Outside the gates, a group of the native warriors known as the Crows are marching towards the Ranch, led by a shapeshifting cat fey named Komori (not to be confused with Kemuri, a hookah-smoking gancanagh also working with the Crows). Their purpose is ambiguous, but they are no friends to the Masters, and have been collaborating with Valina and Mommy to some extent.

With no further ado, let's get right to it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"That's enough of this." With a heady sigh, Kemuri the gancanagh blew a great puff of sweet smoke into the air.

The smoke drifted up into a colorful cloud of around ten fairies, and as it suffused them, their insectile eyes slowly grew dazed and confused. Their flashing lights became slower and dimmer, and Kemuri noticed the mortal Crows recovering slightly from the hypnosis the fairies had put them under.

"Good sweets," Kemuri cooed—not unkindly, in his opinion—as the pretty little things slowly wafted down. He appreciated the male fairies' bodies aesthetically, of course, but as a gancanagh, it was his nature to favor the female form, and so he ogled their nubile bodies eagerly. "Easy does it. Eeeasy does it."

Nearby, the snail-like sazae-oni giggled, petting the four fairies who had gotten stuck in her soft, sticky, massive cleavage. "Goood sweeeets," she sang, her voice as unpleasantly mosquito-like as ever—though to her victims, Kemuri knew, it would sound as melodic as a songbird's.

Meanwhile, the cat fey Komori was walking around, her tail flicking behind her, as she painstakingly awoke every mortal—and some of the fey, including a rookie catgirl and a bamboo dryad—from the fairies' spell. "We have to hurry," she remarked, as she snapped her fingers in the face of a dazed-looking older human. "If they have fairies patrolling, they must know someone's coming. Or things are completely destabilizing."

Kemuri patted the sword at his hip and nodded. Seng was already stomping towards the gate, the jami's eyes peeled for any additional winged marauders. None yet—at least so far—but Kemuri respected Seng's caution. The bigfooted lout.

"Be careful," Komori said. The bakeneko hurried after Seng. Kemuri and the others rushed to catch up as they drew near the gate, which was currently ominously open.

"Why?" Seng asked, raising an eyebrow as she examined the gate. "Can't you tell? The wards are down."

A murmur went through the human Crows, but to Komori and the fey, this was not news. "I know that," she said, drawing level with Seng next to the wall, "but we still aren't sure exactly what—"

And Komori cut off abruptly. Her head jerked, as though a fly had startled her. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped them. She blinked rapidly.

She and Seng both swayed slightly. A split-second later, Kemuri felt it, too, and he gasped as the strange force washed over him like warm, molten butter.

Behind him, he heard the catgirl whimpering. The fairies on the ground were moaning, too weak-willed from the smoke to even hope to resist this new threat.

But Kemuri did try. He felt the force pressing on his mind, and with an angry puff on his hookah, he tried. Submission was unnatural to a gancanagh. He felt that soft, gentle grip, and stubbornly thrashed against it.

He heard the fairies whispering something in a chorus he couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, it made his knees weak.

"What..." The snail girl was panting. "What iiiiis..."

The catgirl was the first to break.

"I love Mommy," he heard her whimper.

Oh. Kemuri swallowed. Oh, that sounded so... so...

"I love Mommy," echoed Komori and several of the humans, their voices weak.

Kemuri's eyes widened. He trembled, lunging towards a bamboo stalk to stay upright. "N-no..." the short, curvaceous fey gasped. It was such a petty, weak assault, like being blocked by a fence of twigs.

But he hadn't been ready. The force had slipped past his guard while he'd been unaware, and now, like a person who'd already yielded too much ground in an arm wrestle, every inch of his mind was harder and harder to defend. He felt the force washing over him, and it felt so, so good to give in...

"I love Mommy," the catgirl, dryad, Komori and the humans moaned in unison. "I love Mommy."

"S-stop," he cried, even as the hookah fell from his hands.

"I love Mommy." Now he heard Seng's voice join the chorus, dull and empty, along with the rest. He heard slick noises, and knew the catgirl had started to stroke herself—to edge herself, to make herself nice and mindless and obedient for Mommy. "I love Mommy."

Kemuri whimpered, pinching one of his nipples. His lip quivered. "I..." The force washed all around him, warm, inviting. "I... I love..." He couldn't fight. Couldn't resist. It was too easy to give in. It was too late to resist. It was time to surrender. "I... love..."

~~~~

Senya loved his Mommy.

He loved her so, so much.

He lay on the floor of the dining room, his body totally limp, totally helpless, and he loved that, too. Kitten was on her hands and knees between his legs, with his thick cock head in her mouth, the tip between her lips, daintily sucking and licking him, and he loved her and what she was doing to him, too.

He wasn't sure how long she'd been sucking him like this, her eyes shining with glee. Minutes? Hours? Days? He felt like he hadn't orgasmed in years. It was heaven. Kitten had thoughtfully given him a throw pillow to rest his head on, allowing him to stare as through entranced into her shining catlike eyes as she gently suckled his cock.

He could lie here forever. And he really, truly wanted to. With every sweet suck, every tender lick, every bat of her beautiful eyes, his mind melted just a little bit more for Kitten's will.

He wasn't sure why Mommy had decided to leave both of them here, but he had a feeling this was part of it. Mommy loved him being weak. When he'd resisted, she had wanted to purge that resistance, even if it meant losing Kitten's support in the battle to come. Mommy wasn't too smart when she was horny.

And, Senya thought proudly, neither was he.

He was just a dumb little bimbo toy for Mommy. For Kitten. For whoever wanted him.

And he knew now, deep down, the truth Sylvia had sucked out of him before: that this was not just some suggestion planted in him, or some shameful half-felt kink that these monsters had taken advantage of and twisted into something perverted.

It was what he truly, utterly wanted.

So Senya couldn't fight. He didn't want to fight. He wanted to be broken, to melt, to be a helpless, obedient plaything for his Mistresses. So he would let Mommy do whatever she wanted to him. He knew it would feel so, so good.

"Mm..." Kitten giggled, clearly seeing the look of happy defeat on his face. Her tongue lapped along his tongue like a cat drinking milk, and he gasped. He was so close. So, so close.

The trouble was, Senya found, understanding all of that didn't help him. It didn't help him break like he wanted to. In all the daydreams and forgotten scenes and, well, real seductions he had experienced on the Ranch, he had often subconsciously fantasized about being forced to accept the truth about his desires, and breaking totally, melting down completely. Bobbin or Brigitte or Tricin would explain to him what he knew, deep down inside, and he would be lost forever, a blissful little horny toy.

But it wasn't happening. He knew what he wanted. But... he wasn't mindless at all. Horny and obedient, yes, oh, gods, yes. But... he hadn't melted.

Because, Senya realized, biting his lip to contain a squeak...

Even if his fate was to be lost to some temptress or another, to lose his friends, family and hobbies to his lusty, wretched fantasy, he had unfinished business here.

"K-Kitten," he whispered. "I... I c-can't resist."

"Mm!" Kitten beamed at him and pulled off his cock to give it several affectionate kisses before resuming her gentle suckling.

"I... can't fight you. I can't resist a-a—ah!—anything you want, because... I want it too." His voice was high-pitched and frail as she ran her claws tenderly over his inner thighs, gently tickling him. "I want to be an... oh, g-gods, an empty-headed bimbo, and you can turn me into one, and... and there's nothing I c-can do about it. I want to beg you to do whatever you want to me."

His cock throbbed as he said the words. His heart raced. Oh, how he wanted it. How he craved submission. And if this was the only way he could get it, then so be it. He would be a happy slave. "Because I want it. Oh, gods, I want all of it, Kitten."

Kitten's eyes had gone slightly foggy. She stared at him eagerly, and he could tell just how utterly horny she was, just how tempted she was, in spite of her orders, to just jump him right then and there and bounce on him until they were both squealing, leaking wrecks.

"But... but you don't." Senya's voice trembled. "You don't want this, Kitten."

Kitten blinked. She gave a confused whine.

"Maybe a little bit," he admitted, shivering as her relaxed expression returned and her tongue swirled around his cock. "But you... you don't w-want this. You d-don't deserve it. Kitten, please... please listen to your slave, your pet, your horny plaything." He reached down and weakly petted her hair. "Please resist. Oh, please. Oh, please, please let your good boy c-convince you... you have to fight it, Kitten. Please. Fight it. Fight back, Valina."

~~~~

Some minutes earlier...

Outside the farmhouse, battle lines were being drawn.

Out the front door strolled Laca and Vinifera, the holstaur and her faithful wine dryad. Laca wore a mid-length frilly pink skirt and went otherwise naked, her massive, pale breasts on full display. Her silver hair was elegantly braided around her two curved bull's horns, ad her hazel eyes gleamed with promise.

Waiting in the yard outside stood the lithe Bobbin, the brawny human stockman Jerrod, five straw-blonde scarecrows and, up in the sky, fifty buzzing fairies, cleverly concealed within a low-flying cloud that fooled no one.

Bobbin stood with one hand on her hip, her shag cut brown hair gleaming in the late light. The holstaur walked forward, a wide, indulgent smile on her face.

"Hello, Bobbi," she cooed. In her hand, the calm, warm green glow of the Verdant Star flashed and glimmered between her fingers.

Bobbin smiled back coyly, wiggling her fingers a little in a mocking wave. "Hello, holstaur."

"Aw." The holstaur giggled. "Why not use my real name, Bobbi? I know you know it, Bobbi."

Bobbin visibly swallowed. That old pet name still had an effect. So did the holstaur's, which was why she was trying to avoid it.

"You're finished," she said at last. "Stop this now, before we have to spill any blood. There's no way for you to win this. You're outnumbered and outmaneuvered."

"And you, sweet baby, are outgunned." The holstaur held up the gem for emphasis, giving a coy grin. "And, um, Bobbi?"

"Yes, M—" The hob's face went bright red as she cut herself off.

The holstaur's smile widened. "Who do you love, Bobbi?"

And the gem's energies flooded outward like a dam had just burst. Green warmth, tinged with gold, washed over Bobbin, Jerrod and the scarecrows in waves of sheer power. Up above, little squeals echoed in the cloud as the fairies, too, were hit.

Jerrod groaned and staggered. The scarecrows' hands flew to their eyes, and they all started trembling.

But the bulk of the energies hit Bobbin. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. Her bottom lip was quivering. The hob tried to speak, but the waves just kept hitting her, until she could only gasp and whimper. Again and again they struck her, and each time, her stance wobbled. She was breathing heavily.

Her eyes went dull as she fell to one knee.

"I..." She swallowed. "I love..." Her eyes screwed shut in furious effort as she silenced the words. Instead, a long whine escaped the furry house fey.

"B-Bobbin," Jerrod gasped, leaning on his greatclub for support, "I c-can't... can't..."

"Poor babies," Mommy said, smiling widely. She grinned at the half-kneeling Bobbin, reaching up to squeeze one nipple until just a little bit of moisture came out. "Well Bobbi?" she cooed. "Who do you love?"

There was a long pause as the gem continued to throb.

"I..." Bobbin's voice was quiet. Kittenish, even. Soft and weak. "I... love... Mommy."

Mommy's look was positively rapturous. She advanced, beaming, and cupped the hob by the chin. She licked her lips as the hob stared up into Mommy's eyes, her own gaze dull and docile.

"Oh, my baby," she cooed, "I know you do."

"... s," said Bobbin.

Mommy tutted, casting an amused glance at Jerrod, whose eyes were screwed shut as he, too, fell to one knee. "What was that?"

"I... love... Mommy's..." Bobbi took a deep breath, then smiled brightly. "Stupid, slutty udders."

Mommy blinked.

She reared back with a very un-motherly shriek as Jerrod's cudgel came swinging directly at her head, followed in short order by Bobbin's own sharp falchion slashing toward her ankles.

"I also love how confident poor Mommy can be," Bobbin cooed, as the holstaur scrabbled back, "when she's nice and dumb and horny. Now!"

Laca whirled as she heard a shriek, and saw that behind her, Lady Vinifera was being engulfed in a swarm of sparkling fairies. The swarm was so thick, Laca couldn't tell who was winning.

She turned back, eyes wide, as Bobbin tossed aside the sword and raised her hand, glowing with magical energies. "Silly Mommy," she said sweetly, "has only just started to play with that toy of hers. It takes time, dumb hucow. A prepared victim can easily shrug it off if its user is inexperienced."

Laca shivered, eying Bobbin's hand with considerably more wariness than she had the sword. But she smiled. "Oh, well. You always had fun playing with crops and chains, but Mommy never needed toys to make her Bobbi behave, did she?"

Bobbin gritted her teeth as the scarecrows advanced alongside her. "When we're through with you, just the word 'toy' is gonna make you melt like an ice cube in a succubus's pussy."

"Oh?" The holstaur laughed. "and what about when you're through with them, darling?"

Bobbin blinked. "Eh?"

"Bobbin!" shouted one of the scarecrows "There's—YAAGH!"

Bobbin's head shot back.

The scarecrows and Jerrod whirled about to defend themselves as a band of cloaked fey and humans emerged from the hazelnut grove and charged at their ranks. The scarecrows brandished swords and kisses alike, desperately weaving to avoid the blades, smoke and assorted fey mischief of the brainwashed Crows.

Bobbin glared at Mommy, even as her heart pounded in her chest. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

Mommy smiled and shook her head, even as her hand reached back up to her breast and started to stroke. "Oh, sweetie... when we're finished playing today, neither will you!"

~~~~

"Valina," Senya whimpered, "oh, please, please, resist. Resist for your good boy. Please. Ah!" His hips bucked, but the near-orgasm was cut off before it could even start as the kitten stopped and pulled off, licking her lips. "Please!" he cried.

The catgirl had gotten careless, and so she waited for his arousal to die down a little before returning to edging her boy. As she waited, she smiled at him. "Silly Senya," Kitten cooed. "Silly, horny boy!"

"Yes." Senya shivered. "Silly, horny boy. But silly horny boy needs Mistress's help. Mistress h-has to be strong for her plaything, yes?"

It came so easily. All of the submission, all of the self-degradation. Valina shivered at every word, and so did he. They both knew how right it sounded. They both knew it was what he deserved.

But Senya knew this was more than Valina deserved to go through. More than anyone deserved. "Valina must be strong," he whimpered. "For her kittytoy. Please... please..."

Valina blinked.

After a long pause, she leaned down and gave the tip of his cock a tiny little lick; he jumped. Giggling, she gave another. And another. And another.

It only took eight licks for him to be rendered a squirming, whimpering mess.

"V-Valina!" he cried. "Oh, Valina! Oh, Mistress!"

She giggled, but did not speak. Just continued to lick. Down below, her fingers tickled his balls, and he moaned loudly.

Her tongue sped up. His gasps turned to short screams. "P-please," he managed, "oh, fuck, I—Mistress—please—strong—"

She lathered his cock with slick saliva, spiraling her tongue around his throbbing, needy cock. She stared at it lovingly, then at him with equal affection. Her licks were getting longer. Wetter. And so were his moans.

And he realized, as her lips slipped over his head once more, that she was going to make him cum.

"Oh—" He trembled, the breath leaving him as she gave him one long slurp after another. "Oh, V—Val—"

She moaned loudly as her lips slid up and down his shaft. Her head was bobbing in his lap, and all the while she stared at him in total lust, lusting for that look in his eyes. The look of utter compliance. Utter need.

He stared into her eyes, and his lip quivered. He couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Her eyes sparkled with triumph.

He started to pant. Then, as her tongue started slowly swirling around his cock, to moan.

"Valina," he managed, as she moaned again, "I—you—oh, fuck—oh, yes, I—please—yes—oh my—oh gods—"

With a giggle, the catgirl slid her lips all the way down to to the base of his shaft, deepthroating him with the hunger that only belonged to Kitten. And Kitten had him.

And Senya came. He squealed in submissive delight as pleasure flooded his system, his mind, as his cock throbbed and let burst its payload into her slurping mouth. He watched in rapturous awe as she guzzled it all down without even losing stride. He bucked and writhed, totally overwhelmed by her eager, sucking lips.

At last, the catgirl pulled back off with a satisfied sigh. She started licking and kissing his cock, cleaning him up with happy little mews and mms. Senya lay flat on the floor, his mind spinning. Spiraling. Deeper and deeper down with every lick, every kiss, every amused giggle and kittenish moan.

He loved Kitten.

Loved Kitten so, so much.

A stupid smile spread across his face, and his eyes drifted closed as sweet pleasure filled his mind. Loved her so, so, so much.

Would love her forever.

~~~~

"Senya."

His eyes fluttered, but did not open. He could tell Kitten was speaking to herself, not to him.

The catgirl's voice was soft, wistful. "Senya," she said again. "Such a... pretty name."

Senya's eyes opened.

Valina smiled down at him, then offered her hand.

Slowly, Senya's groggy, lusty, needy, obedient brain wrapped itself around this gesture, and her words.

"You..." Senya stared at her hand in wonder, noticing how it was still slick with her and his juices. He reached forward and took it, his head still numb, still awash in the afterglow. "You were just playing with me."

The catgirl giggled and hopped to her feet, tugging Senya up as well. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Senya tasted himself, and his knees went weak.

But she squeezed his hand. "Now, now," Valina whispered. "Time for play later, Senya! If we start now, we'll both be on the floor for..." Her cheeks colored slightly, and her eyes went misty a moment, before returning to focus. "I am barely up," she said, her tone a bit more urgent. "And you are not quite even that, right?"

"R-right." Senya had to resist the urge to automatically say, "Yes, Mistress." But he did resist. He blinked at Valina, still a bit confused.

"Then I hope you have a plan." The catgirl licked her lips. "Because Kitten is only barely satisfied. I can still feel her crawling around and making trouble." Her eyes darted toward the door. "Mommy and Bobbi are out there. And Kitten really, really loved Mommy and Bobbi."

Senya swallowed and nodded.

~~~~

It all happened very fast.

Mier broke the silence first, firing her arrow off before anyone else had time to blink. She grinned with satisfaction as the arrow whizzed through the air and pierced into the shorter one's—Sylvia's—ankle. Sylvia shrieked.

Barely a second later, Swish leaped past her, screaming a fox's warcry and swinging her sword in a wide arc. Lala barely had time to duck as the sword slashed right through where her neck had been.

Lata spun around Swish in an elaborate path to flank with Lala, evading a slash, and made to leap onto Swish's back—

There was a crackle in the air. The Thriae fell flat on her face.

Her feet were glued to the ground by some sort of purplish webbing, like from a spider who had only eaten blueberries. She rubbed her head, stunned.

Mier gave Anya an approving nod. She nocked another arrow and let it fly, noticing that Sylvia had fallen back to the cottage door, cradling her wound. Lightweight, she thought.

Lala cut the arrow out of the air with her index finger, which blazed with golden magic. "Like, fuck off, sweetie!" she sang, and pointed at Mier with the glowing finger.

"Bluff!" Mier barked, but too late—Swish lunged to intercept with her sword. Lala dropped the pointing hand as her other hand lunged for Suisshu's belly, and Swish's eyes widened as golden wires burst out and wrapped around her midriff. The wires yanked her back towards a nearby shrub and rapidly bound her into it, heedless of her shrieks.

Glaring, Mier loosed two more arrows at Lala—only to see them cut out of the air by Lata, up on her hands and knees, still stuck to the ground.

"Hey, fox!" Anya ran towards the kitsune, her hands spinning, gathering magical energy for a spell. "We're cool, right?"

She didn't wait for an answer before loosing her spell. The bush trembled, shook, and... turned into a small newt.

The newt landed on the ground with a squeak, looked around with alarm, and quickly scurried away under a nearby stone.

The Thriae, Anya, Mier and Swish stared after it.

"That was supposed to turn it into reeds," Anya said, looking perplexed.

"Oh, yeah," Sylvia grunted, still on the ground and struggling with her minor injury, "this place's got a really strong newt energy. They're my number-one byproduct."

"Huh. Neat."

"Yeah, I have a whole pond of them out back. They're cute. Super-duper poisonous, though."

"Oh, yeah, they would be." Without looking, Anya raised her arm toward Sylvia and fired off another mass of violet webbing. It smacked Sylvia's head against the wall and instantly glued her to it. Sylvia shrieked in indignation.

Lata struggled to her feet, but Mier advanced, training two arrows on the entangled Thriae. "Don't even," she said warningly. "You are not fast enough."

Her every instinct told her to shoot. Shoot now. But she hesitated.

Meanwhile, Lala took a step back, eying Swish's blade warily. The Thriae gave a little shrug, her breasts bouncing in her tank top as she did so, and set her hips cockily to one side. "Well, gosh," she said, pouting, "This, like, sucks."

Anya was chanting softly, weaving another spell. She seemed slightly puzzled about something, though.

Mier drew nearer, her arrows trained to Lata's head. Shoot. her mind said urgently. SHOOT! Before she...

Mier stared confusedly at the Thriae, whose diaphanous wings were beating rapidly as she sat up.

Swish glanced at Mier, blinking. "Swish," she said, her voice raising, "why aren't you—"

Mier stared at Lata, blinking slowly. There was a strange buzz in the back of her head. Her head felt... buzzy. Fuzzy. She blinked again.

"Mier!"

"Awww." Lala's voice had taken on a babying tone. "Is our cute little shapeshifter having probbums? Maybe she needs Mommy Lala to kiss those probbums better?"

"Um." Mier shook herself, noticing Swish's panicked expression. The kitsune was noticing the hum, too, now, and her hands had flown to her ears.

Mier tried to remember what she had to do as her arms dropped to her sides. She knew what to do here. The buzzing was... was doing something. Something bad.

She had to shapeshift. Had to... had to make it so she couldn't...

"Poor shifter," Lala cooed, her wings vibrating with increasing speed as the hum filled Mier's head like crackly cotton candy. "She feels so confused, doesn't she?"

Mier had to shift. Had to shift. She shook herself, head ringing. "I... I'm..." Even her own voice sounded distant beneath the loud buzzing all around her. Unimportant.

Mier swayed a little. Had to shift forms. Had to do it now. But what to? What... what was she...

"So fuzzy, Lala sang, giggling.

Mier blinked.

Working purely off instinct, she shifted her shape to match the image that had just entered her head.

Instantly, the buzzing grew ten times louder, and Mier fell to her knees with a moan. It droned in her head like a flood of roaring static. She wrapped her fuzzy claws around herself and whimpered, overwhelmed, almost drooling.

Had to serve. Had to obey. Had to be a good slut. Good slut. Good slut.

Lala sounded shocked, but her tone quickly turned to delight. "Well!" she exclaimed. "What a sweet, silly little batgirl we've caught! Ooh, we haven't played with a batgirl in centuries. This is gonna be fun."

In defiant response, Mier fell over into the fetal position and whimpered as her pussy started to flow.

~~~~

Swish clutched her hands to her ears, groaning as she watched her lover fall to the ground—now in the very same bat form they had had some fun with together just two nights ago. She bit her lip, unable to suppress a bit of guilt for putting that image into Mier's head.

But no matter. She... she could fight this. Mier couldn't. The fox staggered upright, her own fey resistance struggling desperately against the pounding fey enchantments, and turned in time to see Lala crawling over towards a swiftly crumpling Anya. She had somehow procured a little bowl, and was actively pinching her nipples to squirt mead into as she crept up on the mage.

Oh, poor Anya. Despite their adversity, Swish felt an outpouring of sympathy for the poor girl, who was biting her lip so hard it was bleeding to keep from begging as the buzzing filled her mind. Her eyes were screwed shut, and as her knees slowly buckled, Swish could tell she was totally, blissfully unaware of the encroaching danger behind her.

Swish hurried over and grabbed Anya's hand. Confused, Anya struggled, but weakly, as Swish pulled her out of the trapped Thriae's reach. "Anya," she managed, "w-we have to..."

"Oh, foxy!" cooed a honeyed voice. Swish's stomach lurched as she felt soft, smooth hands wrapping around her from behind, pushing up her shirt and caressing her belly. "Forgetting someone, are we?" Lala whispered in Swish's ear.

Swish's lips quivered as she felt the buzzing intensify, and realized it was being focused on her now. She was the last. Anya's hand slipped from Suisshu's as she fell to the ground, and Swish heard the mage pulling her robes up and frantically toying with herself. BatMier was mewling and squealing as only a bat fey could, too incapacitated even to masturbate or beg.

She smelled sweetness, and heard wet sounds, and knew that Lala was no doubt stroking herself, getting her fingers nice and wet for Swish to lick off.

Oh, that sounded so nice. Swish let out an involuntary whine. She remembered well the last time she'd been like this—staring at a gorgeous mind controlled woman as her tormentor stood behind her and teased Suisshu into submitting as well. Only this was no reckless, thoughtless Balabar, easily undone by arrogance. And there was no Larya or Alrek to save her.

Her head felt so full. So full of nonsense. Wonderful, fuzzy nonsense.

She smelled the honey, and knew it was being presented to her. She licked her lips, and her lips slowly parted against her will, permitting the fingers to slip inside...

But they didn't.

For a long moment, as Swish submitted to the incessant buzzing, nothing at all happened. She felt Lala clutching her, heard the steep breaths...

With a start that snapped her from the haze, Swish realized that Lala was being fucked. Slowly. Methodically.

And for some reason, the Thriae wasn't doing a thing about it.

Lata didn't seem to notice. She was facing away, watching Mier and giggling, clearly confident that Swish was lost for good.

Lala's gasps started to get louder. And then she was moaning.

And then she released Swish, and Swish tumbled to the ground with a muffled cry.

The kitsune staggered onto her hands and knees, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the remaining cobwebs. Why wasn't Sylvia saying anything? Why had Lala...

Swish looked up.

She swallowed. Her three fluffy tails flicked behind her with excitement.

Lala was clutched by a nubile young woman wearing a peasant's garb. The young lady had two fingers inserted into Lala's cunt, while two rested upon her forehead.

Over the tall Thriae's shoulder, Nun beamed at Swish. "You are needing help," the enchantress whispered, and winked.

Slowly, Swish nodded, grinned, and walked over to where Mier and Lata lay..

Trying not to relish the violence too much—she was, after all, past those days now—she drew back and kicked the earthbound Lata in the head.

Hard.

~~~~

Back at the farmhouse, a strange and horrid battle blazed through hearts and minds like kindling.

The scarecrows were quick, inhumanly strong, and canny, and they dodged and wove easily around the Crows in spite of their small numbers. One would feint around a target while another would spring into view, grab the target, and plant a kiss on their lips before they knew what hit them. If the target was human, they would generally drop right there, and be spared further attentions—they would be claimed more fully later, of course.

If they were fey, on the other hand, it sometimes took more than one kiss. Sometimes, the scarecrows would resort to tickling, and this worked quite well on those fey who unwisely went half-naked. A dryad collapsed in a giggling fit as her scarecrow foe ran spidery fingers beneath her arms and covered her face in kisses. A jami faced off warily against another scarecrow, who was plainly trying to get at the jami's large, sensitive feet.

Meanwhile, the Crows fought viciously. A sazae-oni girl had leaped atop Jerrod, and the stockman was struggling, moaning, as the snail girl smothered him in wet, sticky licks and kisses that popped lewdly and made him cry out. The bakeneko was dueling a pair of scarecrows in frantic combat, swinging her blades in wide arcs as she tried to get her very long tail between a scarecrow's legs to work mischief.

The gancanagh leaped and tumbled, blowing out great gusts of smoke like a dragon as the fairies not occupied with Scarlet flew after him. A few dropped from the air, but there were so, so many fairies, and he only had so much breath. Each time he stopped to take another puff of his hookah, they got a bit closer.

But Bobbin wasn't worrying about any of that. She couldn't. She had to save all of her thought for one very precise concern.

"There's a good cow," Bobbi cooed, weaving her fingers about in lewd patterns. "Good, good cow, nice and empty, so horny, so nice..."

Mommy trembled, biting her lip—likely struggling to ignore the phantom touches Bobbi was creating along her breasts. She manged a smile as the gem sparkled in her grip. "Silly little one," she cooed back. "So nice and needy for Mommy! Do you remember crawling across the floor, begging for the privilege of suckling like a good girl?"

Bobbin swallowed, her breath choked and heavy as the images flashed through her. She struggled to maintain her spell. "Hucow feels her slut udders being squeezed and played with, doesn't she?" she said, giggling. "Poor thing. She just needs someone to play with her, doesn't she?"

"Sweet, silly Bobbi is so thirsty..."

"Hucow needs to be milked," Bobbi purred, licking her lips, "and she knows how to get that, doesn't she? The little slut."

"Bobbi wants her Mommy," Mommy whispered, swaying back and forth as her breasts jiggled. Bobbin watched them, watched Mommy playing with herself. "Come into my arms, baby girl. Let Mommy take care of you."

"Hucows love being on their knees," Bobbi sang, twirling her fingers in the air and grinning as Mommy's eye followed them, "love being obedient, love having their slut udders pulled and played with."

"Bobbi's such a nice little slut for Mommy." The holstaur pinched her pinches, gasping. "Loves to be a nice slut for my tits. Mommy's needy titslave."

"Mo—Hucow's tits are smarter than Mommy is, aren't they?" Bobbi said cheerfully, running her phantom touches along Mommy's nipples, guiding Mommy's hands to be more aggressive, more directly pleasuring. "Your tits are telling you to be a good girl. Isn't that a good idea?"

"Good idea to obey my tits," Mommy said, her finger twirling in spirals around her nipple, drawing Bobbi's gaze inward. "Good idea to be a good girl for Mommy."

Bobbi's head was starting to sink. She could barely hear the battle around her, could barely even think about it. Right now, the only things that mattered in her world were her, Mommy, and Mommy's beautiful breasts. Had to fight. Had to win. "Is Mommy a good girl for her tits?" Bobbin cooed, giving Mommy's nipples a tweak. She giggled as the holstaur gasped. "Aw, she is! Her tits want her to moan."

She stuck her tongue out and licked the air, and barely contained her laughter as the holstaur trembled and shook, her face as red as the sunset. She knew the holstaur wouldn't be able to fully lactate—not until someone else licked her or kissed her or suckled her in reality. A phantom tongue wouldn't cut it.

Oh, gods, Bobbi wanted to suckle and be a good girl. She took in a deep breath, struggling to press her advantage. "Moan, Mommy," she cooed. "Your breasts are so, so smart and sexy, and they want you to be a good girl so they can be milked!"

"Milked..." The holstaur gave a slow, lazy smile, and for a moment, Bobbin thought she'd won.

Then, Mommy sank to a sitting position and held up one breast. "Dribblecow needs to be milked," she said sweetly, eyelashes fluttering. "Slutty Dribblecow needs her Master to milk her!"

Bobbi's eyes widened. Her legs quaked, her lip quivered, and for a moment, reason and control escaped her. "Oh... oh..."

She hadn't been allowed to use that pet name in years. Oh, years ago, when they had been more equal, when Bobbin had been able to domme Mommy now and again... but then Bobbi had been fixed, and she couldn't call Mommy Dribblecow anymore, but now... oh, fuck...

"Dribblecow," she whimpered, trying with all her might not to fall to her knees and crawl to the holstaur's lap, barely maintaining the spell to weakly stroke the holstaur's beautiful, milky breasts, "be a good slut..."

"Good slut for Master," Mommy whined. "Please suckle your obedient Dribblecow, Master!"

"Nnnn..." Bobbin's pussy clenched. She rubbed her arm, desperately trying to keep from lowering her pants and stroking herself. Her fingers only managed to maintain a little phantom tickle now. "Obey... obey..."

"Oh, please," Mommy cried, "please suckle Dribblecow, Master! Oh, you simply must—"

"N-naughty cows can't talk," Bobbi managed.

Mommy blinked. She bit her lip, eyes glittering in frustration.

But both she and Bobbi remembered quite well that Dribblecow stopped talking when Master told her to.

The struggle was evident in her eyes. But Bobbin's breathing regularized a little, even as she watched Mommy slowly, steadily bounce her breasts together, imagined herself sinking in, suckling those breasts...

She licked the air.

Mommy whimpered and started pinching her nipples all-the-more desperately, her facade of false-obedience breaking down into pure, honest need. "Moo," she whimpered. "Moooo!"

"That's right," Bobbi whispered. She straightened, still panting. "That's right. That's my good Dribblecow."

"MOOOO!"

Bobbin licked the air a few more times, and worked a quick spell to renew the phantom spells.

She giggled as the holstaur shook, trembled, and finally collapsed onto her side.

"Silly little hucow," Bobbi said in sweet mockery. "I guess she finally did what her tits told her to, huh, Mommy?"

She bit her lip. Damn it. I need to stop calling her that.

The holstaur's eyes cleared a little, and she finally broke out of the Dribblecow trance. She rocked back and forth in the grass and started to cry out, "Come to Mommy, c-come to Mommy, come to Mommy..."

Bobbi grinned sadistically, resisting the niggling need. She was horny, and she licked her lips at the sight of the squealing domme.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with you, Mommy," she said sweetly. "I'm gonna make you feel so good. You can just be a good, sweet, melty hucow for me. Doesn't that sound nice?'

"Ah—mm—oh, ooh, oo-obey—"

"Come along, then, Mommy." Bobbi smirked. "Stand up."

There was a pause. Bobbi reinforced the command with a little phantom tickle between Mommy's legs, and relaxed the tongues a little bit.

Shuddering, whimpering, the holstaur managed to rise to her feet. She was cupping her breasts, eyes dazed with needy pleasure as the phantom tongues continued their merciless assault—slower, but no less endless.

"Come here, sweetie," Bobbi purred, curling a finger. "Be a good slut, now."

Slow, haltingly, the holstaur put one foot in front of herself.

Then another.

Then another.

Bobbin's heart was pounding. She noticed that the stone had fallen into the dirt, and grinned. Almost done. She just had to finish this business here.

The holstaur stood before her, head bowed slightly, shivering and crying as the tongues continued along her breasts. Amused, Bobbi idly added a little persistent finger to tease at the holstaur's clit, enjoying how the fey's cries changed octaves slightly.

She reached forward, smirking, and cupped the holstaur's chin. "Look at me, hucow," she purred.

Slowly, the holstaur obeyed. Her silver hair was messy, her lip was quivering, and her eyes were glazed over with lust. She was Bobbin's. Bobbin's once more.

Bobbin... had won.

"I think," Bobbi said in mock-thoughtfulness, "we'll need to make sure you don't have so much time to be lonely next time. Isn't that right?"

"I... I..." The holstaur tried to speak, but Bobbin put a finger to her lips and smiled.

"Now, now," she cooed. "Mustn't talk when Master is talking."

"Mm." The holstaur looked at her with pathetic need. Mommy had submitted. Mommy had melted.