To my dear sister,

I was barely able to write last night's letter, thanks to the attentions of the puppy lust sprites. They don't get tired. It's getting harder and harder to find time to write these, much less find time to get someone to send them. Still, I hope that soon they will not be needed and perhaps I can even come home. I think I am beginning to see how things on this Ranch work...

Senya stared across the room at the five young women. They could only be described as... puppy girls, with fluffy little tails, deep brown eyes, and floppy, furry ears. These were no beastfey, however—they were lust sprites, demon-infused hiveminded fey instilled with one solitary, overwhelming emotion.

And he was locked in with them.

One of them hopped off the bed and crawled towards him. She was a blonde, with long curly hair and a furry tail of the same color. The tail wagged as she stared across at his cock. "Master, are you horny?"

Senya swallowed. Her breasts hung down like large, succulent fruits. Her tongue lolled out slightly, long and slick. Her ears perked up slightly as she noticed him staring, and she let out a hopeful whine. He'd never seen lust sprites like these before.

"Puppy is horny," whimpered another, crawling up. She leaned her head against Senya's leg and nuzzled him. "Puppy is so, so horny."

"Could Master fuck his puppies?" cooed a redhead, presenting her ass to him from her place on the bed. Another puppy sprite, looking curious, gave her a few tentative licks, and she squealed from surprise.

"I, um..." Senya gulped. "I need to write a letter." He turned and shuffled over to the desk. As he sat down, he again registered that he was naked. When would this prisoner fruit wear off so he'd stop forgetting that simple detail?

He heard sad whines and moans behind him. Struggling to ignore them, he pulled up a piece of paper and dipped the inkpen. He started to write.

"Please? Please please please?" He felt a tongue lick over his foot, tickling his sole, and he gave a jerk. One of the lust sprites had crawled under the desk. She beamed up at him, big brown eyes wide with need, and licked again. "Your puppies haven't been fucked in so long. We need it, Master."

Senya realized he'd written your as you're. He grimaced and corrected it, struggling to ignore the repeated licking of his feet. He couldn't let on that it was having an effect, or they'd all start doing it. Clearly, these lust sprites had some sort of loophole—normally, such creatures needed permission even to just put up the lust field, much less actually touch him.

Then he felt a second tongue running over his leg. He stiffened and struggled to keep his legs straight, despite the hardening of his cock. He was writing as fast as he could, now; errors be damned. He could only pray they didn't notice his erection.

"Please, Master?" gasped a third lust sprite, and he felt her tongue lapping at his unused hand. He forced himself not to jerk the arm out of reach. He could not let them know how horny it was making him. "Please fuck your puppies? Haven't we been good, good puppies?"

"Am I being a good puppy, Master?" Senya knew it was the first one, the redhead, who'd started licking his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her bat her eyelashes at him.

Senya bit his lip. He'd just written the word 'and' four times.

"We're being very good puppies!" moaned the blonde from earlier, and Senya felt her tongue running over the back of his leg. They were licking his whole available body. "We see how much Master likes it!"

Wh—oh. Damn it.

He was naked. His cock was as rigid and erect as a ship's mast, plain for all to see. How could he keep forgetting?

And now the fifth lust sprite had crammed her way in there and sat right between his legs, beaming up at him. She licked her lips. And then, to his horror, she raised her forepaws—her hands up at him and started to beg.

"Please, Master?" she whimpered. "Please let us be good puppies! We've been so good! Your puppies need a breeding, Master!" She leaned close and gave his balls a tender little lick. "Mm! And you taste so good, Master!"

"H-how can you..."

The puppy girls blinked up at him, big, wide-eyed... puppy-dog stares.

As he struggled to finish the letter—he realized he'd just written the word 'sincererererely', and didn't even bring himself to correct it—he found himself lost in their eyes. They looked so sweet. So needy. So needy for him.

Were they hypnotizing him? Was he so weak-willed, even a bunch of lust sprites could mind control him?

Or was he just that horny?

They were still licking him. Their tongues ran over his legs, his feet, his hand and lower arm, bathing him in their spit, their love. He was trembling.

"Master?" cooed the puppy between his legs. She leaned in and gave the head of his cock the most tentative of licks. "Master likes?"

Fuck it. She'd learned that from the catgirl.

"Yes!" he burst out, and he grabbed her by the head and shoved her down on his cock. She squealed with delight——a squeal echoed by all the lust sprites around her as her own voice became muffled.

They acted swiftly after that, grabbing him and almost wrenching him from the chair and bearing him to the bed, plastering him with kisses all the while. He could feel the lust waves now, bearing into him, filling his whole mind, but they almost weren't needed. He was just so fucking horny. Would he always be like this?

They cooed and giggled and whined as he fell back on the bed, the redhead's lips still rising up and down on his cock. He barely noticed the new location—the redhead was licking and sucking him like he was the tastiest thing she'd ever eaten.

All their tails were wagging. They were so happy. They'd grabbed his arms and now held them spread wide—pinning him to the bed, not that he cared. He was totally helpless as they covered him with licks, bathing him in their tongues. Two of them paid special attention to his face, lapping all over his cheeks and lips, growling their ownership. He was their Master. And for tonight, theirs alone.

"Are we your good puppies?" was the constant mantra. "Am I a good girl?"

"Yes!" he cried, feeling the redhead's warm, wet mouth run over his cock lovingly, bathed in lusty sensation. "Good puppy! Good girl!"

"Mmmm!" the puppy girl shrieked as she hit her peak. Her pleasure totally filled his mind, drowning him, drenching him in wet sucking and slurping sounds. The others followed suit, and through their lust waves, Senya came in her mouth with a hoarse cry.

She drank it all down, and kept sucking until another pulled her away. Then another puppy girl, this one a straight-haired platinum blonde, rose up and positioned herself atop him. She smiled down at him, eyes dull with vapid glee. "Am I your puppy?" she burbled.

"You're my good, good puppy," he whispered, running his hand through her hair. She whimpered at the sensation. "Now be a good girl and... and make Master cum."

She giggled and sank down on his shaft. He shook as her moist walls swallowed him up. She started to bounce very quickly in his lap, and soon all the lust sprites were screaming and writhing around him, kissing his every available inch of skin, eyes wild with a hivemind's ecstasy. "I'm yours!" they cried as one. "I'm your good puppy! Good, good p-puppy! Make Master happy! Make Master cuuum!"

"Good puppy!" he managed, shivering as they all seemed to come at once, squealing and whining with glee. The sprite bouncing on his cock seemed to tremble, and he felt her silken walls stroke over him, almost like a pair of lips. "Good girl! G-good—oh,gods—"

"Make Master come," moaned one, licking his neck.

"Come for us, Master," panted another, lapping beneath his arm. He giggled a little, involuntarily—he was very ticklish there—but she just kept licking, oblivious, desperate to bring him pleasure.

The sprite on his shaft looked down at him, and rolled her hips, panting for breath. Then she seemed to calm. She smiled at him. "Am I a good puppy?' she cooed sweetly. "Am I a good girl?"

Somehow, that was his limit. He came. He came screaming, shaking all over. He came mindlessly, instinct consuming him utterly, brain soaked and drunk with lust. They held him down to keep him from thrashing. And then the puppy sprite was off his cock, and five of them had gathered around to lick his throbbing cock clean, to slurp up the cum as it came. The tongue bath was overwhelming in its own way. It drew out the orgasm, drew out every ounce of pure pleasure.

His eyes widened. He could barely speak, could barely even move under his own power. He was too aroused to think.

"Do you like this?" cooed a lust sprite in his ear, giving it an affectionate lick.

"Yes!" he moaned, unable to help himself. "G-good girl! Good puppy! Good girl! M-my good little sluts—good girls, good puppysluts—good—good—"

He came again, jerking in their grip, but they only kept licking. His words seemed to have set a fire in them. Their eyes had gone heavy with lust, and arousal, and pure, simple joy. He could feel another orgasm already building.

He realized then what he'd done. They were not going to stop, not when they knew now how to maximize his bliss. And thanks to their auras—thanks to the prisoner fruit—he was only going to cum, and cum, and cum. Their tongues bathed him in their slick spit, bathed him in love, in wet, messy, sensuous strokes. Baked his brain in a lusty heat.

"Master likes this," whimpered a lust sprite in his other ear, licking his ear. "We do what Master likes best.

"G-good girl," he whimpered back. What else could he say?

Eventually, he couldn't even say that. All he could do was moan and wriggle and babble, helpless beneath their tongues. His only reprieves were the rare moments that his current tongue-bathers—because they alternated—paused their attentions to kiss and lick each other, devouring the cum from their faces. And seeing this only heightened his mindless lust.

Eventually, he drifted off into lusty sleep. And his dreams were full of Brigitte, and Nun, and the fleece sprites, and Sluk, and Tricin. But most of all, they were full of good, good girls with long tongues, wagging tails, and an overwhelming need to please.

And the lust sprites enjoyed their feast.

~~~~

"Good morning, Master!"

The voice was bright and cheery, but in a way Senya wasn't sure he fully liked—a way that suggested the speaker was struggling not to laugh.

Senya's eyes opened, feeling a pleasant droplet of pleasure burst through his cock. He looked up and blinked.

Oh. Right.

A nubile young blonde with floppy dog ears and big brown eyes was straddling his waist. She moaned and giggled as she rose up and down on his cock, slowly milking out the orgasm. The other lust sprites were all off the bed.

A hand was gripping his shoulder, he realized. From it spread strange feelings of calm and clarity. He watched the sprite, and felt the pleasure—and oh, there was pleasure—but his mind seemed almost totally free from the fog that had begun to fill it after too long in the sprites' company.

"Looks like someone was a good boy last night," Bobbin said, smirking.

Senya frowned up at her. "Y—oh—you had the others stop, but not her?"

"Well, she seems to be having fun," the Hob said slyly, running her hand down his arm. "And so do you."

"Yeah, well..." Senya broke off, gasping, as she rose up and down and he felt the orgasm start to approach. "I should—I need—"

"Master, if you can't get a single lust sprite off you when your mind is all but clear," Bobbin said with a chuckle, "you are going to lose your mind here. Literally. Especially since you're probably going to be having sex with these girls every night."

And Senya realized she was right. He wouldn't be able to help himself, even if he did get ahold of that amulet. He looked up at the puppy sprite, watched her breasts bounce, her lush pink lips half-open in an 'o' shape as she cooed out a little orgasm of her own. He would be so horny from the day's tribulations. Lamias, fleece sprites, alraune, slime girls, and all of them available to him, taunting him, teasing him. Even Bobbi, in her own way, teased him. If he came home every night to these gorgeous creatures in his bed, he would have no chance at resisting temptation. Not when they were so... eager.

One more orgasm, though. One more. He smiled, feeling the pleasure rush through him. Oh. Oh, yes. The pleasure mounted, and built, and burst. He barely managed to keep it to a low moan. His eyes screwed shut. He savored it. Savored the sounds of the sprite's cries. And he could feel another starting to rise within him. It was like the tides. In and out. In and out. In...

"Then again..." he heard Bobbin hiss in his ear, "if Master is really so keen on submitting to the charms of a single sprite's tight little cunt, I'm sure we could find new uses for him."

His eyes opened. He knew Bobbin was teasing—at least, he was pretty sure—but sheer embarrassment had shaken him from his stupor. What was he doing? He was stronger than this, surely.

"G'off," he whispered.

The lust sprite pouted, but obliged, crawling off of him. She gave his cock one last lick, then his cheek one last lick—then a second, longer lick, to lick off the cum that she'd just gotten on it—and hopped to the floor.

"I'm very proud of you, Master," Bobbin said. "I mean, I was absorbing five different lust auras, and you didn't have even one thanks to me, and you didn't exactly see me getting used as a sleeping dildo, but—"

"I get it," Senya said, sighing. "What's for breakfast, anyway?"

From seemingly out of nowhere, Bobbin procured a bowl of something pinkish. Senya looked at it skeptically. It looked something like applesauce with cream, and it had a fruity, spicy scent. She smiled invitingly at him.

"What is it?' he asked.

"Prisoner fruit sauce and... cream," she said, giggling. Senya didn't like it when she giggled. It was usually a sign something was turning her on.

He grimaced. "More prisoner fruit? You're really fattening me up, aren't you?"

"Trust me," the hob said, giving him a little lick on the cheek—he wasn't sure if this was mocking or not, but it made his cock throb all the same— "you'll need it."

~~~~

Senya and Bobbin made their way towards the barn. Jerrod was off checking with the fleece sprites, apparently, and Senya hadn't seen him at all yet today.

As they approached the doors to the big red barn, Bobbin stopped him. "Before you go in," she said, "there's some last few tips I can give you. But this is something you need to handle on your own. It's very important that you master this one, understand? The fate of Ambrosia Rach depends on how we manage this particular... livestock."

Senya looked down at his naked body, and his long, fully erect member. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of my odds."

She gave a little smile. "Well, no pressure."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a whistle. Senya, feeling a little bit more wary of accepting strange objects from fey these days—particularly fey who were so frequently less than helpful, to be frank—took a moment to examine the whistle before reaching out for it. It was made of a pale wood, and carved with numerous designs of flowers and whirlpools. Pine, he guessed, reflexively applying his expertise to the thing. It was pretty good craftsmanship, too, except for a single drop of amber that was installed in the tone hole. That was odd. It made the whistle useless.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A whistle."

"Oh, I thought it was a tuba. Thanks for clearing that one up."

Bobbin rolled her eyes. The Straw Boss dropped the whistle to dangle by a thin loop of twine. "This whistle is keyed to the Ambrosia Ranch. You can use it to signal... some of the less troublesome fey."

Senya crossed his arms. "That could be useful. Will it work on the fairies?"

"Uh..." Bobbin gave an awkward shrug. "Maybe? That's complicated."

"And not Brigitte, obviously. Or the lamia."

"Haha! No. Do you just want me to list who it will affect?"

"No, actually." Senya waved a hand. "I want to go over it myself. Fleece sprites?"

Bobbin bit her lip, scratching her sideburns. "Well, it might wake 'em up. A little."

Senya thought hard. "The slime girls?"

"Oh, yes, definitely!" Bobbin said, nodding eagerly.

"Great!" He grinned. "I was getting worried that—"

"Well..." Bobbin cut him off. She pursed her lips. "Not actually, not as such. No. That's a...a simplification, I guess."

Senya started to tap his fingers against his arm. "Okay, will it affect anything aside from the lust sprites?"

"Oh, certain—" Bobbin looked up at the sky. "Aw, geez. Look at the time! Sorry, Master, we just don't have time for these sorts of hilarious banterings. No, it will only work on the lust sprites. I've been deliberately wasting your time as a joke."

Senya kept his face totally blank as he accepted the whistle. "Okay. Okay. What else?"

"I have a few... trigger words." She shifted slightly. "I can't speak 'em aloud, though, 'cause they, uh... 'cause." She drew out a piece of paper.

Senya considered her. She looked uneasy. Bobbin was often cagey, but always for good reason. His mind clicked to the only logical conclusion. "Do they work on you?"

"You are getting good at guessing, Master." Bobbin chewed her upper lip as she handed him the paper. "It makes me hopeful. These trigger words will make the target react in certain ways." She pointed out each phrase in turn. "That one will make them orgasm. It works on all the fey except Valina, the Thriae and the lamia, along with... some others. This phrase will just make them really, really horny. I only recommend using that as a last resort. You bet it can backfire. And these ones will make them forget the last two minutes, twenty minutes, or two hours, respectively. Risky. Very risky. Never use them if you can help it."

Senya frowned. There was one more item on the list she hadn't read off. This one wasn't an audible trigger—it was a physical sensation. A very lewd action, really. "So, wait. Who controls these triggers? Don't triggers need a mindweaver to keep them running?"

"That last item on the list is special," she said. "It will cause lactation."

"You didn't—what?"

"Please don't use it on anyone outside this barn. Valina in particular gets really rambunctious when she's... producing. Honestly, this is one of the weirdest triggers on the list to give every single captive on the Ranch. But..." She shrugged. "Your great-great uncle liked it. A lot."

"Does that mean you have it?" He looked her over, eying her tightly-buttoned shirt. "So if I was to..."

She giggled. "Simmer down, carpenter. One getting-in-over-your-head at a time. Speaking of which." She pointed into the barn. "Pocket that paper. Commit it all to memory as soon as possible, then destroy it."

Out of habit, Senya was already starting to obey, but the last one gave him pause. "Wait. Really?"

"Anyone can use most of these, Master. You, me, livestock, ene... anyone. They're fluid triggers. Why do you think I'm allowed to use 'Good Girl'? Why do you think Jerrod or I can throw Valina a toy and expect her to chase it?" Bobbin looked very serious again. "If the woman in this barn got ahold of it... well, it would be problematic. Let's leave it at that."

"You're not making me feel much more confident."

"No? Good. You shouldn't be." Bobbin clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry, but if I help you with this, it'll be worse for both of us, long-term. You need to manage to do this. If you fail... well, there's always second chances."

"Can you at least explain why?" Senya rolled his eyes. "Why do we have to jump through these hoops? To be honest, I don't feel like I'm getting much better at this. In fact, I sort of feel like losing to these monsters weakens me every time."

"Sure." Bobbin grinned. "Because you've never been with them before. This isn't just about resistance, Master—it's about getting used to things. Trust me, she'll hold back if I'm there. I want her... confident."

"Did you just say you're sending me in alone to give her a... a false sense of security?" Senya shifted. "Because that sounds a little—"

Bobbin gave his butt a shove. "Get moving, Master! We have chores to do."

"Wait, what am I even supposed to do here?" he protested. But he was already walking through the doorway.

"Fill the bucket." Bobbin raised an eyebrow as the barn doors began to close. Just before they slammed shut, she called, "And use the trigger!"

The sound of the twin slams echoed throughout the vast construction. For a moment, Senya's vision was dulled, as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.

He found himself alone in a vast corridor absolutely filled with straw, such that he had to take extremely high steps just to crunch his way through. On either side were stalls with sliding wooden doors. Most were empty, or full of farm equipment. Some of the equipment was ordinary—wheelbarrows, broken ploughs, an impressive quantity of hoes—and some was decidedly esoteric.

As he went, Senya passed by a stall full of what was clearly bondage equipment. He paused, peering inside. Whips and cats o' nine tails hanged from the walls, along with collars, strapons, and shackles—some fuzzy and almost playful, some wraught-iron and covered with arcane sigils. The center of the stall was occupied by an actual rack. He swallowed, noticing the 'extra features' the rack bore: Nipple clamps, feathers, paintbrushes, and a set of leather chaps that had been left on the table. Conspicuous stains marked the place roughly where the occupant's groin would be.

This stall was not particularly dusty. Idly, Senya wondered if Bobbin fit those chaps.

He glanced to the left. The stall on the opposite side contained a large, cobweb-covered sewing machine, as well as a collection of disturbingly-stained knives and saws. He swallowed. Well. This is weird.

There were only a few more stalls, and all but one had closed doors. Next to the open stall, propping the door open, he saw a large, steel bucket. It was roughly the size of his torso.

From behind the stall door, he could hear faint moans.

Okay, he thought, advancing with an increasing feeling of doom, so she lives in a barn. I'm supposed to fill a pail. Cow. Holstaur. Fuck, what are holstaurs good at, again?

Unfortunately, Senya realized that his sole experience with holstaurs was from a lewd graphic novel he'd read some years ago. The drawings had depicted holstaurs as massive-breasted centaur-like women desperate to be milked, willing to do anything just for the privilege of having their udders squeezed by a strapping young male protagonist. They had been utterly eager to submit.

From all the buildup this encounter had been given, Senya had a feeling the story had minimized some elements.

He glanced back at the bucket, swallowed, and stepped up to the doorway.

The interior of this final stall wasn't quite what he'd been expecting. He realized he'd expected some sort of standard dusty stall, just with a woman inside, instead of farm tools. But this room was full of freshly-mowed green grass. In the right-hand corner closer to the door was a large thing covered by a white sheet. The stall was suffused with the strong scent of rosemary, and he could see the source: There were of herbs hanging above the doorway. Rose petals trailed from the entrance, red striking against green, and into the far corner of the room.

And lounging in the corner was the holstaur.

The comic had not exaggerated. If anything...

The first thing Senya noticed was that she was nothing like a centaur—she was fully humanoid, just like the fleece sprites, save for her lower legs, which were covered with spotted black-and-white fur, and which ended in hooves.

The second thing he noticed was, well, twofold.

The holstaur's breasts were immense. Ridiculously immense. Comedically immense. Each breast was the size of a small watermelon, and they were covered by a length of silk that seemed to be constantly on the verge of snapping. Beneath the thin silk, Senya saw smooth, pearl-white skin and dark aerolas. The area around the nipples was unmistakably wet.

She had long silver hair, and her skin was surprisingly pale. Then again, if she spent most of her life in this barn, perhaps that wasn't so surprising. Her eyes were a deep hazel—easily the least green eyes he'd ever seen on a non-lust sprite fey. Those eyes watched him, vaguely amused, as he stared down at her.

She lay in the grass, smiling lazily up at him, one finger toying with one nipple through the silk. Her legs were furry, but they were also spread wide, and her pussy was just slightly open as the other hand fiddled with it.

She regarded him for a moment, then glanced at the pail. Her eyes widened slightly. She looked back at him, her lips parting just a fraction of a second before she started to speak. "Y-you're here to milk me?"

Her voice was slow and sensuous, but rose slightly on the word 'milk'.

"Um..." Senya swallowed. "Yeah. Yes. I am."

"Oh, thank the goddess." She gave a weak laugh, rising to her feet. "It's been... so long..."

"Doesn't Bobbin milk you?" Senya found himself staring straight at her breasts. She was tall.

"Oh, no." She shook her head. Her breasts bounced with every step she took as she slowly advanced towards him. "Only my wonderful Master can milk me. And I've waited..." her voice dropped to a breath, "so, so long."

"Uh, hold on." Senya took a step back, holding up the pail like a shield. "I... I don't think I want to..."

"What is it, Master?" She cocked her head. Those eyes... they seemed legitimately naive. Innocent. Senya had learned to mistrust innocent eyes.

"I know how this goes," he said, struggling not to trip on his own words. He could feel his cock throbbing, could tell it longed to thrust within her. "You... you're gonna tackle me, and hypnotize me, and fuck me, and..." He licked his lips. "And this time I'm not gonna get a rescue, I don't think. They expect me to handle this on my own. So you'll... if I give in, you'll fuck my brains out, and make me a slave, and then I'll really be in trouble. And it all comes down to if I give in. So I'm saying no."

The holstaur stared at him, wide-eyed. Silence hung between them for a moment.

Then, she burst out into giggles. "Oh, Master... why didn't you say so?"

He blinked. He'd expected denials, or even just a flat-out attempt to hypnotize him on the spot. "What?"

"Of course you're worried, dear boy." The big-breasted beauty put a finger to her pouting lips. "Just look at me. I'd be worried about me, too. I can barely keep from fucking myself all the time. You? Ooh, you must be so horny, looking at someone like me, with a cock so big and needy."

Senya bit his lip. "Right."

"But I promise not to tackle you!" She winked. "Or fuck your brains out, even. I won't make you do anything." Her fingers both played over her breasts, and her words turned breathy. "I'll be such a good holstaur for you. I'll even ask permission!"

"that... your word doesn't mean much." He bit his lip. "Sorry. You're not a nymph, after all."

"Ooh! Somebody knows his fey!" She tittered. "Yes, I'm not bound to my word, but I am bound to that." She gestured behind her, at the large covered object. "Or... I can be."

Senya stared at it. Beneath the sheet, it looked something like a reclining chair. "What is it?"

"Oh, Master..." She swayed her hips as she moved towards it. Even from behind, he could see her improbably breasts jiggling with every motion. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it away. "You will come to adore it."

It was a massive armchair. A chair of billowing blue silks, with long ribbons that unmistakably resembled restraints. The holstaur hopped up—and how she managed to be so athletic with those ridiculous things, Senya had no idea—and settled into the chair, wiggling her butt a little to get comfortable. She slipped her arms and legs into the restrains, then grinned at him coquettishly. "Almost ready!" she called. She beckoned him over with one curled finger.

Senya reluctantly approached. She smiled up at him, seeming totally comfortable with this situation. "Do me here," she indicated her wrists, "here," she indicated her belly, "and here," she indicated her legs.

Senya realized, after a moment of furious blushing, that she wanted him to fix the restraints in place.

He hunched to handle the wrists, first, and couldn't help but admire the smoothness of her skin. He proceeded to her feet—her toes wiggled playfully as he drew the silk knot taut—and then, hands trembling, her belly. His hands were right below her breasts, and she giggled as he worked. "It tickles!" she squeaked.

He couldn't resist. He reached up with one hand and tickled right underneath her breast. She let out a startled squeal. "Naughty boy! Heehee!"

As he tickled the breast, beads of pure-white milk began to appear at the tip of her nipple. She squirmed against his fingers, giggling louder. He kept tickling, amused and turned on, until a bit of milk actually squirted out and hit him in the cheek.

He blinked. So did she.

She licked her lips. "Want me to... get that for you?" she husked.

Without thinking, Senya found himself leaning in. He felt her tongue lap against his cheek, cleaning away the milk. She laughed. "Darling boy."

Then his senses returned to him. He quickly pulled back, coughing. "Um... better not waste any more. Sorry."

"Oh, believe me, little one, I was not complaining." She winked.

But it was done. The cowgirl was totally trussed up. She sat calmly in that chair in front of him, totally helpless—in theory. Senya knew that, in reality, a fey could be dangerous even bound as tight as an arachne girl's mate.

He looked down at the pail and bit his lip. "Now what?"

"Now?" she beamed at him. Her expression seemed considerably less innocent now. "Now, dear boy... you milk me. You clearly know the trigger. Bobbi taught you, I take it?" Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and almost made him drowsy to look at. "I don't suppose she left any... other instructions? Perhaps I could help you work out what to do next with me."

"But..." He ignored this offer and glanced at the bucket. "So I just leave it at your feet. Because I can't lift that if it gets full."

"Yes, dear." She nodded patiently. "It is enchanted to catch any milk that passes nearby it, so aim isn't an issue. I just need your lovely fingers again."

He swallowed. He wanted to stall further, but he had a feeling that drawing out his time with the holstaur might be a bad idea. So he reached forward, only to realize that he still needed to remove her blouse. It was tied behind her back.

He suddenly wished he'd done this earlier. Now she was in the chair, he couldn't just have her turn around to do it. He had to actually... reach around her body. And her breasts were large enough that this was no small task. It would require a tight embrace to reach both hands.

He hesitated. Uncertainly, he reached forward again. "Do you mind...?"

"Oh, no, darling." She smiled up brightly at him. Her smile was the same, but those eyes were not youthful. Those eyes spoke of years, centuries of experience.

Senya had never had the sense that he was sleeping with older women when he'd slept with the lust sprites, or Brigitte. Despite their many years, they always acted as if they were his age. But this holstaur felt... different. She knew him. Or knew how to handle people like him, anyways.

"What's your name?" he found himself asking.

She only smiled and leaned forward a little. His arms would now have room to move behind her, but still not enough that he could enter entirely from her right.

He rubbed his palms together. Enough delaying. Taking a deep breath, as if by avoiding breathing in any of her musk he would be able to avoid getting even harder, Senya reached around her with one arm. Yes, and there was the knot, right at the center of her back. He could feel it. Now he just had to undo it.

He was now leaning over her. She was smiling right up at him.

The carpenter reached forward with his other hand. His chest pressed against her breasts, and he felt a sudden wetness against his bare skin. She really is lactating. She let out a soft moan. And she's getting off on it.

Unfortunately, he still couldn't quite reach. He leaned in further, practically pressing his chest right up against her face. His other hand finally reached the knot, which was surprisingly tight. He supposed it had to be tight to keep these amazing breasts in check.

He gave a little start as a different sort of wet feeling flicked over his bare chest. It took him a moment to realize: She had licked him!

"Stop that!" he yelped. "Please, you promised!"

A pause.

"So I did, Master," she said, her voice suddenly demure. "Do you not like it?" She gazed up at him, a guilty frown marring her perfect face.

"I..." No, he told himself. Be firm. And not in the way that he was currently pressing against her knee. "Just... try not to lick me without asking for it. Please."

"I'm sorry, Master. It just feels... so good." Her shoulders rose up and down in an uneven wriggle. "To finally be getting milked again."

"Why can't Bobbin milk you, anyways?" Damn, this knot was complicated. His fingers were getting sore working on it.

"Bobbin did, once." The holstaur laughed. "She, um... she took a taste to it. They had to ban her from the task."

His knotwork froze for a moment. "Oh." Even Bobbin had had trouble with this? 'Took a taste' to it?

Senya finally pulled back, drawing the strip of silk away. He watched as the breasts bounced free, her big, pert nipples fully on display. He licked his lips without even thinking about it, seeing the liquid forming at the tips. She let out a soft moan. "Oh, baby, that feels so good."

"So..." He swallowed again. Was it humid in here? "Are you, um, ready?

"Oh, darling boy..." She used her shoulders to push her breasts together, just a little. "I'm just... oozing, aren't I? If only I had some handsome young man who could relieve some of this ache. I'd be so grateful to him."

Senya hesitated. "But..."

"The bucket," she moaned. "You have to lean over and milk me. It'll squirt into the bucket. Oh, please, I need it so bad—"

Senya reached forward with one hand and touched a nipple. As if desperate as for release as its owner, a little bit of milk dribbled out. A strangely familiar smell filled Senya's mind.

He put his doubted aside, placed his hands beneath both breasts, and started to tickle. He didn't know much about milking, but it was soon clear that no expertise was needed—the holstaur squealed and giggled as milk shot out of her tits and rained into the bucket. The milk seemed to follow impossible arcs to land directly inside.

He tickled expertly. He'd always been a good tickler. Quite soon, the holstaur seemed almost totally insensible.

"Oh, yes—" the holstaur whimpered, "yes, yes, yes—yes-yes-yes—wonderful, thank you, I'm a good cow, a good cow—" Her back arched, and she screamed up at him, "Thank you, Master!" as she came.

Senya slowed down his attentions, just a hair.

"Don't stop," she whispered. "Don't you dare!"

So he didn't. He kept stroking and tickling her breasts, and the orgasm went on. And on. His cock was rock-hard. He was salivating at the delectable smell. It was exhausting work.

At last, seeing that the bucket was almost half-full, he decided to take a break. He sat down on the chair's arm, taking in deep breaths. The holstaur panted behind him, still recovering.

Bobbin had been so afraid of this woman. Was she... was she only afraid of the holstaur because it could control her? It would explain a lot.

"Mm..." The holstaur squirmed happily. Senya looked down at the bucket—almost halfway full—then at her. She smirked up at him. "Darling boy."

"You enjoyed that?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

"You know, I did." She wiggled her hips a little, returning the smile. "And I see you did, too."

He looked down at his throbbing manhood. Oh, he was naked again.. This was just going to be his default state for a while, wasn't it?

"Did I do that?" she asked, in a tone of mock-naivete. "Goodness, I know how you feel. I'm just... oozing, aren't I?"

He turned to face her, his legs diagonal across her own. She lounged back in the armchair. Her expression was fond, but there was a quality to it that Senya wasn't sure he liked. Or, rather, he wasn't sure why he liked it so much.

"You like me, baby?" she whispered. "You want me?"

"I—" Danger. Danger. "I, um—"

"Oh, silly boy. I know you do." Senya felt her hand rest on his leg, right next to his cock. "I want you, too. I want to thank you. You've been such a sweet little thing for me."

"Don't..." His mouth was dry. "Don't touch my cock."

A pause. Senya tried to focus on her lips, lush and pink, keeping everything else out of his head. "Of course. Not without permission."

"Yeah. Okay." He tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left in his mouth. He licked his suddenly chapped lips.

She seemed to notice this. "Thirsty?" her lips cooed.

"Um..." His eyes traveled, unbidden, down to her breasts. Massive. Smooth and soft. Dripping.

"You could just try a taste, you know," she murmured, hand petting his leg soothingly. "Just a sip. It would wet your throat. Make you feel better, mm?"

"Mm..." Senya tried to form an objection, but her breasts were drawing all of his attention right now. They heaved a little bit.

"Just looking at them feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Mm..."

"Don't worry, baby, you don't have to answer. No, little one." Her tone was so sweet, so... motherly, Senya could feel himself slipping under once again. It was so hard to think, or to worry about what she was saying. "Don't have to think about my words. Just focus on what you want and what I want. They're the same thing, I think, aren't they, darling?"

"Mm?"

"Mm-hm." The holstaur leaned forward, as far as the silk bindings would allow. Her breasts bounced. "Why not try a drink?" she whispered. "It would be so sweet, my sweet boy. Just a sip. Just a taste."

Just a taste.

He struggled to fight it, but her breasts loomed before him. They looked so sweet... so beautiful... he could feel himself leaning down into her waiting arms...

"Poor, silly boy," she murmured. "You're so silly and confused, and you know my boobies' sweet milk will make you feel so much better. They can make you all big and strong and hard and horny for me, and that would make me so happy. All you need do is ask."

"No..." he whimpered. He had to fight this! He struggled to pull away, to resist the magnetic pull...

"Oh, yes." She chuckled. "If only there was another way for you to wet your thirst. Then, maybe, you could resist it. Then, maybe, you could get back to work. But you're so thirsty, and my poor baby needs his milk..."

Wait.

There was another way!

Senya pulled himself back up, a triumphant smile on his face. "Not so fast!" he said, reaching down. There was a convenient ladle on the ground, and he picked it up. It was actually quite clean. Lucky it had happened to be there.