“I’m just saying, did it have to be so close to the Witching Hour?” Cinn muttered, eyes darting about the gloomy woods around them. His pointed elf ears flicked nervously as a barn owl shrieked in the distance.

 

“Ugh. Would you drop it?” Lin shot him a cross look. “Honestly, you are being such a minnow about this.”

 

“Yeah, Cinn.” Bitty giggled. “Quit being a minnow.” The witch kicked a pebble off the path and into the bushes. “It’s not the Witching Hour, anyways. That was, like, three hours ago?” She put a finger to her half-parting lips. “Or was it two? Gosh, what time is it?

 

“It’s three in the morning,” Ben said. He smirked at Cinn, an eyebrow arching. “Way past our nervous nester’s bedtime. Also, Witching Hour is at 11 o’ clock, Bitsy.”

 

Cinn flushed. “I-It’s three-thirty,” he said stubbornly, careful to keep his voice low, “and it’s bad luck to hunt fey so late regardless!”

 

“I thought Witching Hour was just before sunrise.” Lin frowned. The elven seductress glanced up at the full moon, just peeking through the leafless forest canopy. “You three don’t know a thing about—"

 

"All of you, be quiet." The voice of their leader rang out shockingly clear in the quiet forest, making Cinn flinch. Illetrys turned back to face them. The busty elf was dressed in a simple, practical pale dress, with slits cut up the legs to allow for easy mobility and a deep neckline to allow for easy ogling of her indulgent curves. Her long crimson hair stood out against her pale dress, even moreso against the gentle green tone of her skin. She smiled at Illecinn, who suddenly felt obliged to duck his head and examine his own feet. "Cinn, my dear cousin, do you have something you want to share?"

 

Cinn swallowed and tugged at his collar. He was dressed a little more formally than her, in a dark two-piece suit that blended in better against the darkness. "N-No, ma'am."

 

As an Ilestial, Illecinn had slightly more leeway to challenge Illetrys. Slightly. She’d still give him a pair of honey shoes if he crossed her.

 

"Good." The elven crime boss gave a bright, faux-innocent smile that made Cinn's skin crawl. "I brought you here to keep your enhancement spells up, not to remind us you're a little coward." She winked.

 

Cinn chewed his inner cheek as the others giggled, though Lin, at least, had the good grace to cover her mouth. She shot Cinn an apologetic look and a shrug.

 

"Ma'am," Ben said, apparently feeling that he had adequate cover now to make his own feelings known to their infamously tempestuous new boss, "ah, begging all pardons, of course, but why are we out at night?"

 

"The lamia has only been sighted at night, Kelleben." Trys smirked. "Why? Are you having trouble in this light?"

 

"Oh, I'll manage~" Ben tapped his nose slyly with one hand, as with the other he tapped the ground ahead with his cane and proceeded.

 

In theory, Bitty was supposed to be his guide so he could have both hands free for hypnosis, but Bitty seemed to be distracted by a moth fluttering at her lantern at the moment. Her big silver eyes widened as it flew at her, then went crossed as it landed on the tip of her pointy nose. Bitty was an especially gorgeous elfmaid, with thick, fluttering lashes and plump, kissable lips. Her chest was small, but her luscious, curvy hips more than made up for it. She was dressed in little more than a crop top and miniskirt, golden hair spilling down around her shoulders in flouncing curls that matched the bimbo’s bouncing footfalls.

 

"It's just," Ben went on, making Cinn wince at his daring and Lin smirk in anticipation, "well, it seems to me that a lamia that has only been sighted active at night would be much harder to capture, don't you think?"

 

Trys smiled brightly.

 

Don't you think. The words echoed after Ben's mouth shut like a trap, and the normally smug hypnotist gave a nervous smile as Trys took a step closer, playing with a long lock of scarlet hair.

 

"Don't I think?" Trys repeated sweetly. "Oh, do you think I do? I mean, goodness, you're so very clever, Benni, suggesting the day time, and here I am, blundering about in the dark like a blind bimbo!"

 

Ben squirmed, his normally smug smile dropping just a fraction. "W-Well, I only, um... I just..."

 

"Do you know," Trys went on, her voice rising to a sultry coo as she leaned in, reaching over to caress Ben's cheek, "what I think, Benni, sweetie?"

 

Her fingertips trailed down Ben's neck, and Cinn saw the hypnotist shifting from foot to foot, face visibly reddening even in the twilight.

 

"I think," Trys said, her smile sparkling, her voice as sweet as arsenic sugar, "we have a much better chance finding a single lamia when she is awake and moving around outside her magically-concealed den than finding her when she is sleeping and, ah... not."

 

Ben nodded quickly. "Y-You, ah, make an excellent point, Madam."

 

"Aww, you think so?" In an instant, Trys's voice lost its venom and was now pure sweet dripping honey. She took Ben's hand and guided it to her chest, lashes fluttering as her fingertips continued to glide up and down Ben's neck. "That's so nice of you. Here, give a little squeeze~"

 

Ben hesitated, then reluctantly squeezed Trys's breast. Cinn tried not to dwell on how easily Ben was giving in, knowing that that was exactly what Trys wanted. He saw Bitty staring openly, of course, lips parted in dumb wonder.

 

"How's it feel, sweetie?" Trys purred.

 

"s... soft." Ben's voice was very small.

 

"Would you have found it as easy to find your way to groping my tits like a cute needy titslave," Trys sighed, leaning in to purr in his ear, "if I'd stayed over there and let you stumble over to me?"

 

"n-no, Madam."

 

She gave his cheek a pat. "Good boy." She twirled around, and everyone quickly looked away as if they'd not even noticed the display. "Now then!" she chirped, as if nothing had happened. "Let's go catch a little snake~"

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Cinn wasn't a huge fan of the new boss.

 

He and Lin had been with the Celestials for a long time. They weren't friends, exactly, but they understood each other as fellow mages. Ben and Bitty, though, they'd only shown up over the last year or so. They hadn't spent a lot of time with Cellesixe, and they didn't understand just what a disaster Illetrys's little takeover had been for the whole organization.

 

Neither of them ever complained, of course. Trys had made sure of that, with plentiful attention paid to all of the 'veteran' employees and Celestial family members. Cinn’s colleagues had spent plenty of time staring at those hypnotic tits of hers to make sure nobody would ever challenge her.

 

Even though she was leading them all to ruin.

 

Hunting fey had once been a sometimes-mission. Like that hullabaloo with the muse sprite. Now it seemed like every week they were working to grow the Celestials' collections of exotic playthings.

 

They'd been walking through the woods for close to twenty minutes now, surrounded on all sides by tall, shapeless shadows and the growls and hisses that characterized the Greatest, Darkest Forest after dark.

 

Cinn didn't care much for feycatching at the best of times. It was in bad taste. It was one thing to catch the odd lust sprite or five, but lamias...

 

"Ooh, hey, look at that!" Everybody turned. Bitty was staring at something on the ground, bending over at a nearly 90-degree angle to example it closer. Behind her, Lin smirked and put a finger to her lips, admiring the view under Bitty's miniskirt.

 

"What is it?" Cinn asked, hurrying over.

 

"Looks like tracks!" Bitty said excitedly, pointing to a long line of crushed grass and foliage bisecting the path.

 

"Snake tracks." Lin patted Bitty on the head. Bitty squeaked and giggled shyly. "Very good, Bitsy."

 

"Excellent." Trys licked her lips and smiled. "Then they're near here."

 

"Umm, it's not just snake tracks, I think, Miss," Bitty said after a pause. She crouched down, frowning. Her fingers grazed through the dirt and grass. "There's... um, like, magic here and stuff."

 

"What do you mean, dear?" Ben asked, crouching down to smile at Bitty.

 

Bitty bit her lip. "I dunno. It's just, like... loud here. I think they cast a spell here or something."

 

"Or something?" Cinn swallowed, his eyes darting around the darkened woods. In fey magic, 'or something' could be code for 'just about anything'. He hoped Bitty knew that.

 

"Why don't you examine it, Bitty, sweetie"?" Trys suggested sweetly, bending down to pet Bitty's hair. The elven wizardess giggled and squirmed, face reddening, clearly enjoying all the attention she was suddenly giving. "Can you do that for me?"

 

"Ooh, um... yeah, yeah, I think so." Bitty pouted, then closed her eyes and set the lantern down. Her eyes glowed. She started sketching patterns in the air, tracing shapes only she could see.

 

Everyone except Cinn took a step back.

 

Magic released from her in sparking, crackling torrents with a sound like a wave striking the cliffs. The magic flashed sunset-pink, robin's egg blue, and a pallid bone white, rising and falling and crackling like a telemancer’s static as it formed several overlapping rings around her. The rings arced in all directions as if Bitty had become her own miniature solar system.

 

Cinn watched uneasily, occasionally checking that the others were accounted for, that nothing was taking advantage of the distraction to sneak up on them. Something was a little off about the magic, but, well, Bitte's magics seemed a little different every time she used them. Cinn had no idea where she'd learned her craft, but it wasn't any Mage Tower, that was for sure.

 

Still, he tasted something acrid and biting on his tongue—ozone, maybe—when he breathed in.

 

"Everything alright, dear?" Trys asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

 

"F-Fine!" Bitty bit her lip, visibly struggling to hold the spell together as her arms spread wide on either side of ehr. Then her posture seemed to relax, and the light died down to a dim, steady pulsing. "I think this is, like, the catalyst for her den, Miss!"

 

"Meaning?"

 

"It's, like... like the, um..." The mage's cute face screwed up in concentration. Even with the magic relaxed, she was still clearly focused on keeping it running as therings twirled around her.

 

Cinn cleared his throat, not wanting Bitty to hurt herself thinking too hard about how to explain it. "It's the door," he said to Trys. "A mage like Bitte might be able to, um, open it. Sort of like cracking a safe."

 

"Ah. Obviously." Trys nodded knowingly, smiling now.

 

They were all mages here, technically, but Cinn was the only person who'd been formally educated, and he and Bitte were the only ones who knew much of anything about magical studies. He had to try very hard not to make his distant cousin feel uninformed. Illetrys didn't enjoy being talked down to.

 

"So," Trys said slowly, "how long will this take? Can we get in there and lay a trap for her?"

 

"U-Uh-huh!" Bitty nodded weakly. "J-Just gotta, um... figure out how she made this magic happen so I can convince it, umm... to happen for us!"

 

"How long?"

 

Bitty giggled. "Umm... ten minutes, maybe. A half-hour, tops."

 

Cinn chewed on his nails and scanned the shadowy woods around them.

 

"Let's aim on the lower end of that," he said uneasily.

 

"What's the matter, Cinn?" Ben teased. "You still jumpy?"

 

"As a bunny!" Bitty chirped.

 

"It's just..." Cinn swallowed, cheeks going red. "You never know who might be watching out here."

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Forty-five minutes passed in quiet conversation. There was no reason to keep searching now, after all, with the lamia’s lair found—they could unlock the ‘door’ and come back in the morning for an easy catch. At least, that was what Cinn was desperately hoping.

 

"We could always come back tomorrow," Cinn said, starting and looking over as an owl hooted from the shadowy forest canopy. "Now that we know where she is..."

 

"Oh, would you stop fussing?" Trys rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it's hard to believe we're related. The night’s still young and I don’t plan to waste it.”

 

Bitty yawned. "Yeah, like... I'm almost done here, Cinn, I bet. Quit being so... I..." She trailed off, her eyes unblinking and unfocused. She'd not been talking much the last ten minutes, Cinn had noticed, and hadn't finished a lot of sentences, either.

 

"I just think—" Cinn jumped, hearing something snap from off in the bushes."What was that?"

 

"What was what?" Lin looked up idly from reapplying her nail polish. She blew on her nails with fulsome, pouty lips.

 

"I-I heard a... a noise out there." Cinn pointed, taking a step back. "We should ready, just in case."

 

"A noise?" Ben's head tilted to the side as he got to his feet. "You mean the wind rustling the branches?"

 

"N-No," Cinn snapped, cheeks heating up, "like..."

 

"You mean the frog?" Lin suggested, patting Cin's shoulder with a smirk. "I hear him too. Sounds like a real menace."

 

"I-It sounded like a twig snapping!" Cinn rolled his eyes. "Look, someone should at least—"

 

"Aw, don't worry, Cinn." Bitty giggled coquettishly, swishing from side to side in her miniskirt. "I'll protect you from the, um... mm..."

 

Cinn turned to Trys, indignation warring with nerves. He had a bad feeling right now. It wasn't just the twig—the very frog Ben was speaking of had just gone silent. He was only just noticing that the chirps and hoots and whistles of the forest after dark had gradually dropped away. "Ma'am, with all due respect—"

 

"Cinn." Trys looked distinctly bored. "If you're so worried, go and check yourself."

 

Cinn swallowed, shifting from foot to foot.

 

Lin let out a sigh. "Okay, that's it. I'll go." She climbed to her feet and clapped a hand on Ben's shoulder. "C'mon, Kelestial. Let's give it a quick look."

 

Cinn shot her a grateful look as she and Kelleben passed. She returned a shrug in turn. The pair ventured off into the dim light just outside the brightest reach of the lamp's light, Ben grumbling all the way.

 

"Goshhh," Bitty said idly, her tongue thrusting into the side of her cheek and her voice reverberating with excitement at a thought, "what if… liiike… sssexy frog-girlll...”

 

Cinn turned back to her, exasperated. "We aren't here to get two fey. We're just here for a lamia. Don't go talking about making more enemies when we've already got plenty to handle."

 

"Oh, please, dear." Trys sighed. "It's one lamia. You are far too on-edge about it."

 

"Something's not right tonight. He chewed his upper lip, turning back to where Lin and Ben had disappeare to. He litched to call out to them, but yelling didn't feel like a smart idea right now. "This lamia's been behaving oddly. We don't know what type she is. Doesn't that worry you, cousin?"

 

Cinn had the unusual honor of being allowed to very, very gently criticize Trys, thanks to their relation. This was a dubious honor because it also made him a prime target for simply being disposed of if he wasn’t of course.

 

Trys didn't respond, so he went quiet, too, not wanting to press his luck. His eyes narrowed. "They're taking too long," he said softly, turning back around.

 

His heart plunged right into his gut when he saw that Bitty, arms outstretched, staring off into space, now stood alone.

 

Trys was gone.

 

"Ma'am? Illetrys?" Cinn looked around, his heart racing. The forest shadows pressed in all around him, any one potentially host to a wide variety of perils that appeared in his mind right now.

 

"Bitte," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "did you see where she went?"

 

 

"Bitte?" Cinn turned back to face the adeptress.

 

"... ssseeee..." Bitte was slurring, her eyes heavy-lidded and blazing with blue light. "wwhheere...."

 

"Cancel the spell, Celestial!" CInn's tone got a little sharper—and louder—than he meant it to. He flushed and lowered his voice. "Cancel it, Bitte! We have a situa—"

 

"sssheeee.... weeeent...."

 

Cinn stopped short. He stared at Bitte as her wole form vibrated with eldritch power.

 

Something was wrong.

 

In a flash of motion, Cinn summoned his own magic to bear, hissing out words and sounds that did not truly exist and reaching towards Bitte. Pulsing blue light dripped from his mouth like vaporous drool, coalescing around his hand as he drew the patterns to reveal any magical interference at play.

 

For an instant, Bitte's whole form was wreathed in blue vapor. Cinn stared at her for a solid moment as she let out a soft sigh.

 

Then he turned and took off running into the woods.

 

This is bad, he thought to himself, heart pounding like a scared rabbit's. Catastrophically, abysmally, abyssally bad.

 

He kept his eyes trained on the fine thread as his blue mist continued to trail along it, illuminating it for him—and marking his path in case the thread was broken.

 

That invisible magical thread trailed back behind him, where it was wound around Bitte's form as tight as a caterpillar in its cocoon.

 

The trace Bitte had found was not a catalyst. It was a snare.

 

We aren't the hunters here, Cinn thought, eyes wide as he mentally ran over all the spells he could cast—offensively, his rogue's gallery was shamelessly bare, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve for a pinch, and this was definitely a pinch. We're the—

 

His foot caught on something smooth and sinuous.

 

Cinn was sent tumbling into darkness.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Lin and Ben made their way through the shadowy maze of brush and bramble, careful to make as little noise as possible as they went to investigate what Lin was fairly certain was a small frog.

 

"Eager to get me alone, Lin?" Ben murmured with a sly smile, brushing a lock of hair back from his face as he crept under a low-hanging branch.

 

Lin smirked, filling her voice with sweet innocence. "Aww, Benni, I just knew you needed some time off after that cute little scene you made with Trys. Gosh, I thought you were gonna faint!"

 

Ben's face went a little pink, but he just reached over towards her, his soft, delicate hands brushing along her arm. Lin flinched back with a sputter, and he chuckled. "Oh? Did you enjoy the show, sweetness?"

 

Lin was very glad Ben couldn't see her face going even redder than his. She didn't flinch again as his hand extended again to touch her arm, and she let his fingers graze over her skin.

 

In the darkness, just out of sight of the group, there was a heady intimacy to the moment. Gods, watching Trys toy with Ben had been an unbearable tease, and then having to watch cute ditzy Bitsy go under her own magic's thrall like that...

 

"You feel cold," Ben purred, his handsome face wreathed in flickering shadows in the dim light cast by the distant torches. His fingers traced up her arm. "Would you like to warm up a little before we head back, sweet girl?"

 

"Mm..." Lin squirmed slightly, letting him take another step closer.

 

Then she reached out, and in one smooth, delicate motion, her hand slid right down the front of his trousers.

 

Ben went stiff. In more ways than one, Lin noticed, and she giggled.

 

"Aw, gosh, Benni," she cooed, leaning in close as his touches towards her breast became decidedly less focused. Her lips grazed his cheek as she whispered in his ear, "I guess I just love seeing you melt like that." She gave him a little squeeze.

 

She and Ben were each still for a moment.

 

Then then pulled back at the same time, Ben with a sly smile, Lin with a light laugh.

 

"One of these days, Isalin," Ben said sweetly, tapping his cane against a root. "When we're not hunting snakes."

 

"Oh, I'm sure I could multitask snaring you and a serpent."

 

"Really, you—" Ben stiffened. His head shot up and tilted to the side. "Did you..."

 

At that exact moment, Lin caught a glimpse of something in the treetops up above. A large, red, serpentine form, disappearing just out of sight.

 

“Lamia,” she murmured, grabbing his arm and pointing. “That way.”

 

“Don’t be silly.” Ben pulled away and gestured in the opposite direction. “It’s this way.”

 

“Um, I know what I saw, Benni. And I didn’t hear anything over there.”

 

“Oho, you don’t say? Sighted folk are as deaf as cuttlefish.”

 

“You are literally blind. And without your seeing-eye-Bitty, too.”

 

“I know what I heard. Something’s slithering to the south. How did you not hear that? It was loud as a catgirl’s climax.”

 

“I saw her to the north. Plain as day.”

 

“You’d trust your sight over my hearing?

 

“Would I trust my own eyes? Yes, nitwit. I saw what I saw. I’d bet my heart and soul on it.”

 

“How about ten silver instead?”

 

“You’re on. Don’t go far, little Benni. Me and my pet lamia will come find you in a minute or two.” Lin twirled on her heel, glaring defiantly ahead as she strode away from Ben. She heard Ben’s cane tapping in the opposite direction.

 

She couldn’t wait to put that idiot hypnotist in his place.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Ten minutes later found Lin sauntering down the narrow forest trail, eyes narrowed in the increasingly scant light afforded her by the light through the trees. She could still hear it—that faint hissing from just up ahead—and her heart raced with anticipation.

 

Not with worry, of course. She smirked as the thought of being worried crossed her mind. She'd ensnared lamias before. They tended to be quite easy—so used to their silly hypno-eyes being enough to hypnotize someone, they didn't even know how to react when she started taking control. Slithering sluts, the lot of them—and they were soon slobbering over her, just like everyone was once she'd had her way with them.

 

No, her heart raced with the thought of getting to show off her prize to the others. Under Trys's leadership, the Celestials were all about competition, about showing off one's individual talents. Isalin thrived under such a system.

 

She giggled. 'Under Trys's leadership'. Maybe for now, but in a few months... she licked her lips and rubbed her legs together faintly as she walked, imagining. She wouldn't be the one 'under' for long.

 

"All alone, are we?" called out a soft, feminine voice from the darkness.

 

Lin stopped in her tracks. She still didn't feel worried, but she had been a bit startled. I could have sworn she was still another few yards off that way, she thought to herself petulantly, as she turned toward the source of the voice. "Hi there," she called back, smiling sweetly into the gloom. "Are you shy, sweetie?"

 

A sibilant laugh met these words, making Lin's smile only widen. Oh, good. A confident one. Those were sosssweet," purred the voice, closer this time. clearer. "Only... curiousss."

 

"Oh?" Lin struck a little pose, stretching her arms above her head as her hips thrust out to one side. Her lashes fluttered. "What's your name, sweetie?"

 

"My name is Celessste," cooed the sensuous voice with a soft little laugh.

 

"Aw, what a cute name!" Lin smirked, thrusting her hips out to the other side. "See anything you like, Celeste?"

 

She had to admit, she was increasingly glad she'd ditched the group. This lamia, 'Celeste'', her voice... unconsciously, Lin licked her lips. She was getting excited to reel the catch in. Unfortunately for Celeste, what the lamia didn't know was that Lin was bait, hook, line and sinker.

 

"Oh, I think I do," murmured Celeste from the darkness, and Lin could hear that sly smile, the way those no-doubt fulsome lips seemed to savor every word. "Does that excite you?"

 

Lin scoffed. "Aw, sweetie, I'm used to it."

 

"Oh, of course you mussst be~"

 

Lin raised an eyebrow. There was a smugness to that line delivery that she wasn't sure she cared for. She tossed her head airily. "Oh, I just mean, I've played with lamias before. Not a lot of them are really able to please me."

 

There was a pause. Lin hid her grin. And that's the bait.

 

"Oh?" Celeste sounded even more amused. "Is that sssooo?"

 

"No offense or anything." Lin gave a bratty smirk. "I'm just, well, pretty used to girls doing whatever they can to please me. I'm sure you're nnn-nn-nn-nice..."

 

Her voice cut into a gasping near-moan as something long and sinuous suddenly slipped around her neck like a collar, stroking delicately, daintily under her chin. The lamia's tail, she realized, biting her lip. The tip of it.

 

"Oh?" Celeste's voice oozed with smugness now. "Do we like that, my sssweet?"

 

"I... I, um..." Lin flinched as the tail slipped away, leaving her neck bare once more. "It... was okay, I guess..."

 

"Oh? Was it, now?" The voice dripped seductive, knowing charm. The tail tip reemerged, this time from a different direction, and Lin bit her lip to withhold a gasp as its brilliant crimson length slipped around her wrist, slithered up her arm in spiraling coils of deep red temptation. "Aren't I sssooo warm?"

 

"Mmm... yes..." Lin found herself smiling dreamily as the coils released her again, the tip trailing along her bare midriff as it made its departure. She reached up and played idly with a lock of her hair, pouting seductively. "Maybe you better come here, and... make me feel even better~"

 

"Maybe I should. Maybe I shall." The voice rang with laughter as it seemed to circle around Lin. Lin's heart fluttered with anticipation, and idly, she reached up and adjusted her neckline, allowing her dress to slip down over one shoulder, to show off bare, flawless skin. "Would you like that, sssweetie?"

 

"Maybe I would." Lin twirled her finger around the lock, smiling coyly. "Maybe I shall."

 

"Ohh~" Celeste's voice was rimed with hissing laughter like the first winter frost. "You're playing quite the little tease, aren't you?"

 

"Playing?" Lin smirked, and giggled innocently, wiggling her hips enticingly. No fey could resist this. no fey could ever resist her. She'd delivered the line—now for the hook. "Do you think I'm only pretending, honey?"

 

"Oh, sssweet thing... I know you are!" Celeste's purr was almost right in Lin's ear, and Lin spun around, momentarily disoriented—but there was nothing there but darkness.

 

Recovering herself, Lin licked her lips and again adjusted her dress—this time tightening the laces so her ample breasts were positively straining against the sheer fabric. "And why might—"

 

She gasped and shivered. The tail had returned while her back was turned, and it was stroking ever-so-delicately down the center of her back, sending delectable tingles all up and down her spine as it descended toward the small of her back.

 

It moved slowly. So slowly it was almost unbearable—so slowly she forgot what she'd been saying a moment ago. So slowly she forgot herself entirely, in fact.

 

For a moment, she thought it would stroke even lower, and she found herself thrusting her ass instinctively backward, biting her lip to hold in a shallow whine—

 

But the tail retreated, and flushed-faced, she spun around in time to watch it slip into the shadows. "W-Why—" she stammered, trying to remember what she'd been saying, trying to play it cool.

 

"Well, you sssee," Celeste said sweetly, "horny little ssslutsss... oh, they always play the tease, don't they?"

 

Her voice was so confident, so sure of itself, Lin almost nodded along without thinking. Then she registered the meaning, and she concealed an indignant scowl behind a flirty smile. "Aww, that's cute!" she exclaimed, kicking one foot back. "You'd love that, huh?"

 

"Oh, sssweetie, I'll adore it~"

 

Lin smirked, tossing her dark henna-brown hair back over her shoulder once more. "It's cute you think so," she said sweetly, swinging her hips from side to side. And now for the hook. "Why don't you come and prove it?"

 

She heard Celeste laugh again—and realized that this time it was from right over her shoulder. She spun around—

 

—and found herself gazing up into the biggest, prettiest, swirliest green-and-blue-and-yellow eyes she'd ever seen.

 

And Celeste smiled. "Very well, then."

 

Lin stared into the spirals, her lips parting. A soft moan escaped her. She swayed forward as the spirals seemed to sink inward, then backward as the spirals seemed to spill out.

 

"Well?" Celeste giggled, her gorgeous coral-red face splitting into a wide, amused grin. Long, flowing crimson locks drifted around her head, spilling down her shoulders like rolling waves. She reached forward and tucked a finger under Lin's lip to wipe away a bit of drool, her smile as bright as the moon—but pale next to the twin suns of her gaze. "Aren't you going to tease me sssome more, sssweetie>?"

 

Lin let out a soft, helpless moan.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Bitte was working up a bit of a sweat at this point.

 

The elven wizardess panted as she wove her fingers in patterns unending. This spell was proving... a lot trickier than she'd thought it was. Just when she thought she'd found every thread, every wisp of magic, it seemed another one would slip from her grasp, or appear from thin air.

 

She had to weave it all in the right shape, the right idea. She bit her lip. Then they'd be able to break into the lamia's den and set a trap. And then maybe Miss Illetrys would be pleased with her. Maybe she'd even take out her breasts and bounce them and bounce them until Bitte was just her hot dumb little titsla...

 

Bitte swallowed. Focus, Ditzy Bitsy! she scolded herself. You have to focus on this. If you don't concentrate now, it'll be all for nothing.

 

Even so, her brow furrowed and cheeks reddened as the threads twisted and twined around her. She almost thought she heard voices... but they weren't Trys's voice. Gods ,this almost seemed... a lot harder than it should have been. Fey had a sort of knack for their own kind of magic, but fthis spell was fiendishly clever. It didn't even feel like a normal dimensional catalyst. Not that magic really had rules—she giggled, and almost let a few more wisps slip out, and had to tighten her mental grip until her head spun—especially not when fey were involved. Rules were things made up by people way smarter and way dumber than her.

 

She giggled again, this time for a different treason. All the magical threads were... were quite a lot to handle. Her 'hands' were already full, and yet still magic poured from the sleep she was analyzing, still magic swirled around her, stroked over her skin, her essence.

 

Her cheeks went bralittle bhot. It... kind of tickled.

 

She swallowed and tried to concentrate. She just had to get everything in her grip. Then she could start drawing up... ooh, wait, there was another thread, twisting and twirling off away from her.

 

Her lashes fluttered, but couldn't quite settle down into closing her eyes. And there was... another! She giggled as it brushed along her neck and reached out for it.

 

There's so many, she thought dizzily, looking around at the numerous twisting, swirling strands of witchcraft and dweomerwork. So... many...um, magics...

 

Every time she realizeched out for one, two more slipped from her grasp. Bitte was starting to realize that she didn't quite have control here. That should have worried her.

 

It probably would have worried her more if this was a serious spell. She giggled and squirmed as she felt the strands of magic caressing her hips, luscious and firm, so delicate and affectionate. But this was a fey spell. Fey spells were harmless. Fun. Sensual.

 

She shivered as the strands ran over her arms and under them, along her sides. They were getting more and more numerous, and she realized with a dim feeling of guilt that she was, um... kind of letting even more slip from her grasp now.

 

She was starting to feel tired. Even as she thought it, her lashes fluttered lower still. But she forced herself to fight it, forced herself to reach out, to capture more errant strands. It was a losing fight.

 

So many... Her whole world felt dreamlike as she spun in a slow, meandering circle, watching the strands and threads bob and twist and twirl around her like little pinwheels, like delicate jellyfish, glowing pink and blue and white and... and...

 

Her head was getting all swimmy. She giggled. Swimmy's not a word, silly! Maybe dreamy. Or foggy. Or... or...

 

She swayed, only to gasp as she felt one of the tendrils—suddenly a bit ropier, a bit thicker, as if the threads were twisting and twining together—slipped between her legs and caressed her inner thigh. "Ooh!" She giggled and wiggled her hips, enjoying the sensation despite her better instincts. "Ooh, that's, um.. that's..."

 

Her head spun as she stared dreamily at the strands slipping from her loosening fingers, the threads of magic twirling and twisting together before her eyes into... into ropes. Cables. Tendrils of pure color.

 

"... pretty," she breathed, gasping again—but not quite ustering a protest this time—as the tendrils stroked between her legs a little higher up.

 

The tendrils of magic were getting more mischievous, more forward, more aggressive. Bitsy tried to grasp at them, but more just kept appearing, and she was getting so dizzy.

 

Why asm I... so tired? she wondered, and giggled stupidly as she felt the tendrils playing with her pink crop top, making her breasts bounce and squish. Gosh, there were so many tendrils now...

 

Fuzzily, she kind of wondered why nobody was interfering. She wasn't sure how... oh, yes, of course. It was contained. Who knew how much of this was visual to the outside world?

 

The thought made her heart flutter with excitement, and she found herself wiggling wantonly, bouncing on her tippy-toes as her breasts were fondled. the thought that nobody could see her... that nobody had to know if she took a little itsy-bitsy break...

 

... the thought that maybe they could, and they could see what a hot little slut she was acting like...

 

She giggled and bit her lip and moaned softly, keening and bucking as the tendrils stroked along her panities. "Nn-nuh," she whined, unconvincing even to herself as she felt her top being tugged away from her. She knew she needed to get control, but... but gosh, she felt so sleepy and drained... like she'd been acasting all night...

 

Oh! She blinked, then, suddenly snapping out of the spell as her scattered, ditzy brain finally hit on the truth. It's my magic, huh?

 

The thought made sense as soon as she had it—and yet all thoughts felt so distant, as more wisps of magic started to appear around her, as her breasts bounced free—so pretty in her cute lacy bra, even though she'd always wished they could be bigger, rounder...

 

It's... my magic, she thought fuzzily, as she lifted her arms obediently for the shirt to be slipped off of her hot, captive cobody. She wriggled as the tendrils of magic extended towards her, stroking her breasts through the sheer fabric, slithering between her legs like tentacles and teasing up her inner thighs... It... it's an Ouroboros Effect. Lures you into casting, then... keeps you... generating the magic for it… generating the magic for your own brainwashing…

 

"ooooh," she cooed, giggling happily as her skirt started to slide up, as the tendrils started to wrap around her midriff... "th-that's... that's, um... nn-nice, but... but..."

 

And still the awareness rattled in its cage in her head. She was being hypnotized. Brainwashed. Seduced.

 

And even worse, she thought, heart starting to race as the distant realization took hold, she was being seduced by her own magic.

 

"S-Stop," she commanded weakly, grinding her hips and quivering with lust, with embarrassment, with embarrassed lust. "I—I am—like—oooh...."

 

Her words melted into a humiliated mewl of pleasure as she felt the tendrils squeezing and fondling her breasts, sending pleasurable thrills of enchanted pleasure into her with their every touch. Stroking along her panties with a merciless glee. Slitheriong possessively around her neck, where... where a collar might go...

 

Nobody saw what was happening, she realized in dawning fear. Nobody knew she was... she rubbed her legs together, trying to keep the tentacles out no matter how desperately she wanted their ethereal touches beneath her lingerie. This was in her head. Or if it wasn't, nobody was watching closely enough to see her weak muted reactions.

 

Nobody would know she was being brainwashed until she already had been.

 

The thought made her shiver in excitement, which made her even more humiliated, which made her even... wetter. No. No. She needed to fight this. Needed to resist.

 

No matter how good it felt not to.

 

Focus, Bitsy! she thought urgently. She needed to focus on speaking aloud—actually aloud, not in this liminal dreamworld. And she had to be loud. Her head was swimming with the exertion of all this spellcasting, but she opened her mouth, ready to let out as strong a cry for help as she could—

 

 

Bitte's eyes widened to the size of starry heart-painted saucers as one of the tendrils slid into her mouth. She instinctively tried to close her mouth, but too late—it slid past her lips as slippery as a ghost.

 

"MMMFF!" she moaned against the tentacle gag, eyes wide, twisting and bucking as she suddenly realized the tendrils were totally wrapped around her lower section and were starting on trapping her arms. "MMMMFFF!!!" The sensation of having a tendril of pure magic was... was...

 

Her lashes fluttered. Her protests started to diminish into whimpers, and her struggles were getting less and less convincing by the moment.

 

It felt... sooo good. Her lips, still locked around the half-ghostly appendage, remained soi as it slid back and forth. in and out. It was so vibrant, so tingly, so soft and yet firm and... in and out and in and out and in and out...

 

"Mmmmnn...," she moaned, humiliated. The tendril was taking another form as it wrapped around her head. The form of a strangely sweet ballgag. Oh, gods, was she actually creating this in the real world? Creation of matter was insanely draining, she couldn't, she... mustn't...

 

"mmmnsssntt," she moaned into the gag, gyrating her hips as she felt those tendrils teasing along her ass. So tingly and delicate and... and...

 

She knew she was supposed to fight. Her whole vision was filling with pink mist as she finally looked up from the swirling patterns to gaze at the dark forest around her. This wasn't a lamia spell. Too advanced. A hag, maybe. Or a witch. Or a... a...

 

She gasped as the tentacles slid in deeper, and smelled maple syrup in the air.

 

Oh, that wasn't good. Her brow furrowed in concentration. A demon could be real trouble, especially if nobody else realized yet. Her crew was a bunch of ditzes, and she was the smart one. If they thought they were hunting for a fey...

 

Bitte had to escape, she knew. She had to make a plan. She had to... to maybe play brainwashed, wait for the demon to come to her, and then...

 

She blinked slowly. And... then...

 

The tendrils of magic had begun to probe around her pointy elven ears.

 

And... then... Her heart was starting to flutter. Um, what... what's...

 

Her magic had sensed her planning, of course. It was her magic. It knew her better than anyone. But... but what was it...

 

Bitte frowned.

 

And then her eyes widened as the wispy tendrils of magic... slid inside.

 

"MMMMMM!!!" she squealed into the gag, feeling the strangest sensation as the magic flooded her ears like... like... there was no comparison she could dream of.

 

Except, perhaps, music.

 

For a split-second, as the magic slipped inside, Bitte was totally motionless, frozen in shock, in horror, in confusion.

 

And then the magical tendrils reached their target, and Bitte's knees buckled beneath her.

 

The tentacle left her mouth, no longer needed. Her lips remained parted, however.

 

"Whuh..." She stared into emptiness as swirling vibrating hearts clouded her vision.

 

The tentacles had slid right into her open mind and begun to vibrate. To pulse. To slip out, and in again. As delicate as ghosts and as intense as... as...

 

Oh, gods, she thought, trembling, they're... they're fucking my ears. I have to

 

No sooner had the thought appeared then the tentacles pounded in, and it was gone.

 

 

The tentacles slid out and poured in again. She mewled and quivered, falling to her hands and knees and rocking back and forth like a catgirl in heat waiting to be mounted. "A-Aah!" she cried, thrashing her head helplessly as she felt

 

her brains

 

being fucked

 

away

 

"W-What's happening to me?" she whispered aloud, not daring to keep her thoughts silent, for fear they'd be

 

 

 

 

 

She was drooling, she realized, as the tendrils wrapped around her legs and began to pull them apart, as if her position—on her hands and knees in a miniskirt letting herself be earfucked by her own hijacked magic—wasn't degrading enough.

 

"G-Gotta fight," she whimpered, barely understanding the meaning of her own words as they oozed from her plump, parted lips. "Gotta..."

 

 

The voice slid into place in her mind as easily as if it berlonfed there. Bitsy went quiet as a mouse.

 

Aside from the uncontrollable whimpers and moans as she felt her eyes crossing, then rolling up into her head, her tongue lolling as the tentacles fucked her... fucked her...

 

You're enjoying this, aren't you? purred the voice in her head. Having your brains all nicely fucked away?

 

"Uhhhnnnnh..." Bitsy knew she should protest, but—

 

 

She moaned and nodded eagerly, her head bobbing so fast the pigtails bounced. Why wouldn't she enjoy it?

 

"Good girl!" Bitsy trembled with pleasure as the words seemingly deliberately coincided with the tentacles thrusting into her mind and pulsing with pink light. "Aww, you like that/ Being a good girl?" The tentacles pulsated again as they pulled out.

 

"A-Ahh..." Bitsy whimprered, her head full of light—pretty glowy pink light, and sparkles, and rainbows, and also two ghostly magic cocks fucking more and moer of her brains out by the second. "I, um... um..." Her thoughts felt so drippy, so gooey, so melty... "y-yeahh..."

 

Good girl!~ The tentacles lid in again, pulsing with dark magic, and bitsy mewled and drooled and nearly collapsed onto her stomach with pure pleasure.

 

"Y... I... I kn-know what you're..." Bitsy whimpered as the tentacles pulled out again, readied for the next 'assault'. "... what you're doing..."

 

"Aww, do you? There came a laughter in her mind—sweet, girlish laughter that Bitsy found she instinctively longed to hear more of. But you're not supposed to have any thoughts left! Guess we better fix that~

 

"You're... t-training me," Bitsy whimpered, as she felt the tendril touches between her legs returning to toy with her slutty miniskirt.

 

"Training you to what, sssweetie?

 

"To..." Bitsy licked her lips, dizzy with anticipation. "You're training me to.... every time... say..."

 

 

Bitsy whimpered, and not just at the degrading insults. Not just at the touches.

 

The tentacles were still there, pulsing on either side of her head, not quite entering.

 

And her mind felt so lonely without them.

 

So... empty.

 

"I w-won't give in," she whimpered, as she tried and failed to pull her legs together just a fraction of an inch more. But she couldn’t even do that, let alone sit up.

 

 

Bitsy hesitated. She wanted to think of a comeback, of some witty taunt or retaliation. Some way of standing up for herself.

 

But she couldn't stop thinking about those tentacles. She could see their virant, tradiant pink light on either side of her head. She could feel her thoughts starting to reassemble, if only... "This won't affect me," she managed weakly, searching her mind uselessly for the incantations to undo this spell entirely. All she had to do was acancel the spell... but it was so fhard to find anything in he rbrain that wasn't sex...

 

 

Bitsy swallowed. Her face was bright red. Realizing she’d been drooling again, she licked her lips.

 

And apparently, this was answer enough.

 

Good girl! cooed the voice in her head, and her eyes widened with realization—before the tentacles slid in once more, flooding her mind with pleasure unspeakable. I knew you did~

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Ben had to admit, he was starting to regret splitting up so eagerly.

 

At the time, he'd thought of this as no more than a typical errand. They'd caught much tougher fey than lamias before—hell, they'd caught tougher varieties of lamia.

 

At the time, it had been competitive. Who could catch the lamia first.

 

But now, as he tilted his head to hear better and realized he wasn't rightly sure where he was... Kelleben was starting to regret a lot of things.

 

He tapped his cane ahead of him, scowling. Nothing in this forest could threaten him, of course. Beasts of the wild generally left elves alone, thanks to the old fey connections, and those that didn't usually steered clear of these forests, anyways. And the lamia? Ben looked forward to making her his sweet plaything.

 

But this was the twelfth time he'd tripped on a tree root.

 

The trees in this part of the forest, wherever he was... they grew oddly. Misshapen. The roots were never where he expected, never went in the directions he judged when he checked them with the cane.

 

He was getting tired of nearly falling on his face.

 

Plus, he wasn't sure where anyone actually was right now. He didn't want to chance calling out—aside from the embarrassment, and the tactical risk of scaring his prey away, he didn't want to think about what Illetrys would do to him if he spoiled tonight's hunt.

 

Probably something involving a chastity cage and a lot of brainwashing. In public.

 

He sighed. He just needed to find someone. Or the lamia, even. Anyone he could turn into his guide, willing or witched.

 

"Lossst your way, my sssweet?"

 

Ben froze mid-stride.

 

He made sure to eliminate any trace of a sly grin as he turned toward the source of the voice. "Why do you ask, my dear?" the elf asked, keeping his voice light, casual, and only the slightest bit flirty. "Do you think you've found it?"

 

"Mm." The voice oozed sensuality, crackled with arrogance. "Maybe I've found yoursss."

 

The voice was like a slippery eel, like fine lace—delicately weaving through every syllable, evry vibration, girlish and light and yet sibilant and smoky, sticky like tar, like honey, like...

 

Ben sniffed the air. Like syrup. Maple syrup. Sweet, oozing, flowing maple syrup, pouring from the pitcher and pooling on the tongue, sugary and yet with the faintest bitter touch of a smoky-sweet memory.

 

"Well, far be it from me to turn down such a lovely offer from such a lovely lady," he murmured, reaching into his left pocket and feeling the cool weight of the fine silver chain. "Has anyone told you you have the voice of the angels, my dear?"

 

The lamia giggled at this, and he smiled to himself as he drew out the pocket watch. Fey were always such suckers for flattery. She sounded gorgeous, too. That voice was almost too sexy to belong to a fey. Most feys' voices tended to be light and airy, like songbirds, but this one... her voice was like rich, oozing chocolate cake. Decadent. Otherworldly.

 

The maple smell was a bit strange. Ben prided himself on his sense of smell, and he'd ever noticed that around lamias. Was there a maple dryad or hamadryad in the forest? The more the merrier.

 

"Aren't you a sssweet one," cooed the lamia, and he heard her advancing closer, her coils slithering slowly across the ground and branches. She sounded like her coils stretched out quite long, Ben noticed distantly, as he felt soft, delicate fingers caressing his cheek. "Tell me your name."

 

It wasn't a suggestion. Ben gave a confident smile as he toyed idly with the pocket watch, waiting for the right window. Nobody ever noticed the pocket watch. Everyone always looked to his eyes, as if they'd find hidden truths there. Ben's eyes only showed what he wanted them to show. "Kelleben, my dear," he said, and setting his cane aside, he reached blindly for the hand. She allowed him to take it, and he kissed it gallantly. "At your service. And who is this beautiful spirit of the woods? Surely a nixie, or a siren?"

 

Her skin was surprisingly warm, and very soft. He enjoyed the little kiss, knowing there would be more to come. Now he had her hand, he could gauge where her face was more easily. In his spare hand, he tapped the watch idly.

 

"My, my! Sssoo eager to compliment me!" The lamia's smile hung in every word, savoring every 'm' and 'p' consonant. Plump, luscious lips popped on every '’p' and 'b' sound, hummed with every 'm' and 'v', cooed with every vowel, hissed with every ‘s’. "My name is Celessste, my sssweet."

 

"Celeste. What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Ben tried to keep his smile innocently flirtatious, tried to hide his smirk. But he could tell she already wanted him.

 

Women were always so easy—especially when they were silly, carefree bimbo fey like this one. He was going to enjoy this. She wanted him desperately.

 

That was probably why her hot, smooth scaly coils were beginning to wrap around his feet and ankles.

 

Inwardly, he was already planning the depraved, adorable things that would be done to the hypnotized little toy. He couldn't wait. But then, he had a feeling this wouldn't take long.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

"Well, well, well." The feminine voice, dripping with smug, self-superior satisfaction, poured over the quivering Bitsy like a downpour of sticky-sweet honey. Drugged honey. Poisoned honey. "Just look what you've reduced yourssself to~"

 

Bitsy moaned. Bitsy drooled. Bitsy's head bobbed brainlessly from side to side, held in place only by the tendrils actively continuing to thrust into her open, empty brain.

 

No. Not empty. She gazed into the darkness, her sensible, free-willed mind nearly molten in the face of such unbearable pleasure. Filled. Filled with her own magic's brainwashing power.

 

Filled with the same pretty pink haze she saw the world through as she found her chin being gently taken and guided upwards...

 

... upwards to gaze, spellstruck, as the phallic spells continued to thrust into her silly bimbo brains and fill her with giggly bubblegum-pink obedience, into the most beautiful eyes she'd ever dreamed of.

 

Shimmering spirals of gold and crimson and green swirled deeply into their center, pulling Bitsy in like a squirming fish on a line, a leaf in a current, a rowboat encountering a Charybdis.

 

The lamia... creature smirked down imperiously, stroking along Bitty's slack jawline with one violet-nailed fingertip. "And aren't you," she cooed, as her eyes swirled and spiraled like great vortices, sucking all of Bitsy's drippy, melty thoughts right into them like flotsam into twin beautiful maelstroms, "just the cutest thing I've ever seen!"

 

Bitty whimpered and squirmed helplessly. But with her head being held steady, the spells fucking her mind were merciless, inescapable. She gazed up in hopeless wonder, marveling at the endless beauty of those pretty spirals...

 

"Sssuch an adorable little bimbo ssslut," the temptress purred, smiling smugly.

 

Bitty whined and wiggled adorably.

 

"Oh?" The lamia giggled, seven forked tongues slipping past to lick those luscious dark violet lips. "Do you like that, my sssweet?'' Her eyes pounded Bitty's mind with color, spiraled inwards and then outwards, filled Bitty’s own eyes with the endless, inevitable, inescapable beauty of surrender. "Being my dumb little brainlesss bimbo pleasure ssslut?"

 

Through the haze, she tried to shake her head, but as the spirals drw all her attention, she felt her own magics gripping her blonde pigtails... and using them like handles to nod her head yes.

 

And that made her whole body thrum in delicious humiliation all the more as Celeste burst out in delighted laughter.

 

"Oh, my, my," she cooed, as if to an invalid, as she cradled Bitsy's face in her hands, "you loved giving in, didn't you? You looove becoming my adorable dumb slutty little bimbo doll."

 

"The—" Bitsy whimpered, her drooling lips slurring over the words, her lolling tongue stumbling over the simplest syllables, "the... the spell..."

 

“The ssspell?” the coil fiend asked innocently, lashes fluttering.

 

Bitty tried to say something more, but her mouth might as well have been filled with sweet, gooey, sticky syrup as the eyes drew closer.

 

“My ssspell was only sssupposed to sssubdue you," the being whispered down at her. "But all thisss?"

 

Bitty moaned as she felt the being's coils beginning to wrap around her ankles, up to her thighs, gripping her tightly. "N-Nno, I don't... I won't..." Down below, she felt herself twitching in desperation...

 

... and Celeste noticed. Beaming, she reached down and pulled up Bitsy's skirt, revealing Bitsy's twitching little needy traitoress for the whole world to see. Her cock had been drooling all evening, of course—it always was—but now, now...

 

Bitsy squeaked as the lamia creature reached down with a sly smile and drew a finger along her little length.

 

"Ssssooo eager!"

 

Bitsy whimpered and bucked and squirmed as she felt herself being hoisted up by the coils tightening around her thighs, up to her waist—but leaving her cute cock so helplessly exposed—

 

"Oh, sssuch delectable morsssels that ssslide into Celessste'sss clutchesss," the lamia-being cooed, and Bitsy shivered as those eyes flooded her very soul.

 

"I—I w-won't—"

 

"You are," Celeste said sweetly, putting a finger to Bitty's lips. Bitty squirmed as the coils began to tighten around her chest. "And I'm going to take wonderful care of you."

 

Bitty stared into those eyes, felt the soft, supple coils tightening, pulsing, massaging… and she felt her body beginning to go limp as her jaw went totally slack.

 

"Sssuch a pretty... helplessss... hopelessss… brainlessssss... ssslutty little doll~"

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Ben smirked. This was too easy.

 

"Back... and forth..." Celeste murmured, her voice thick and heavy with trance. He heard her slithering softly as she swayed, swayed in time with the sweet, gentle left-to-right, right-to-left swing of the pocket watch dangling casually from his fingertips.

 

"That's right," Ben cooed, relishing that sweet soft husky purr to her voice, the first sign that a surrender was looming. "Just back and forth, now... watching it sway, seeing how it catches the light just so~"

 

"Sssway," the lamia whispered.

 

"Mmm, that's exactly right, my dear. You're doing so well!" He beamed, focusing intently on the rhythm of the watch.

 

Being blind, he had no way to know how it felt to sink under like this. It made him a terrifyingly effective hypnotist, in his opinion. People couldn't turn the effects on him. They couldn't distract him. All he had to do was follow the rhythm and keep his words matching the gentle up... low-swing up... low-swing up...

 

"Isn’t it so easy to just watch and sink into its sway?" he went on, keeping his voice soft, gentle, almost melodic, like a lullaby. "Letting your eyes glaze over, letting the baaackand forth and p and down fill your poor, tired, heavy, sleepy head all up..."

 

"... tired..." Her voice was almost a moan.

 

Ben licked his lips. He never, ever got tired of this part. As cute as the resistance stage was—and she had barely resisted—this moment, the moment where they were truly under, were truly suggestible to his every whim.. oh, he could let it last forever.

 

But it was about to get better.

 

"You feel so good, don't you?" he murmured slyly. "Aren't I helping you feel so good?"

 

"Sssooo... gooood..." Celeste sighed. Her purr sent pleasurable tingles up and down Ben's back. "You make me feel... ssssooo gooooood..."

 

"That's right," he said, earnestly delighted. Gods, she took suggestion so well. "And you're soooo grateful... aren't you?"

 

"Grateful... yesss..." Her coils slithered about, and he heard the soft sounds of skin on skin, like she was groping herself, running her hands over her no-doubt soft, smooth skin... "I’m ssssooo grateful to you... for making me feel sssoooo very good..."

 

"Good girl," he purred, smirking broadly. He didn't care if she saw anymore. She was staring at the pocket watch now. That motion, the gentle sway, that was her world now. "You're going to want to please me, aren't you?"

 

Now it was time to bring her under for good. To start layering conditioning and suggestions, to make sure she'd play nice when he led her back to the other elves. He licked his lips. A pity Trys was here. If their leader weren't present... but no, best to get it done quickly. He could toy with this one later, perhaps.

 

"Oh, yesss," Celeste sighed happily, and Ben felt a length of scaly coil caressing along his ankle. "Want to... please you, Massster... make you feel good..."

 

"Ahh...." He sighed, enjoying the sensation. Gods, how he wanted to take advantage... but no, he had a job to...

 

Oh, but... 'Master'... he loved that, had he already instructed her to call him that yet or had she just... naturally thought of it?

 

He wasn't sure which was hotter.

 

"Well, then," he said at last, relenting to his better instincts, "just keep watching the pocket watch, my sweet thing, and I'll tell you just how to please me."

 

"Please you," the lamia echoed softly, and he felt her fingers—long, slender and delicate, pianist fingers—caressing his neck. He shivered at the touch. "Please, Massster... let me please you~"

 

"Mmm... good girl..." he gave a slight nod of tacit approval, despite himself. Ben was very... sensitive in certain spots, especially around his neck, and...

 

"Gooood," she cooed happily, taking this as instruction to continue the touches. Her sweet, soft, wispy voice came closer, thrumming with vibrant purrs like a pleased cat. "Is this.... good... Massster?"

 

"Y... Yes..." Ben had to consciously remind himself to make sure the pocket watch kept its rhythm. She was already probably deep under enough to stay there, but... couldn't be... too careful...

 

The fingertips continued to dance and stroke over his neck, making him shudder and bite his lip to hold in a sound of pleasure. This seemed to only encourage them to be even more eagerly attentive to those extra-sensitive spots, unfortunately, and he could feel his face heating up. Dimly, he also felt more touches along his ankles through his trousers. "Am I... being good to you, Massster?" the sibilant voice asked, and came closer still. It descended to a feather purr, forked tongues tickling his ear as she practically moaned, "Am I... being a good girl?"

 

"Yes..." he gasped, as the fingers stroked and caressed over his neck, as delicate as swan's down. "Good... g-goooood..."

 

"Your good pet?" she whispered, cutting him off.

 

He swallowed. "Good... good pet..."

 

"Your good little ssssuggesstible toy?" she gushed, her fingertips dancing under his shirt collar, down his spine, and his back arched a little as he gasped in pleasure. Gods, if her fingers were so skilled just here, he couldn't imagine... imagine...

 

"Yessss," he panted, disoriented but trying to recover his senses before he got too carried away with this adorable little—

 

"Completely under your sssway," she purred in his ear. He vaguely noticed her serpentine tail caressing higher, running over his calves, a tight, loving embrace. "Watching... the watch... ssswing..."

 

The watch. Right. Ben swallowed and returned his focus to the watch, the sway of which he'd allowed to get a little uneven in the... excitement. "That's right," he said softly, trying not to tremble too obviously as the feathery touches reached his ass, then arced back up to his shoulders. "I'm... ah... you're..."

 

"Yoursss," she moaned, and he heard and felt her leaning in, the heat of her body a terrible temptation on this dark, chilly night. "Yours, Massster~"

 

"M-Mine," he gasped, unable to contain his delight as her breath warmed his cheek. He breathed in deep and savored the sweet, rich, enticing scent of maple syrup... "Th-That's right, dear, just... just..."

 

"All yoursss for the taking, Massster," she sighed blissfully, and her lips smacked indulgently—gods, her lips were as plump and soft as summer cherries—against his bare neck. As her tail coiled around his thighs, so warm and smooth, Her fingertips rose along his neck and began to draw affectionate thoughtless circles. "Ssso take what you want~"

 

"What i... want..." Ben struggled to remember to swing the pocket watch. In fact, it was starting to occupy most of his conscious thought, as unconsciously, he reached out and groped her side, marveling at her warm, soft flesh...

 

.... only for the tip of her tail to take his hand and gently, but firmly, guide him instead to grope one of her massive, soft, squishy, bouncy breasts.

 

"Anything you want, Massster," she hissed. "I'm... all… yoursss~"

 

Back and forth. Back and forth. Up and down. Rise and fall. Ben struggled to focus, even as he groped greedily with his free hand, even as he squirmed at more soft, wet kisses on his neck and cheeks, more of those strange, wonderful circular touches on his neck... circling,,, spiraling...

 

"That'sss right, Massster~" Celeste cooed, and Ben held in a whimper at how close she was getting, at how that husky voice sent shivers down his spine. "Does that feel... good?"

 

"Good," he whispered, barely focusing on his words. Back and forth. Back... and forth... "Good pet, yes... feels... good..."

 

"And..." Her voice dropped to a delicate, dainty little princess coo as seven little forked tongues tickled his inner ear. "... you want more, don't you, Massster?"

 

"More," he whispered unthinkingly. Back and forth. Up and down. It was such a delicate, incessant motion. Such a subtle rise and fall of his hand. keeping it swinging... back and forth...

 

He'd only vaguely registered what he'd said, and wondered if it was a good idea, when Celeste giggled and 'rewarded' him, her Master, with a wet, affectionate kiss on the lips.

 

Briefly, her tongues slipped into his mouth, and he moaned in unexpected pleasure. Her lips were as pillowy as before, with the 'chaste; kisses, but her tongues...delicate and many, coiling around and capturing his own, the coils down below tightening around his hips and helping his trousers down, the pocket watch chain slipping from his trembling fingers, the spiraling touches circling around and around on his neck, her her scent, her taste, her heat filling him up, a breathtaking, overwhelming kiss that seemed almost hungry.

 

He moaned into her, and felt her giggling in the kiss, her luscious lips smacking lewdly as she moaned back.

 

She pulled back with a happy, satisfied sigh, and giggled. "Good Massster!" she cooed.

 

Ben swayed. Back and... back and... forth? His head was dreamy and foggy and filled with syrup. Heavy. It lulled. Thick. His thoughts sank. That kiss had left him strangely weak in the knees. Was that… normal?

 

"Good... pet?" he whimpered, suddenly very, very unsure of that title.

 

Celeste laughed. The fingers spiraled around and around, drowning him in the delicate, hypnotic sensations.

 

"Yesss," she purred silkily, "I agree. That'sss a much better title for you, I think~"

 

He froze.

 

And the coils around his waist suddenly tightened and, without warning, he felt himself lurching right up into the air.

 

The world spun, and vertigo made his head swim. and when it stopped swimming, he was hanging upside-down./

 

He squirmed, flailed his arms in the emptiness of space. But he was helpless.

 

And Celeste's achingly sensuous voice murmured down to him, "There. Isn't that better?"

 

"Wh—what—"

 

As the coils tightened and began to pulse with sinful power, the... lamia?... let out a soft giggle. "Ah, playing with you minionsss was almost too easy." Her voice began to thrum with energy that Ben had never felt in a fey before.

 

"Now for the main course~"