Proving Her Right
by GigglingGoblin
Tags:
#D/s
#dom:female
#f/m
#humiliation
#hypnosis
#sub:male
#begging
#bratty_sub
#breast_fixation
#CW:dubious_consent
#CW:wholesome
#embarrassment
#fantasy
#forced_masturbation
#fractionation
#friends_to_lovers
#it's_actually_consensual_nonconsent_but_better_to_err_on_the_side_of_caution
#kissing
#mind_control
#pendant
#petty_domme
#reluctance
#teasing
#trigger
The pillows of moss which spilled up through the cracks in the cobble only faintly muffled the furious click-clack of black fencer’s heels as Lady Clarke paced the length of courtyard. She was glaring down at the cracks as though these bricks had broken some personal promise to her.
Tamelie swallowed, watching the noblewoman pace. She glanced back at Hennie, but her senior maid only smiled encouragingly and waved her on, remaining safely behind the hedges.
She turned back and took a tentative step closer.
“L-Lady Clarke?” She couldn’t quite keep the stutter out of her voice as she gazed up at the towering…
“Sworddaughter. Sworddaughter Clarke.” Lady Clarke’s correction was immediate. She didn’t even seem to register Tamelie’s presence for a moment, but then she blinked, and stopped short to stare. “You. Where the Scratch is my sparring partner?”
Tamelie’s fingers tapped one another. She searched for Hennie, but her coworker had already vanished from sight. Bitch.
She turned back to Sworddaughter Clarke, managing an apologetic smile. “I fear that Dame Coral has been… detained, m’lady.” She tried to give a curtsey that conveyed both I’m sorry and Please remember that it would be terribly undignified to shout at the castle staff over this. “She regrets that she will be late to your duel.”
Sworddaughter Clarke’s jaw set. “Unbelievable. Unbelievable. That lowborn… she’s going to keep me waiting? Does she know I’ve come all the way from the capital?”
There were quite a few cities that considered themselves the Rose Valley’s capital. Tamelie, who was quite new here, wasn’t sure which one Clarke meant. She just swallowed and shrugged awkwardly. “I can go and… tell her, m’lady?” She prayed that Clarke would agree and send her away. She could get a lot of leisure time out of ‘looking’ for someone.
“Huh! No need.” Sworddaughter Clarke rolled her eyes. “I can wait. Did she happen to say what delayed her?” She paused. “And where is Sir Lucent, may I ask?”
Tamelie bit her lip.
- - - -
“Oh, what a load of crap.” Dame Coral rolled her eyes, tossing down a card. “You’re trying so hard to rationalize it.”
“I don’t need to!” Sir Lucent suppressed a laugh, reaching down to collect the card and add it to his hand. He eyed it with distaste. It wasn’t worth what he’d bid for it. “Unlike you, I don’t need to bluff to score my wins.”
Dame Coral wore the face she usually wore when she was trying not to smirk as she collected her advancements.“And yet you defend the cuckoo.”
They were seated at an old coffee table in the castle’s east wing. The halls around them were in deep disrepair—the wing was still being repaired after a particularly nasty storm had totally wrecked it, but repairs were on hold due to the lumber shortage.
“I don’t even see why it’s a question of ‘defending’.” He raised his hands defensively anyways, smiling slyly. “The cuckoo doesn't have some sort of moral imperative to be nice, does it? Do you hold wolves and foxes to the same standard?”
“Bears and foxes.” Coral’s brows creased in an obvious effort at containing her temper. Gods, it was so fun to see her flustered. The glitter to her green eyes, the slight pout to her unpainted pink lips… the way she shifted in her seat, those practical fencing trousers giving away every slight movement… She brushed a stray lock of red hair out of those gleaming eyes and fixed him with a glare. “Predators get their kills honestly. They expend massive energy to catch what they need, and they kill what they catch. It’s clean. They don't parasitize their kills!”
"Because they parasitize a species instead." Lucent chuckled, drawing a card and adding it to his hand. "Really, parasites just do what predators do but with less risk involved and less death required. If anything, they’re the superior niche. It’s far less wasteful, wouldn’t you say?"
He couldn’t remember how they’d even gotten to talking about this subject. He doubted she could, either. Arguments were just sort of the air they shared.
Coral huffed. “Right. Of course.” She leaned in, fixing him with a disdainful stare. “But that subtlety causes plenty of problems of its own. A wolf's danger is known and can be managed. A disgusting mosquito, though—”
“Emotional language,” Lucent chided, his tone playful but bordering on cross.
“—relies on deception, meaning it can cause problems neither it nor we can do anything about. If a wolf overhunts, it can move to a new forest. If a mosquito is spreading a deadly disease, nobody will realize until all its hosts are. Well. Dead. Liars will strangle themselves in their own webs, given time, but they always take others with them.” She raised her eyebrows. “Shouldn't a proper knight like you detest trickery?”
Lucent's nose wrinkled at her tone. ‘Proper’ knight.
The truth was, Coral dressed and carried herself much more like a ‘proper’ knight than he did—in contrast to his casual shirt and trousers, Coral wore the clean but well-used uniform of a duelist, and in contrast to his messy dark hair, her red hair was clean and brushed til it shone. She wasn't dressed to be fashionable or alluring—although with a figure like that, even functional trousers suited her—but she made an effort, and he didn’t.
He didn't have to, after all. Sir Lucent had the embarrassment of noble birth protecting him. Dame Coral was just a Swordmiss. And knowing their mutual disdain for titles, she of course loved to tease him about it at every opportunity.
“Of course I detest trickery,” he said slowly, feeling fairly certain as he said it that she was referencing one of those theatrical plays of hers.
“Then why are we ourselves to be deceived?” she asked sweetly. She placed down her bid, and he winced. “Wouldn't you rather face the wolf than the mosquito, Sir Lucent? Or would you rather your hands be tied by not knowing your enemy?”
Lucent squinted at her. Then he smiled. “Oh, but Coral, you’re generalizing. I mean that I detest the sorts of trickery that, as you say, strangle. But some forms of trickery are for one’s own good, don’t you think?”
“That's nonsense, and you know it. It's always better to know what can hurt you.”
“But what of things that can heal you?” Lucent tossed his hand on the table to accept the bid. Dame Coral's eyes narrowed as she realized she'd bid far more than she’d needed to. “Oh, Coral, you spend too much time in that little peasant garden of yours and not enough amongst the erudite elite.”
Her eyes blazed at the teasing. But, well, she’d started it. “Do educate me, then, brave Sir Knight!”
“Have you ever heard of the honeydrop effect, Coral?”
“No.”
“Village witches have admitted that sometimes, they don't have any medicine to treat an ailment. Like a broken finger, or a common cold.” Sir Lucent made a show of looking out the window over the castle grounds, but his eyes remained near Coral, admiring her frustrated expression as she waited for him to reach the point. “So they’ll mix a ‘honeydrop’ potion. Or sometimes a candy, or a poultice. It's usually nothing but a little bit of honey, but they tell the patient it's exactly what's needed for it to work.”
“So it emotionally comforts them. Fine. But—”
He held up a finger. “No, but that's the thing, isn't it? It helps. It's been proven to help just a little bit more than if the patient was given nothing at all. Their minds convince themselves they've been healed, so they are.”
“Yes, but that's—” Dame Coral shook her head like his words were flies buzzing around her head. “For one thing, helpful or not, that's a meaningful breach of trust.”
“Maybe for the witch. But you, Coral, have been moralizing about the actions of insects and animals. Do you think wolves and mosquitoes have a sense of honor?”
“No, but—"
“Do you think the wolf feels betrayed that the mosquito didn’t disclose the potential for infection from a single bite?”
“Okay, but you’re…”
She trailed off.
“You’re the one who brought ethics into it,” Lucent said gently. “I’m just saying that knowing a parasite is there doesn’t necessarily do its prey any good. Does it, now?”
Coral’s foot tapped against the stone floor.
This was always how he got her, when he managed to win one of these debates. Coral could be terrifying when the argument stuck to the facts, but she had a bad habit of instinctively disagreeing with whatever points her opponent would make before she’d had the chance to process them. He'd learned that the trick was to lure her out. He’d learned how to bait her into overextending until she realized she was defending points she didn't actually agree with herself.
Now Coral was fuming silently down at her cards, cheeks red, nibbling on a knuckle as she visibly searched for a way to retreat gracefully. Now was the time to be gracious in his victory over his friend-slash-rival.
Sir Lucent giggled, dropping the last of his winning hand. “Aaand I think that's Snapdragon, by the way.”
Coral’s cheeks got redder. Her eyes blazed with indignation. Nibble, nibble.
“Oh, Cora.” Lucent shook his head with a smile, indulgent with a dip into her forbidden nickname. “You really should slow down a little, you know? Take your time to think things through.”
She hmphed quietly, letting her own cards spill to the table. A decisive loss. “I'm still right.”
“Mm, I don't knowww...” Lucent leaned back in his chair. “I mean, honestly. I feel like logic won the day here. It's okay to admit you're wrong, Swordmiss."
Coral’s fingers drummed against the table, nails clacking against the worn wood.
Unable to resist one more jab, he tilted his head with a quizzical expression. “Maybe you can try taking a nice, deep breath before each response. Just to make sure you’re staying rational and detached, you know?”
He was milking this for all it was worth. But Coral seemed to be letting him get away with it, and really, it wasn’t like she didn't crow over her own victories twice as badly. She’d dragged this silly debate on for over an hour. He’d earned a little taunting.
Coral pouted, studying the cards. She actually did take a deep breath.
Then she looked up at him sharply. “There's a flaw in your argument.”
Sir Lucent raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” If she was this cross, no way would she be able to compose any proper argument now. She was basically inviting him to do a victory lap around her.
And, well, if she was offering...
“You overextended yourself a little.” She tilted her head quizzically to the side, an odd expression spreading across her face. "”You praised parasitism as a ‘superior’ tactic for survival over predation.”
"And?" Sir Lucent smiled sheepishly. He had said that just to bait her. A little silly, but…
“Well, that just doesn't make sense to me.” She sighed airily. “After all, aren't symbiotes so... dependent?”
"Not moreso than predators."
“Ah, but a predator's needs are simple and supple." She had on the most inscrutable kind of smile at the moment. “But a symbiote's needs... well, think about the Queen's orchid. Are you familiar?”
“... No.” Of course the Gardener Knight would transition to talking about flowers.
“Of course not. Not enough time in my little peasant garden. Well, I grow a few of them, and they're really lovely flowers. But their ecology is even more fascinating.” She leaned back in her seat slightly, feet kicking under the table, the hand she was nibbling falling to the table. “You see, the Queen's orchid evolved long ago to lure in a specific species of solitary bee. The orchid closely resembles a female of the bee's species, and it puts out pheromones that are quite similar.” Her eyes sparkled. “You mentioning ‘taking a deep breath’ put me in mind of it.”
“Oh, really?’ Lucent leaned forward a little; Coral was speaking a little quietly. He was happy to humor this tangent. “Well, I'm no flower expert, as you well know. So the flower is symbiotic with the bee species?”
“Yes.” Something about her smile was putting Lucent off-balance. It was a familiar smile. “Here. So, just as an example... you know, a visual aid…”
She reached up, and her fingers hooked around her loose shirt's neckline.
Sir Lucent realized his mistake just a second too late.
She tugged the neckline down, and as it revealed her cleavage, it also revealed a plain twine necklace strung with a delicate dangling crystal bell.
“... imagine my pendant is the flower~”
Lucent's heart started to race. His lips parted with an objection, but briefly, no sound emerged.
Her smile widened. “That's right. You... remember this pendant, right?”
The pendant sparkled slightly in the indirect sunlight.
He swallowed, shaking his head weakly. “No, tha—that's not—f-fair, you ca—”
“Shush.” Coral smirked. “You shouldn't interrupt, Lucent." Her finger looped beneath the string of the necklace and slowly lifted it so the bell just slightly elevated, dangling just above her breasts. “You shouldn't get so... emotional when I'm just laying out facts.”
Lucent squirmed. He fought to look away, but he'd stupidly picked the table close to the window, and the bell was catching the late morning sun just so, glimmering, sparkling as she let it dangle. It was weightier than it looked, hanging just above the curve of her perfect bosom.
“Just focus on my words, Lucent.” A soft, sly giggle. “You can do that, right? Focus on my words.”
The bell swung slowly, giving a faint chime.
“Think about the allure of the orchid. Its scent. Its beauty.” The bell chimed again. Sparkled. Flashed. “That flower calling to the bee, calling him closer…”
Chime.
“Closer…”
Chime.
“I... you…”
He was blushing furiously. He could only stare in helplessness as the bell swung to and fro. Every time he thought he was about to manage to pull away, that bell would reach its precipice and chime, flicking his gaze instinctively back to the source, and it would glimmer like church windows.
“It's just natural that the bee should submit,” Coral purred. He saw a smirk creeping across those soft lips out of the corner of his eye. "He can't resist the temptation. He can't keep his head. It’s so natural to let the female of the species lull him into a nice, dumb, dazed trance... guide him closer, closer to that pretty flower…" She pushed her chest out slightly.
“Y-You…”
“And all he can do…”
Chime.
“... is drop right into it."
He heard a finger snap.
The whole world wobbled a little. It took all Lucent’s might to not instantly fall, and he… wasn’t fully sure he hadn’t.
“That’s right. Falling right into that sweet, lovely temptation.” Coral’s words were getting more distant and yet more close at the same time. Echoing right in his mind as if from down a long tunnel. He watched the bell swing. Chime.
He felt himself swaying slightly. This wasn't... fair...
“But.” Her tone rose to a soft giggle. “That bee is long-gone, my sweet Lucent. The bee left these lands a long time ago. And that poor orchid is now left without its main pollinator.”
Swing. Swing. Chime. Lucent swayed slowly in time. He knew he was doing it. But it felt so... natural... and even when he managed to look away, he kept just staring at her breasts instead, those nice, soft breasts which she'd used to half-trance him so many times already…
“The poor orchid,” he heard her purr, her voice like a feather boa encircling his mind. "It depended so much on that little bee. For all its cunning mimicry, all its pretty displays, in the end, it was really just their…” Her tone lowered, and that feather boa started to squeeze like a constrictor. “... pet. Their adoring, obedient servant.” She giggled. “Wouldn't you say~?”
“Nn…” He shook his head blearily. He wasn't sure what she was saying anymore, but the purr of her words told him he should disagree on principle, even though that wasn't the least bit logical, even though that made him look foolish...
Swinging to the left. Chime. Swinging to the right. Chime.
“No? Once, the orchids depended on the bee. But now the orchid is gone. And now…” He sensed Cora leaning in closer over the table, pulling her loose shirt taut until her breasts were practically spilling right out.
Swing. Swing. Crystal chimes ringing through his head, leaving everything feeling so gooey and soft and…
And with a little laugh, Coral let the bell fall right back between her cleavage, squishing it between her tits. The chiming went silent “Now those orchids in my garden depend on Miss Cora. Don't they?"
Lucent’s head lolled.
Coral’s smile widened. She caressed the bell with a fingertip, then curled a finger in invitation. "Now. They're. Mine~"
He was panting, head swimming. He felt those fingers tugging as if on a leash, and he found himself leaning in closer, staring helplessly at Cora’s tits...
“That's right,” she cooed. “You understand, don't you?”
“I…”
“Now I have all the control, don't I?”
“Nngh…”
She brought both hands to either side of her chest and slowly squeezed her breasts together, squishing the bell totally out of sight. “They're in my power now, silly~!" She giggled. “My helpless things. Captive. Dependent. Aren't they?”
Lucent felt his hardness tenting his trousers beneath the table. He barely held in a whimper, but his head felt so heavy...
She giggled, tilting her head mischievously to the side. “Well?”
"Wh..." He blinked. "Huh?"
"Where is your counterargument, Sir Lucent?" Cora asked sweetly. “Surely a clever, logical man like you…” She squeezed her tits together again, bouncing them slighty, and his head bounced in time. “... has a very cogent and well-thought explanation for why I'm wrong. You were so eager to speak up earlier~!"
“I…” He licked his lips, struggling to make himself struggle to look away. Bounce. Bounce. “Right. R-Right. I—um—”
“Hm?"
He flushed. “You, um…” His head felt like a stone, his thoughts like slow-molten lava. “You’re, um... wrong..”
"Oh, no! Am I? How so?”
“You—” He had to fight to keep his hand out of his lap as he watched those magnificent tits bounce. Squish. His breaths had gone shallow, as if he were already trapped inside. “Y-You... the flower's, um... s-still getting, the, the…”
“Still getting its nutrients? Still managing to reproduce?” She shook her head in mock-disappointment. “Yes, of course, while under my complete control. Do you think a spoiled lapcat is in control, Sir Lucent? Do you think a pampered hunter’s hound has outsmarted its mistress? Do you think a dreamy, dizzy knight has mastered their lady when they receive their kiss?”
“But—but that's not—”
“I suppose you might argue that a collared pet has proven quite successful,” she murmured, reaching over with one hand to take his chin. Her other hand cupped a breast and slowly bounced it before his captive eyes. “Having all of its needs attended to? A slave to the whims of a pretty girl?”
“Ghh... “ He was almost drooling. Her touch felt so nice, so welcome. He was trying to remember why he didn't want it. It was… she was... um, cheating…?
“So do go on, Sir Lucent.” She laughed lightly, pulling her hand away—he realized he'd been about to start nuzzling it. “Why don't you demonstrate that famous rapier wit of yours? Dazzle me with all of those oh-so-clever words.”
She swayed slowly from side to side. He heard a muted chime from between those breasts as they giggled and squished. He swayed with them, mind sloshing with nonsense, that muffled chime matching his muffled thoughts…
“I... the flower, um…”
“Speak up, Sir Lucent!” Cora laughed. “Don't tell me those words are just starting to melt right out of your pretty little head!”
“N-No, I…”
“Just getting all melty and dribbly and drooly," she cooed. "So hard to find all those big, hard words. But you’d never lose track of them, would you?"
“N... uh-uh,” he mumbled, cheeks burning. “I—flower, um—not a—”
“Hm?”
“You—Cora—the bee, um—”
“What? Me? What about me?” She giggled.
He whimpered in embarrassment. The words were there, he knew they were. They'd been there. But all he could think about was Cora's touch, Cora’s whispers, Cora's pretty breasts and delicate fingers...
“You’re—you changed—um—what you're.” He felt like he was swimming through deep, heavy waters to pull out each weighty word. “Saying.”
"Hm?" She tilted her head adorably to the side, smiling quizzically. "Well, then, if my argument contains inconsistencies, perhaps you had better expose them. Would you please explicate as to its errancy, Sir Lucent?"
Her breasts squished together. Jiggled.
“You... um…” His tongue fumbled. “Wrong…”
“Might you be able to speak with greater clarity," she supplied sweetly, "and more effectively elucidate your deeper meaning, if you were to avert your gaze from my bosom?”
“... huh?”
Bounce. Squish.
He… he knew what she'd said. He knew he knew it. But his mind felt all molten, his cock was throbbing…
His body was betraying him, and they both knew it.
Miss Cora giggled. “Maybe it’d be easier to explain,” she purred, “if you could look away from my nice, big, soft tits?”
She squeezed them slowly, kneading them. He moaned, bucking into air.
He saw her smile widen. She raised her hand, and his heart fluttered as he realized she was ab—
SNAP
He’d expected the snap to finally drop him into trance.
But to his horror, it instead snapped him out of it.
Clarity rushed back into Lucent’s head just as he realized he’d been missing it.
His head spun. Lucent looked at Coral with wide eyes, feeling his cheeks burning. “That's—you—”
“What's the matter, Sir Lucent?” Coral batted her eyelashes. “Something the matter?”
He sputtered, unable to bear her smug gaze “That. That is not any way to—to win a, um…"
“Hm?” Her smile seemed to widen. “Everything alright?”
“Um. Yeah.” He blinked rapidly. “Just... having some trouble, um…”
“Thinking?”
“I'm still.” He scowled at the table. “Still coming up a bit. Just. Give me a moment and I'll…”
“No~”
She took him by the chin, smiling sweetly, and tipped it downward.
Where her hand had once again lifted the bell to dangle in place above her cleavage.
Chime.
His lips parted. “N—No, I—”
“Drop,” she cooed.
* * *
SNAP.
Lucent's head snapped up. His head spun for a brief moment before he managed to right himself. He gave his whole body a little shake. “W—Nice try,” he snapped, squirming slightly. His cock was harder than ever. “Very cute, Cora. Fool me once.”
Cora gave him a strange smile. “Yes. Once.”
"You know that this doesn't prove..." He shook himself slightly, trying to shake off the daze. “Doesn't prove... anything. Just because I’m having trouble, um…”
“Speaking?” she supplied.
He squirmed.
“Hm. Well, I would think your conviction in your arguments could withstand a little teasing, don't you? If you were correct?” Her eyes pierced him through. “But if you’re losing an argument because you can’t help turning into some silly trancedrunk boy trapped by his own pleasure, because you can’t help letting that thing between your legs handle all the thinking for you… it probably means you’re simply wrong. And I’m right.”
He bit his lip, glaring at his hands. He couldn’t quite handle Cora’s eye contact right now. “I-I would be perfectly fine, if you didn't keep…”
“Prove me right, sweet boy.”
He blinked rapidly. More fog was suddenly filling his head again, so he gave it a little shake to clear it. “P-Prove you right?” Lucent managed a short laugh. His hand drifted to his lap and started to subtly rub. “I don't… know what that's supposed to mean.”
She giggled. Her eyes sparkled as if they held some hidden joke, which would have made him nervous if he didn’t know that was how she usually smiled at him. “Oh, I can't imagine! But really, haven’t you already? A clever boy like you should be able to withstand some light temptation. I mean, I wasn't even really trying.”
“We both know that's a... lie,” he mumbled, but he was having trouble putting any bite in his voice as his touches sent soft little buzzes of pleasure through his body. Fuck, it felt... so nice to touch. As long as Cora didn't notice.
Gods help him if she noticed. He… fuck, he needed to stop. Soon. Very soon.
Fortunately, Cora wasn't looking toward his lap at all. She was still smiling that strange smile. “Of course, Sir Lucent. If it makes you feel better to imagine that it's so very hard to take advantage of you.”
He panted slightly. She couldn't know the double meaning of her word, but his cock throbbed in recognition anyways. His hand fumbled with the belt buckle. "I—I mean, you’re… you’re the one who… h-had to resort to, um…”
"Temptation?" she offered, covering a laugh.
“T-Temptation…”
“Seduction?” Her hand slipped down to her chest, fingernails tracing down the collarbone.
“Uh… uh-huh.” His eyes followed her hand. Her breasts were so perfect—soft, pillowy teardrops with just the faintest dappling of freckles. So soft. So nice to pump his cock to, just staring into that cleavage…
His breath caught as her hand reached a breast and squeezed lightly. Lucent couldn’t help himself. He let his cock spring out to start pumping fully, and he—he supposed she might see if she looked now, might see it peeking over the table, but she—she wasn't looking, she had no idea he was pumping his cock, no idea he was hopelessly ogling her tits…
“Pleasure?” she whispered, slowly pulling her neckline down until her breasts were about to spill out. “Is that what I had to resort to? Is that what it took to utterly disable you, Sir Lucent?”
“Guh…” He stared dumbly. Pump. Pump. Prove her right...
“Why aren't you making any more arguments?” she cooed. She slowly squeezed her tits together. “Ready to admit defeat?”
"Buh..." He was drooling a little. Pumping faster. It was fine... she didn't notice, she didn't see, she didn't... oh, her tits jiggled so nicely… he couldn’t stop…
“Ready to prove me right?” she purred.
He panted. Prove her right…? That… no, really, he was the one taking advantage here. Enjoying the show... looking at her smug smirk, and yet she had no idea...
... no idea...
SNAP
Clarity came rushing back in. Lucent froze. His cheeks burned, and his hand flew away from his throbbing cock. “That—” He sputtered helplessly. “I—you—”
Cora’s face was alight with glee. “Oh my goodness,” she gushed, “you are just too close to adorable, my dear Sir Lucent. I'm afraid I can't tell what you're trying to argue anymore? Might you rephrase?”
Lucent blinked blearily. He wasn't all the way up. It was spiked clarity, free will laced with the hum of the previous two drops. He squirmed, trying not to look as he noticed her playing with the pendant again. “You're... I mean, this duh—doesn’t…”
“What? Doesn’t…?" She smiled sweetly. But her eyes were gleaming with hunger. "Sweet boy, I'm afraid you aren't making much sense. What happened to staying calm and rational? What happened to debating this with pure logic?”
“C-Cora,” he whispered. His cock twitched.
“Hm? Yes?” She tilted her head quizzically. Her lashes fluttered. “Is there something you want to tell me?"
“I…”
"Something you want to look deep, deep, deep into my eyes…” Flutter. Sparkle. “... and share with me?"
Lucent's breaths came in short. No, no, no...
Her eyes were… so pretty. She was always telling him that. Telling him how pretty and sparkling and lovely and deep and…
"... eeeasy to lose yourself in, aren't they?” Cora murmured. “You love my pretty eyes, don't you?”
“Y.” His breath caught. His head lolled slightly. “I. Um…”
SNAP “Up-up-up! No falling, now!”
Lucent reeled. He shook himself, blushing hot—
Coral lifted the bell, and its chime filled his head. “And drop~”
Lucent's head fell right back down. He stared dumbly at the bell, whimpering, trying to remember what he'd been...
SNAP “Up! Up, up, there's my good boy!”
“C-Cor—” He gave a wordless whine, face burning. “P-Please, I—” He felt so dizzy. “I, um—”
SNAP “Down, boy~”
He slumped back in his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cora smiling wickedly.
SNAP “Up~?”
He moaned. “I, um, um…”
Was… was he up? Down? He felt lie he was being spun in circles. Fucking… fractionation wasn't fair…
Cora rose in her seat, smiling, and cupped her breasts right in front of his face. “Be a good, good boy…” she cooed, squishing them together as he stared weakly, trying so hard to remember that he was Up, he was Up, he was—
“... and DROP~”
And Cora let her breasts fall...
down.
Lucent’s mind instantly plunged into thick, sweet syrup. He whimpered softly, but pleasure was everywhere, pleasure was submerging his drunken thoughts, and...
... Cora’s fingers brushed his cheek, and he nuzzled her hand, staring up at her with wide, needy eyes. Cora was so pretty. So... so in control...
“There we are!” Cora giggled. “Goodness, thinking just got a little bit too hard, didn't it, sweet boy?”
He licked his lips, blushing. Her eye contact was almost too much to bear, but her eyes were too pretty to bear looking away from. She was so pretty.
Her eyes held him close and wouldn’t let go. Every blink just made his thoughts swirl in confusion before returning to her comforting control. “And you know,” she purred, “that when thinking gets too hard...” Her hand slipped down, and he felt a fingertip delicately swirl around the head of his cock, “... it's time to let Miss Cora decide some things, isn’t it?”
Pleasure was drowning out his words. He babbled slightly, and something like a ‘yes’ muddled its way through the jumble. He bucked against the teasing fingertips of Miss Cora.
Miss Cora stroked his hair, smiling gently. “Good boy! Doesn't that feel sooo nice?”
"Y-Yes, Cora," he moaned happily, rubbing his head eagerly against her hand. "I... oh... n-nice..."
His words felt thick. Restricted. Like underwater exhales.
“And this feels so wonderful, doesn't it?” Her whispers seemed to fill his head with their sibilant echoes. “Letting me take control. Letting me touch you. Letting me win. Proving me right. You love this, don't you?”
“Uh—uh-huh!”
Cora smirked.
The petting stopped. Her hand pulled away.
He blinked, then whined needily.
“Hm?” Cora tilted her head innocently. “Whatever is the matter, sweet boy?”
“I—um…”
“Does my sweet boy want more?”
“P-Please…”
Cora went and sat back in her chair. Her legs crossed, and she rested her chin against the ball of her hand. “Hm. You know, you don't seem terribly rational or detached right now~”
“Please,” he moaned, slowly pumping. “I—ah—”
“You’re just my sweet, silly boy, aren't you?” She grinned, triumph gleaming in those beautiful green eyes. “Just my dumb, adorable boy.”
“Yes! Yes, I am! S-Silly!” His head bobbed. His whole world sloshed and swayed with the motion. “D-Dumb…”
“And you want more touches?” She licked her lips, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe... a kiss~?”
Lucent's breaths came in shallow.
His lips parted.
He could think of nothing he wanted more.
***
Fffuck.
Coral was getting a little carried away.
The bickering and sniping were normal. The hypnoflirting and occasional deep drops were just a part of how she punished her friend when he was being too much of a smartass.
But this time… Lucent was just...
She smiled, leaning over the table daringly. She pulled her shirt down, trying to tease even more of her neckline without quite undressing in the middle of the abandoned wing. “Yes?” she asked, filling her voice with mock-confusion. “You want more? You want a kiss?”
His own lips were parted and panting. He whimpered and nodded needily, and she could see how dizzy every motion was making him. It was achingly adorable.
Coral hadn’t ever planned to take things this far. Her heart was racing as she stared into Lucent's wide, glassy dark eyes. He looked utterly lost, utterly desperate.
She hadn't planned any of this.
But she... she needed more. Just a bit more.
She licked her lips. It felt too good to win like this.
To know she could win like this whenever she wanted.
“Imagine my lips on yours,” she whispered. She reached forward to touch the back of his head, and then she was petting his hair, guiding him to lean in close. They were both leaning over the table, inches apart. “You remember how soft they are. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“How supple my tongue~?”
“Y-Yes.”
Her breath came in ragged. “You love my kisses, don't you, silly boy?”
“Yes, Miss Cora,” he moaned. She saw him buck slightly into his hand. “L-Love your... kisses…”
“A dumb, silly kiss-addicted boy like you could never win an argument against me, could he?” She giggled. “I'm always going to be right.”
“You're right!” he whined. “Right, you're—you're always r-right—"
“Hush, sweetie.” She kissed him on the cheek, and his moan of pleasure at her touch made her heart thrum with the need to do it again. And again. And again. She could barely restrain herself. “No more words.”
She pulled back, still cupping his cheek, and smiled slyly. “You can just let me handle those for you now, okay?”
He nodded meekly, squirming. And only insensible babbling escaped him when she reached down and, with a wink, guided his hand out of his lap.
She took in a deep breath, savoring that needy, hopeless look on his handsome face. He was like a needy puppy.
She needed to indulge him more.
“Under the table, sweet boy~”
Coral leaned back and scooted back in her chair, watching as Lucent drowsily, dizzily sank from his seat and began to crawl. Her hand was squeezed between her thighs, trying very hard not to start touching.
He crawled up and nuzzled her knee, panting, his lips fumbling on the words.
She beamed down at him. “Good boy!” she cooed. “Gooood boy!” She stroked his hair. “You love being my good boy, don’t you? Love-love-love it~”
“Uh-huh!” He nodded eagerly.
“I'm right about bees and orchids, aren’t I~?”
“U-Uh-huh!”
“Oh, and yesterday’s argument about wildfires~?”
He whimpered, nodding faster.
“And…” She searched hungrily for more. “... and I was going to win this card game, too, wasn't I?” She stroked his hair, cupping his chin, forcing her blushing rival to meet her eyes.
His head bobbed stupidly as he babbled and whined.
She giggled and patted her lap. “Well, since you're being sooo good... Have a seat, Lucent.”
Lucent climbed up obediently into her lap and clung to her, wriggling. She knew the embarrassment was still in there, deep down. She never hypnotized him deep enough to totally quell it—no fun to win an argument if he didn’t know he’d lost, after all. But she’d taken him a lot deeper than she usually did.
She licked her lips. His body was pressed close to hers, and his scent was everywhere. His squirming, his helpless clinging... fuck, it was intoxicating. He was so cute.
“Good boy,” she whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “Good boy!”
She kissed him on the cheek. A cute, chaste peck.
She’d only been planning one kiss. But then she felt him shiver.
She pulled him in tighter and kissed him again on the cheek, wetter this time, significantly less chaste. She felt him tremble, and her own heart was fluttering, and she couldn't help herself.
She went in for a third kiss on the cheek.
And this time, her desperate, obedient, fully entranced and adoring boytoy of a rival impulsively turned to meet her lips with his.
A moan of startled pleasure broke from her as their lips collided. She didn’t have time to think. Their lips met, then parted, met, then parted, as their heads swayed from side to side to give greater access, to deepen the embrace. She was crying out softly, clutching him tighter. Her lips smacked against his, lewd moans and wet sounds filling the air. His lips were cool and wet and soft, and he tasted sweet...
His tongue slipped inside her. She moaned insensibly and clutched in desperation. All control was forgotten. Briefly it was just their lips pressing and pulling, sucking, licking, smacking, popping, tasting...
Cora broke away, panting for breath. Her head was spinning a little.
But it was nothing compared to the dumb, drooling smile Lucent had now.
She smiled dizzily, leaning in and kissing him again, deeper this time. Again she felt him return the kiss, and again fluttering sweetness clouded her thoughts. She clutched him hungrily. “Good boy,” she panted between kisses. “There's my good boy!”
Her hands took his and guided them to her waist, then up under her shirt to her breasts. “You—you like these, don't you~? You like letting them control you~? You wanna touch them~?"
Gods, she could feel his cheeks burning hotter.
And she could tell how deep the trance was, because with the depth and intensity of these kisses, she couldn’t imagine her hands having any kind of focus. All she could imagine doing was clinging, squeezing, but his hands—
His hands groped her breasts with trained expertise. He fondled, kneaded, flicked, squeezed. She panted. His tongue slipped inside her again as he gave one nipple a pinch, then squeezed both tits together, and she almost let out a squeal.
She broke the kiss, panting, almost drooling. It took her a moment to recover.
Her hand took the back of his head. “My tits control you,” she whispered, “and it’s always so easy. Such an adorable, weak-willed boy~”
He didn't even try to protest. She loved that. No matter how hard he resisted, once he was down, and he was hers. He let Cora push his head down with no resistance at all, and then he was nuzzling and kissing and worshiping her breasts as if they were all that mattered in the world, and she could have purred.
“G-Goood boy,” she managed, stroking his hair as he latched onto a nipple and lightly suckled. “Such a good boy for me!” Every word of praise made him tremble. She felt a thrill at how much control she had over his body right now. She needed more. “Take—take your words back, boy. Tell me…”
She pulled him out, cupped his chin, and forced eye contact. She managed a smirk.
“Tell me how wonderful I am,” she cooed. “Tell me how much you adore me. Speak, sweet boy~”
He shivered with the command.
His lips parted.
“Miss Cora,” he whispered. “Miss Cora, y-you're... beautiful…”
Cora smiled smugly. “And?”
He licked his lips, squirming in her lap. “Your... oh, Miss Cora, your wit dances around like trifold stars.”
Coral blinked.
“You see the world in so many colors I’ve never kn-known. Speaking to you is like listening to a prism as the light shatters through it.” He nuzzled her neck, voice soft and fluffy with pure, raw adoration. “And your voice… it t-twists and writhes like the breeze through windchimes.
Cora shifted slightly. This was a lot more. Eloquent. Than she’d...
“Your eyes are like the deep waters of your garden pond, sparkling as it does under the moon. And your hair…” He reached up and touched her hair, panting slightly. “Like… like the ocean at sunset…”
Cora’s cheeks were burning. Since when did she get all blushy like this? And since when did he—this—all this stupid flowery nonsense—
“And your radiant face…”
Coral could take it no more. She grabbed him by the hair. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
* * *
Lucent was lost to ecstasy. His mind was molten pleasure as he kissed Cora’s neck, delight tingling through him at every shiver, every moan, every cry he drew from her. He couldn't remember why he’d ever wanted to resist this. He was too cozy, too pleasure-drunk, too... dumb...
“Good boy,” he heard Cora coo, and if her voice trembled, all it told him was that her praise was true, that he was a good boy, that he was doing so, so well. “You like being good for me, don't you?"
“C-Cora,” he moaned, voice slurred.
Her own lips were on his neck now and her thigh slowly crept up between his legs. “N-Now, be good for me, Lucent.” Her lips brushed his ear as her voice dropped to the softest whisper, and it was like her voice was coming straight from his mind now. ”Show Miss Cora how good she makes you feel~”
As her soft thigh pressed against his hardness, Lucent cried out and started to hump. He kissed desperately, hungrily. He was hers, hers, hers, and all he could think about was...
“Obeying—ah—feels so good, d-doesn't it?”
“Y-Yes, Cora!”
She ground her leg against him, laughing softly. “Feels e-easy~?”
“Y-Yes!”
“This—nnf—this is how you belong, isn't it?” Miss Cora’s lips smacked against his neck, his throat, his cheek, moving with pure hunger. “G-Good, dumb boys like you need me to make a-all the decisions, don't they?”
He humped faster, mindless, broken, moaning his assent.
“G-Good boy!” he heard her mewl. “My good boy…”
“Y-Yours! Yoursyoursyours!”
He felt her shiver at that. “Mine,” she agreed softly. “Mine, mine, m-mine—faster, boy, hump faster, show me—sh-show me how good I make you feel—”
“S-So good,” he mewled. Faster. Faster. His cock was twitching, throbbing, leaking—
“P-Prove it!” she squealed. “Prove me right! Now! Nownownownow—”
She grabbed him and kissed him deep, and as the last pieces of awareness gave way, Lucent came. He bucked and thrashed and clutched at her as her tongue slipped inside to conquer him. She was moaning, too, and her pleasure just deepened his. He clung and ground his hips. He was lost.
He was... hers...
The orgasm sang through him. All control was gone. He bucked and humped until his strength failed him, writhed, trembled, moaned, and then… then all he could do was lie there in weak surrender as Miss Cora groped him, rocked him, kissed him without mercy, drawing it out longer, longer…
It was okay. Miss Cora knew what was best.
Miss Cora took care of him.
And Miss Cora was always right.
He wrapped his arms around her and let himself go limp. She clutched him tighter still.
“There’s... my good boy.”
Lucent nodded dreamily. He was fully lost to afterglow, and all he could think to do was nuzzle, cling.
“Such a good boy,” Cora giggled softly, stroking his hair. “My dear, darling Lucent.”
“Yours,” Lucent whispered. “My Cora’s…”
He was blushing hot. He could tell she was, too. But he couldn't... quite remember why. It just felt so good to lie there and cuddle his Cora.
The trance was fading. He could feel his awareness returning in the absence of lust, in the absence of her orders. But... it still felt nice to lie here with her.
Cora was soft. Cora was warm.
Lucent blinked sleepily. Cora… was...
He blinked again.
Slowly, he straightened and looked up at Coral. She smiled dreamily back at him.
Then awareness flickered in her eyes.
Her eyes widened, and she quickly averted his gaze. “Um—”
“Hha.” Lucent ducked his head, heart racing as he practically jumped off her her. “That's—that was bullshit.”
“Right.” She nodded quickly, then grinned. “I’ll bet you think so. You made it too easy. You looked right at it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Typical. You're losing an argument—”
“Ah-Ah. We both agreed I won.” She winked. “Remember?”
He snorted, moving to the other side of the table to collect his cards. “If you—if you need to cheat to win your arguments, I suppose it would be rude of me to deny you such rare ‘victories’.”
“Whatever makes you feel better, Sir Lucent.” She rose to her feet and curtsied teasingly. “I know you have to take your dignity wherever it can be salvaged.”
He huffed. “I don't know why I even put up with you.”
“Nobody else will let you beat them at Snapdragon, Sir Lucent.” Sworddaughter Coral glanced down at the cards and flashed him a grin. “Although you did forfeit this game, didn't you?”
Lucent laughed shortly and was about to issue a retort when something registered. ‘Forfeit.’
“Cora, aren't you supposed to be somewhere?”
Cora's head tilted slightly.
Her lips parted.
“Shit!” She grabbed her coat and took off running. “I’m supposed to be beating Clarke at swords right now!”
Lucent watched her leave. He noticed he had another dumb smile on his face for some reason, and he quickly dismissed it as he finished gathering up the cards. He'd join them at the courtyard in time to see Coral win—or at least to calm Clarke down in the aftermath. Almost nobody could beat his sort-of friend in the ring.
Or at most things, really.
* * *
“There they go.” Hennie rolled her eyes, watching as Sir Lucent scampered after Lady Coral down the hall. “They certainly took their time today.”
“Did you…” Tamelie leaned in, lowering her voice. “Did you see what they were doing?”
“No. And neither did you.” Hennie raised an eyebrow at Tamelie’s mop, left leaning against the wall nearby. “You should at least be pretending to clean. Isn't that why we came up here?”
Tamelie bit her lip and retrieved the mop, nodding sheepishly. “Yes, Hennie. But—but did you see her—”
“You're still new here, Tamelie.” Hennie winked, reaching over to pat the new hire’s cheek. Tamelie's cheeks reddened a little further. “You do get used to this from Their Lordships.”
“But—but is he...?”
“Oh, he's fine. Honestly, this happens every other week.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to the task. “Work here long enough and you'll discover the true scandal of those two knights, dear Tamelie.”
“What’s that?”
She grimaced. “It's that their dynamic is actually quite terribly wholesome at its core.”
She huffed, unable to conceal some disappointment. Then she snuck a glance at Tamelie, and noticed those cheeks were still flushed from the touch. A slight sly smile returned to her face as she considered that nobody would be coming up to this wing for quite some time.
“At least. Not by Rose Valley standards.”
Thank you so much for reading this commission! If you're looking for more writing like this, consider heading over to my Patreon and pledging a few dollars. It really helps me maintain a steady pace, and I post a ton of early and exclusive stories on there.