bounced around his head as he stopped mid-flight and hovered for a moment, purple wings humming behind him.

Another order came to mind. If anyone approaches, send three to the farmhouse to report; the rest of you, do whatever you can to stop them.

There was a young woman approaching the gates. She was pretty—plump and pale, with shoulder-length brown hair and hazel-green eyes, dressed in a flowing green robe made out of something shimmery and expensive. Menielle's eyes sparkled as he watched her. She had the most peculiar gait—the stumbling, struggling walk of a sleepwalker.

Or someone still shaking off the aftereffects of hypnosis.

Well, they couldn't have that, could they? He grinned and pointed up into the sky, sending tiny little bolts of light arcing up to signal the other fairies that he had found someone. Then he descended into a dive to investigate further. As he drew nearer, he realized she was talking to herself.

"Oh, brother..." she was mumbling, her voice haggard and uneven, "... what have you gotten yourself into? Crows and fey and enchanters..."

"Good evening, Madam!" Menielle chirruped, coming to hover in the air behind her. Put her between you and the gate. Trap her. Stop her. He vibrated his wings rapidly. "Where are you going, then?"

"Um..." She blinked at him. He grinned wickedly and vibrated his wings faster, driving the beautiful patterns into her pretty, tired eyes. "I... l-looking for..."

"For what?" Menielle teased, giggling. The fairy started to fly up and down, swooping back and forth, just far enough to make her head bob to follow his movements. "Looking for what, pretty girl?"

"I... um..." She blinked. "I..."

"Well?" He smirked, seeing her eyes starting to glaze once more. Such pretty eyes were meant to be glazed, he was sure. That was a rule of Mistress Tricin. "C'mon, sweetie, what is it?"

The woman's mouth opened, and she let out a soft whine.

And promptly blinked out of sight, without so much as a 'pop'.

Menielle stared at thin space, his jaw dropping. His expression screwed up in a disappointed pout. "Well. That's just rude!"

But the sourness faded quickly, thanks to some fervent edging. And after confirming that she had not simply turned invisible, he flew back into the air and returned, blissfully, to his mantras.

~~~~

Senya stared into the glass chamber, swallowing, and watched the nymph squirm.

"W-what did she do?" he whispered, as Ambrosia wriggled and giggled, tears streaming down her face.

Mommy's breath was hot in his ear, and Senya detected an impossibly rare note of rage buried beneath her creamy-sweet tone. "All fey follow the Primal Codes, and for all fey, those Codes vary. Nymphs can be quite naughty with how they bend the rules. But to harm a child... no, baby, that wouldn't do at all."

A child. Senya remembered Bobbin alluding to this. He realized he'd never asked just where that nymph was being kept. Stupid. Thoughtless. He'd been a dumb, thoughtless, absentminded...

He stopped himself. It probably wasn't a good idea to scold himself right now using words that he'd been trained to submit to.

Senya swallowed. "S-so what do we do?"

Senya wasn't a cruel person, by nature. Aside from the odd stone tossed at clustering ravens—none of which had ever done more than spook the noisy birds, anyways—he'd never hurt anything he didn't have to. Really, anything at all.

And as much as the holstaur's words made his blood run cold, a part of him couldn't abide torturing any living creature for so long. Ambrosia had to have been here for centuries. That couldn't be right.

But why were he and Mommy here now, then? Were they here to... release such a woman?

"Oh, that's quite simple." Mommy have a musical little giggle. "Do you trust me, baby boy?"

The answer came without thought, meek and compliant. "Yes, Mommy."

"Good boy." And for a moment, Senya shivered, overcome with the sudden feeling of delight that coursed through him at those words whispered in his ear.

Then he felt a shove, and he was sent sprawling into the room of ivy and glass.

His fall was cushioned by the crawling vines, and just as quickly, he was up to his feet, heart pounding. He whirled around, stunned.

There was no sign of the holstaur in the hallway.

"Ooh."

Senya's heart sank. He turned back to the center of the room.

The four scarecrows had noticed him. And they were smiling.

"U-um..." Senya's mind cast about for the right words. "Hi."

The scarecrows exchanged smug looks. Three of them abandoned their shrieking charge without a word and advanced on him, their narrow hips swaying. One sauntered to his left, and without thinking he edged right, not realizing until too late that she was cutting him off from the hallway.

"I'm—you—it's a—" His tongue fumbled for a solid few seconds as the scarecrows walked towards him, dark dresses trailing after them, twirling those paintbrushes in their delicate doll-like fingers. "I'm the Master of this Ranch, still," he finally managed, "and I... command you to stand down."

He put as much energy and command as he could into his voice, staring straight into the red button eyes of the nearest blonde monster girl just as she drew level with him.

Her response was to smile... and shove him roughly up against the ivy-covered wall.

He let out a squeak, struggling desperately. But she held him there like a cat pinning a mouse, one-handed, not even struggling as the brush spun in her free hand.

"L-let me go!" he sputtered, eyes following the paintbrush nervously. He'd seen what those did to the nymph. What could they do to a mortal like him?

"Silly mortal brat," cackled another one of the three, advancing and grabbing his left arm. She took it so easily, so casually, he almost didn't notice as she pinned it against the wall, holding him so his entire side and armpit were exposed. It was like his arm just... belonged to her. Like his whole body did.

And then he realized their game, and he started to struggle even more fiercely. They only laughed, as the third plucked his other arm away from his side, rendering his upper body totally exposed. "We know no 'master'," she said with a wicked grin. "We are created by Bobbin."

The first of the three nodded, her button eyes seeming to glitter on their own as she dipped her paintbrush into that torturous silver ink and twirled it before his eyes. "And she told us what we get to do to those little snacks that come down here!" she sang.

"N-no!" he whimpered, tears of sympathy and panic springing to his eyes as he heard the nymph wail. That would be him in a moment, and his heart was pounding. He couldn't look away from the first scarecrow's brush, dipped in that shimmering ink, as it slowly descended towards his side...

"Help..."

The scarecrows paused as the little murmur rose above the nymph's squealing and Senya's panicked whimpers. They seemed to exchange looks once again, then turned.

The paintbrush slowed in its spinning, and Senya managed to steal a glance at the speaker.

The first scarecrow stood before the nymph, as before, dabbling with her paintbrush. But her mouth hung open in entranced wonder as she stared at the holstaur's big, jiggling tits in front of her. That little whimper appeared to have been her last burst of resistance, for as Senya watched, a dumb smile was starting to flicker onto her face.

Senya couldn't see—the squealing nymph blocked his view—but he could tell from the scarecrow's little gasps and jerks that the holstaur had fingers between the scarecrow's legs. Mommy glanced back at the other three and flashed a sly grin. They stared at her, plainly shocked.

One hand still hard at its sticky task, the holstaur dove down and thrust her free hand into the mass of ivy.

It was like a jolt of lightning struck the scarecrows. They ran forward with wordless shouts.

Then Senya's ears popped.

And Mommy wrested from the ivy a brilliantly gleaming emerald the size of a horse's eye.

As she knelt there, gripping the Verdant Star, Senya felt a strange sense that everything about life had just fundamentally changed. Something had shifted. The wind had turned. The sun had come out from behind the clouds. Rain had begun to fall.

Something had changed. Something big. Something intangibly ancient. Something deadly.

The holstaur straightened and held up the gem with a grin. Several streaks of gold flawed its surface, Senya noticed, almost like the roots of a plant. The Star shed its light freely now, a lovely green shade that washed over Senya in rapturous glory.

He blinked.

Swayed a little.

The gem's glow was not harsh or unnerving. It didn't flash or spin or crush his will like a mouse in a serpent's coils. It was... calming. Like a sunset. Like a warm breeze.

That said, it was difficult to feel totally calm with these scarecrows advancing on Mommy with their paintbrushes, murder in their eyes.

Mommy cast Senya a guilty smile. "Forgive me, sweet Senya. I only wanted to make absolutely certain that they were not of the Will before I did anything too... rash."

"Of course we're not," the lead scarecrow hissed. "Bobbin made us. And she told us just what to do with you." She twirled the paintbrush menacingly, openly eying Mommy's chest. For a moment, Senya wondered just what would happen if the brush touched one of Mommy's teats, and his legs quaked a little—out of concern for the holstaur, and also out of arousal at the very image.

Mommy was staring at the gem thoughtfully. She glanced at Ambrosia, who was giggle-whimpering in clear erotic agony, then back at the gem. Her eyebrow rose as she side-eyed the scarecrows. "You might not be of the Will," she said, with a slow nod, "but there is so much more to this pretty little thing than bloodline. This pretty thing doesn't dance for blood, my darlings."

Her eyes glimmered green, tinged with gold. "This star dances for sweet, golden Ambrosia, doesn't it?"

The three scarecrows froze. Senya saw them tense, and notice one scarecrow's lower lip quivering. Her hand went to her mouth, and he saw that it, too, was shaking slightly.

As one, they took slow, halting steps forward. They were groaning softly. Pained groans. But they walked.

"You will serve your Mommy," the holstaur murmured, "or you will serve no one whatsoever. Isn't that right, my dears?"

"N-no," the lead scarecrow hissed, her expression monstrous in its rage. "You... will... not..."

Senya stared, heart pounding, at the lead scarecrow. He could tell it was taking all of Mommy's attention to manage the gem right now. The scarecrows were narrowly resisting, but they were getting closer and closer, and there were three of them, and that paintbrush was getting so, so close, and why couldn't he move

And then their button eyes shattered.

A strange, horrid sound rang out, like a cross between breaking glass and grinding sandstone. And then a little sigh. And then silence.

The three scarecrows went limp and fell to the ground in a pile. Senya stared in shock at their blank, eyeless faces. They were transmuting before his eyes, their flesh turning pale and glassy, like porcelain dolls.

"Mm." Mommy giggled, running a hand over the gem in fascination. "Goodness. That was easier than a kitten, wasn't it, Senya, darling?"

Senya blinked. He looked up at the holstaur, slowly, unsurely. He already felt his heart settling, found that calm visiting him again. He nodded slightly. "Uh-huh."

The holstaur blinked, She glanced at the Verdant Star, at the one surviving scarecrow—who was still entranced by her task—and back at Senya, her head tilting to the side.

A sly smile drifted onto her angelic face.

"It looks like my sweet baby boy," she cooed mischievously, advancing on him with swaying hips and jiggling breasts, "is very taken with the Verdant Star."

Senya swallowed. He knew she was flirting with him—and knew how easily that could escalate—but he was too calm to be worried. Far too calm. He almost felt like he was back in the fleece sprites' pen again. Just the thought made his head loll a little... It would be so nice to be back there, back in a fey's warm arms, leaning into their soft breasts...

The nymph let out a desperate little shriek, startling him. He blinked at the nymph, noting the tears streaming down her face, then at the holstaur. He chewed his knuckle nervously. "Are we... are we going to free her, Mommy?"

Mommy giggled. "Oh, why would we do such a silly thing, baby?"

"Well..." Senya frowned. "I mean, she's a bad person, but... it seems like... a lot. What they were doing to her. Like... some kind of dark fairytale? And for no reason."

Mommy licked her lips. She leaned in close and took his chin in her fingers, almost like she was admiring a prized horse. She stroked his cheek. It felt so good when she touched him like that. "Baby, oh, my silly boy, of course there's a reason."

"There is?" Senya was having trouble thinking clearly. For now, he just went along with Mommy's prompts, knowing she would explain. As she spoke, his eyes settled once more on her massive, gorgeous breasts. Again, the naughty thought of the paintbrushes teased and tormented his mind, and his cock was rock-hard once more.

"The Verdant Star is just an ambient item on its own." The holstaur winked. "It emanates an aura of passivity and compliance towards fey imprisoned here, ensuring they cooperate. This aura was hijacked and rejiggered by the Masters to bestow control onto whoever bore the Star, and then onto their bloodline instead. They..." She trailed off.

Senya realized he was barely listening. He licked his lips, lost in the sight of her flushed breasts. It had been so long since he had suckled at his Mommy.

She gave a rueful, amused sigh. "It's, um... oh, how should I explain it for my baby boy?" She leaned forward and ran her finger over his cock, and Senya gasped at the tickling sensation. "When Ambrosia is being teased," she whispered, "it makes energy that lets the Master of the Ranch control the prisoners. She holds in all those nasty triggers, too, so it doesn't strain the Master's poor little willpower."

The words drifted and floated. Senya struggled to hold onto them, to comprehend. But he couldn't stop thinking about how badly he needed to lie in Mommy's arms and just relax. He licked his lips.

"So..." His tongue felt leaden. "So it lets me... control gem... when she's tickled."

The finger stroked up his shaft, and he gasped. "That's right, baby." Mommy giggled. "Only... not exactly. Because the second someone else touches the gem, that fragile little Will just... melts away." She tapped the head of his cock, and he felt a bit of precum drip out. "Just dribbles away like milk from Mommy's teat."

"Y-yes, Mommy."

"And that means the Master of the gem," Mommy whispered, and Senya felt a hand on the back of his head, "is whoever is holding the gem."

"Okay."

"And Senya?"

Senya looked up. Mommy smiled down at him, and he realized he was now cradled in her arms, his lips mere inches away from her nipple. "You're going to be Mommy's good boy forever, aren't you?"

Senya blinked.

He blinked.

He blinked.

"I..." This was wrong. He couldn't. I shouldn't. He. He couldn't. Couldn't.

"Bad girl," he managed, with the last of his will.

Mommy smirked and stroked his hair, guiding his quivering lips towards her tit. "Silly boy," she purred. "It doesn't work that way anymore."

His lips locked around her nipple. And he couldn't help it—the second he felt it pass between his lips, he began to suckle, his mind melting into docility almost immediately. Wonderful, perfect compliance. He whimpered as intense pleasure flooded his brain and what little fight remained melted into gooey honey. He was a good boy. He was Mommy's good boy.

"Although..." he heard Mommy musing, "... I wonder if we might like to give you some fun little triggers to play with." She petted his hair fondly. "Wouldn't that be—"

"Let him go, holstaur."

"Mm?" Mommy turned around, still holding Senya in her soft embrace.

Out of the corner of his eye, past the whimpering nymph, Senya saw the vent at last—cleverly concealed beneath all the crawling, invasive ivy. Valina was crawling out of it, eyes narrowed, a sword shimmering into existence in her left hand. "I said, let him go."

"Hello, Kitten. Oh..." Mommy put a finger to her lips in mock-disappointment. "Are we being a little bit of a brat tonight?"

"We are not keeping her like this," Valina hissed. The catgirl tossed her hair back, and some sand and straw shook from it. "Not even her. And you are not keeping him or that gem."

Mommy sounded amused. Senya, continuing to suckle, to fill himself with Mommy's wonderful, intoxicating milk, smiled inwardly, certain that Mommy would take care of everything. "Oh, Kitten, do you really think you can stop me?"

"You know what?" Kitten's hand shimmered, and a long, curved sword appeared in it. "I have been resisting that stupid thing for generations. And now all my triggers are gone. So yes, I may not be able to resist for long, but I am pretty damn sure I can hold out long enough to cut off your fucking ha—"

"Come to Mommy, Kitten," Mommy cooed.

There was a pause. "Wh... what?" Valina's tone was derisive, but there was an undertone of fear to it.

"Come to Mommy, Kitten," the holstaur repeated. Her voice trickled like poisoned honey, and even Senya trembled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sword fall from Kitten's hand and dissolve into smoke. She fell to her hands and knees, eyes wide. "N-no," she gasped, clutching at herself. "You..."

"Come to Mommy, Kitten."

"Mommy!" Kitten squealed. And she began to crawl.

Senya felt himself being lowered to the ground. He was soon joined by Kitten in Mommy's lap. He loved the feel of her warm body pressed against his, and he moaned in greeting as her lips locked around Mommy's other nipple and started nursing. She drank with a hunger Senya couldn't believe. He suckled faster, worried that Mommy would love Kitten more if she drank more milk than he did. Impossible, of course. Mommy loved everyone so, so much.

"Such g-good boys and girls," Mommy whispered, petting Senya's and Kitten's hair. Milk flowed into Senya's mouth, and he felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier with every gulp. "Oh, I could almost stay here forever, couldn't I, darlings?"

They whined in unison. Oh, why not? Senya was lost in the sweetness of the milk, his mind melting into pure, pliant, docile obedience. He was a good boy. He needed to suckle. That was all that mattered.

"But," Mommy purred, rising to her feet. They rose with her. After a moment, Senya and Kitten reluctantly stopped suckling and pulled back, staring up with identical puppydog expressions. "But. I'm just too generous for my own good, really."

She took each of them by the hand—Senya felt the warm glow of the Star as she took his hand, but thought nothing of it—and led them back out to the hallway, chuckling to herself. "And I just have to share my gifts with dear, adorable Bobbi, haven't I?"

"Yes, Mommy," Kitten and Senya recited.

And the holstaur gave a sinister laugh.

~~~~

Miss Scarlet smiled with grim satisfaction, looking over the three scarecrows. One sat in the fetal position in the corner, rocking back and forth, stroking herself frantically as three glimmering fey flashed and sparkled around her. One had fallen into an old wine barrel, and Miss Scarlet had taken the liberty of sealing her inside with a few dozen of the little sprites.

And one lay on the ground in two pieces, sand and straw spilled all around her.

Valina really lacked sophistication, in Miss Scarlet's polite view.

With the scarecrows dispatched, everything had started to seem a little bit more... real to Vinifera. This really was happening. Her eyes glittered. Soon she would see the sun again. She would see her grapevines again.

Idly, she wondered if they'd grown much. She certainly did see a lot more wine every year down here. There had to be at least a few dozen plants by now, surely.

"Oh, Vinifera!"

Vinifera turned, eyebrows arched, as the bricks beneath the hearth slowly "fell open" again. She waited, tapping her heeled foot against the stone floor. Really, the Wardens couldn't have designed it to work a little bit faster?

At last, Laca stepped out, smiling. Kitten and Senya were clinging to her arms like cheap courtesan sprites.

Mommy beamed at her and held up the gem. "Didn't I tell you, darling?" she cooed.

Vinifera swallowed and licked her lips. "Yes, Mommy," she said compliantly. She tried not to be too happy about this turn of events, even though a part of her was rolling on the bed squealing with glee at the thought of being forced to yield to the holstaur's affections forever. "You did tell me."

Mommy smirked and glanced around. "You've done very well," she said sweetly, even as she reached down and casually stroked along Senya's shaft. The poor little pet let out several little gasps, clinging even harder to keep from doubling over. "I think I'll have to be extra generous towards you when this is all done."

"Yes, Mommy," Vinifera whispered, noticing the little dribble of milk and realizing with envy that Senya and Kitten had already gotten to have a taste. It had only been about twenty minutes since she'd been 'convinced' to drink once more from Mommy's teat, and already she craved another session.

She'll bend you over and fuck your mind away before the moon is full, the lucid part of her brain warned her.

It's so nice to obey Mommy, said another part, softer but more expansive, like cotton in her head.

At least I'll see the sun again, said a third part she couldn't quite recognize.

The holstaur turned and, leading her three loving milkslaves, began walking up the stairs.

Vinifera followed, licking her lips, and let her mind submit for a while to the Star's calming glow.

~~~~

Senya was lost, in a very real way. Everything felt so hazy, misty, blurry. The world was thick, cloying, like dense sugarwater. It swirled. Made him feel weak, dizzy, sleepy.

Words swam together. Whenever Mommy or Miss Scarlet spoke, it was noise, beautiful, beautiful noise. He wasn't meant to understand. He was meant to obey.

All he could do was cling to Mommy's arm and be led. Mommy—beautiful, milky, loving Mommy—was the only thing that felt real. Her and Kitten—sweet, adorable Kitten, who clung to Mommy's other shoulder like a lifeline.

Vaguely, he recognized they were upstairs again. He tried to focus on Kitten, noticing how happy she looked. Her eyes were half-closed, and a little purring sound was coming from her as she padded alongside him.

He knew how she felt. It was so easy to be lost, and it felt so good, but Mommy kept them safe. Kept him safe from everything else in the world. And soon, he knew, he would get to suckle her again, and hopefully she would never make him stop. Him and Kitten. Lost forever in Mommy's breasts.

Poor Kitten. He almost giggled, noticing how dizzy she looked. Her eyelids were almost shut completely. She really was lost, wasn't she?

It was almost sad, really. She'd been so confident earlier.

Almost sad.

He bit his lip. It was kind of sad, actually. His head buzzed, but it couldn't quite allay the discomfort. Valina... Kitten... she seemed happy now, but she also seemed so confused. And she didn't seem to like being confused.

She'd feel better when she got to suckle, though. He nodded to himself, still unsure. Mommy would help her. Mommy would make all those silly thoughts dribble away, just like she had for him. No more Valina. Only Kitten.

Poor Valina.

He frowned. He was starting to feel unhappy. He was starting to think.

Luckily, he knew just who could help him stop.

"M-Mommy?" he whispered, looking up at the angelic face of his mistress. "Mommy..."

The holstaur paused in whether she was saying, glancing over at him. "Yes, darling?" the holstaur whispered, smirking.

"Why did you..." It took an impossible level of effort to muster these words. "Why did you make Kitten Kitten again? Kitten liked being Valina, didn't she?"

The holstaur raised an eyebrow. She seemed genuinely surprised.

"I didn't think he could still even talk," he dimly heard Miss Scarlet say.

"Of course he can," Mommy said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. But she also seemed slightly annoyed, which only made Senya feel worse. But then she giggled down at him. "Baby, Kitten is happy now. Aren't you, Kitten?"

They looked at the catgirl. Kitten hesitated, swaying slightly in place.

"Mommy," Senya said again, feeling more sure, "it's not right!"

There was a pause.

The holstaur gave a little sigh. "Oh, I haven't hours in the day, have I, Vinifera?" She stepped back, bringing her hands together so that Kitten and Senya clasped hands without thinking. The curvy holstaur laughed. "Kitten?"

"Mm..." Kitten swallowed.

"Senya is feeling confused," Mommy said, her tone a little mocking. "Would you like to empty him for me? I'll let you be his mistress for a bit."

"Um..." Kitten blinked between the two of them, her eyes drawn naturally to Senya's hard, twitching cock. Her lips parted slightly, but she frowned. "I don't... don't..."

"Kitten." The holstaur's voice was soft as her hand extended forward, grazing Kitten's cheek. Senya watched the catgirl melt before his eyes, the frown giving way to an expression of empty-headed exhaustion. "Be good for Mommy."

There was a pause.

Kitten sank to her knees and looked up at Senya. She looked down at his cock, then back to him.

"Senya needs me?" she whispered, a tiny smile flickering on her face.

~~~~

Laca smiled down at her two favorite pets as Senya struggled to form words, only to trail off into moans as Kitten leaned in and gave his cock a little lick, then another, then another, and then the catgirl was licking in earnest. He dropped to the floor almost immediately, and the holstaur took one self-indulgent moment to watch as the catgirl pushed him onto his back and descended, licking her lips, upon his erect member.

She felt a tentative tap on the shoulder, and sighed. "Yes, Vinifera," she said briskly. "Let us go and finish this silliness."

She spared a glance toward the kitchen. Briefly, she considered trying to claim the cupid. But doing so would mean dealing with the lust sprites, and between the two... probably not worth it. Not while Bobbi remained at large.

Laca smiled as she glanced toward a window and saw Bobbin and her followers advancing on the house. Five scarecrows accompanied her, along with that lug Jerrod (a handsome lug, though). Laca's eyebrow rose as she noticed the telltale glow from above that warned of a clumsy attempt at a fairy ambush.

The holstaur advanced on the door, wine dryad in tow. The gem pulsated in her hand, warm and smooth, and she giggled.

Poor, sweet Bobbi had no idea just how outnumbered she was about to be.

~~~~

Vespula stepped over the twitching, whimpering body of the blonde scarecrow, her lips quirking upwards in a sly smile. "That's the last of them, Lata!" she said happily.

Culata flashed her a look out of the corner of her narrowed eyes. The other Thriae stood right outside the cottage, staring out over the Ranch. She smiled. "Very good, Lala."

Lala preened and gave an airheaded little giggle. Lata was particularly dominant today, and Lala could only bring herself to obey and enjoy Lata's attentions for the moment. Privately, Lala hoped she had the chance to turn the tables before they left, but, well, time would tell.

Behind them, the scarecrows Bobbi had left to manage them had been reduced to quivering, masturbating wretches. The two wasp-waisted fey stood side by side, looking out over the sunset-lit estate, and exchanged mischievous grins.

"Looks like they're getting ready to have some fun at the cottage," Lata said.

"Gosh," Lala said, simpering, "if only someone was around to help them!"

"I know, right?" Lata shook her head ruefully. "If only someone could talk some sense into those sillyheads and convince them all to, like, stick together!"

"Hee."

"Heehehee."

Their wings started to vibrate.

It didn't matter to the Thriae who won this battle.

The triggers were broken. The hacks that Sylvia had placed on the Star had been crumbled down to their most basic foundation, and the Star could no longer compel them to do much of anything, really.

And it was time to signal the hive.

Their wings beat faster, and faster, until they were sweating with exertion. The two Thriae exchanged looks, and a low buzzing filled the air.

The pair began to release that wonderful hum they had so long missed—not the hum that turned their enemies' brains to goo, but the hum to signal that this place was ripe, it was full of delicious little perverts who would love to be shown their place, that it was time for the Hive to accept back its three exiles and conquer the Ambrosia Ranch at long last, the hum that would reach the most primal awareness of the—

"Hey, is this a bad time?"

Lala spun around with a startled hiss.

A pale, curvy young woman wearing a flowing green robe stood there, head tilted, index finger pressed against her cheek, regarding the two of them skeptically.

"Only I'm looking for some tips on how to get around this place," the woman said, her voice dry. She showed no signs of fear, which made Lala a little bit irritated—young mortal women being terrified and begging for mercy was generally regarded as being tied for the best perk to being a Thriae in exile. "Kinda hard to find my way around here. You two seemed like you might have a hunch."

Lala glanced uncertainly at Lata, who looked even more floored than Lala felt. Inwardly, Lala wondered if she could exploit that. She turned back to the woman with a smirk. "Well, gosh, honey, I—"

She gave a start. The young woman had just appeared roughly ten feet to her right, right by the cottage door. She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right. So, to be clear, I can teleport. I literally have zero patience right now for more mind games. All I want is an answer."

Lala stuck her tongue into her cheek, considering this. Maybe they could try to hypnotize her with the answer, if it was possible to make it complicated. Maybe they could start buzzing and hope to catch this hot little number off-guard. Or maybe they could just give her the answer so she'd, ha ha, buzz off.

Lala rolled her eyes. Okay, this was just annoying. Why were they wasting time on some party-crashing mage when...

... her eyes glanced back down to the woman as, behind her, the cottage door silently swung open.

And Sylvia slipped out, eyes glinting with mischief, holding a small clay pitcher.

Lata still seemed off-balance, so Lala quickly took control, squeezing her lover on the shoulder—an affectionate gesture, but also a dominant one. She cast Lata a little smirk. Oh, Lata, as soon as this is dealt with... "Well, gosh" she said slowly, concealing her amusement with an expression of vapid uncertainty, "I guess we could at least try to help, sweetie."

"Thank you." The mage sounded very sour. Poor little slut needed sweetening up, in Lala's medical opinion. Sylvia slowly slunk behind her, barely holding in her giggles, gazing ahead of her target at Lala and Lata with bright, excited eyes. "I'm looking for Senya Wetherdean."

"Senya?" Lala bit her lip, thinking hard. "Hm. Gosh..."

"If you don't know, I can leave," the mage snapped. Sylvia was almost within arm's reach.

"No, no, I think it's familiar!" Lala said, her face breaking into a wide smile. "Um, like, does he have brown hair? Pretty, pretty eyes like yours?"

The mage's exasperation vanished. "Yes! That's him!" Behind her, Sylvia covered a silent giggle, reaching her hand up over the mage's head, pitcher snaking around the mage's left. Lala could barely hold back her excitement. The "tug-and-drug" technique, where a victim's head was grabbed from behind and tugged back while honey was poured onto their face, was always delicious to watch. Sylvia's hand descended, ready to grasp the mage's forehead...

An arrow lodged in the ground at Sylvia's feet. The Thriae let out a shriek, falling backwards, the clay pitcher slipping from her hand and breaking against the cottage wall.

Lala, Lata and the mage whirled around as one.

Two figures approached from the south. One wore a monk's habit, had brilliant, spiky orange hair, and carried a long, curved sword. Three fox tails danced behind her as she scowled at the lot of them. Beside her stood a figure of unclear gender—their skin was translucent, and their arms were currently hideously morphed into some sort of sinuous longbow shape.

There was a moment of stunned silence. The mage eyed the pair with clear alarm, but seemed mostly preoccupied with the Thriae who had been right behind her. She was panicking. Lala's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Sorry," the doppelganger chirped, whipping another arrow out of their quiver and nocking it to the arm-bow. "My aim is just absolutely crummy sometimes."

"You bitch!" Sylvia spat, rising unsteadily to her feet. The mage subtle teleported a few meters back.

"Please, there's no need to swear." The doppelganger pointed the nocked arrow at Sylvia, eyes narrowing to slits. "When the arrow hits you, try to say something like 'dagnabbit'. It's really just as good as the real thing."

"I bet you've gotta say that a lot, doppelganger," Lala said, smirking. Inwardly, she was still startled, but she wasn't about to show that to future honey drones, was she?

The doppelganger blinked. They scowled. "Okay, this is about to get messy."

TO BE CONTINUED

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