Cedwyn's heart stopped cold.

Lilyana's voice lilted on as her flower continued to suck his cock. "So ditzy and silly and—"

The apprentice witch recoiled with a cry, the buzz in his head fading beneath pounding panic. He fell back, the succubus flower coming off his dick with a loud, wet pop.

He heard Lilyana let out a little groan of disappointment, but he was already scrambling to his feet, racing for the path—he had to get out, had to get away, she was some kind of predator, she was going to eat him and spit out his bones—

He heard her call out to him, but he ignored her, racing for the path through the thicket—which was, he realized, slowly creeping shut again. With a hoarse cry, he released a blast of raw arcane energy, and the plants recoiled as though burned. He sprinted through.

One of the vines ducked down toward his shoulder. He ducked underneath, ignoring the alraune as she called out again. He leaped out of the brambles, racing for the edge of the clearing—

WHUMF

Darkness enveloped him— soft, cool darkness—and he let out a muffled scream. He clawed at the leathery mass that had covered his head, yanking at it, trying to rip it from his face before it—

Oh.

"You forgot your coat," he heard Lilyana say softly. "You... wouldn't want to forget that, would you?"

He blinked down... at the ragged coat he held in his hands.

"You saw one of the skulls." The not-alraune gave a sigh. "I... should really get rid of those, I know. You must have been terrified."

He stared at the coat, carefully staying silent.

"It's just... difficult." she went on. "They have so many memories attached to them. I guess you could say I live in the past a little." She let out a rueful laugh. "Oh, boy, you must have been so frightened. I'm sorry."

He bit his lip. He'd expected her to grab him, or try to swarm him in brambles or something. But she didn't sound angry, or amused, or cruel. She just sounded sad.

Maybe a bit bitter.

"What?" he managed. Not turning, he took another step forward, safely placing himself outside the clearing. Instantly, he felt a little bit better. Less dizzy. His vision was a bit clearer, too.

"You know what the Witch's Gallows were used for, I trust?"

"Um... yes." Cedwyn swallowed. "Inquisitors used to come by and capture suspected witches and... trial them here. As I understand it."

"Ha!" This laugh had some genuine mirth to it, but it was a bloodied, serrated blade of mirth. "Not much trial. The witches they took out here were already guilty in the inquisitors' eyes. They just executed them on the spot."

"... oh." Cedwyn nearly turned around, but stopped himself. "So that skull..."

"I don't know her name," Lilyana said. "But I remember her weeping as they tied the rope around her neck. Poor girl. It was... truly something to see."

A cool silence hung over the forest.

"But you needn't fear that, do you, boy?" Her voice turned warmer. "They are kind to witches now, you tell me. You must feel so safe now."

"I... maybe?" He swallowed.

She sounded curious. "Oh? Is there something bothering you, sweetie?"

He flushed. Everything about her manner, the way she addressed him, the way she smiled at him, told him that he ought to listen and do as she said. But something about her manner just felt... mischievous, at the very least. "I felt... weird. Hazy."

"... oh?" Her voice was unmistakeably sultry. "Sweet boy, I've heard that before, but usually not as a complaint."

"W-what?"

"Well, some boys and girls are just... silly." He heard her giggle. "Especially the boys. It's silly how they react. But something about me just makes them want to turn into giggly little airheaded messes that want to spend the rest of the day playing with me and my lovey-dovey flowers."

Cedwyn winced as she mentioned the flowers, remembering how her flower had felt on his cock. It had been so... wet. So slick and warm and soft. He felt hazy just thinking about it.

Lilyana paused a moment, then went on with a tinkling laugh, "But I'm sure this is something completely different!"

Cedwyn's mouth was dry. His head was spinning. "I... I really should be going."

There was another pause.

"I'm sorry, what?" She gave a pouty sigh. "I can barely hear you mumbling, boy."

"I really should be going!" he said, louder, trying desperately to keep his tone civil.

"Look at me when you're talking to me, sweetie; I can't understand a word you're saying."

He turned around without even thinking.

And Lilyana smiled.

The flower's petals had lowered, and now her whole upper body was visible. She had a flat, toned stomach, and long, soft arms that spoke of a truly loving embrace. Her waist was impossibly narrow, her hips wide.

But from the second he turned around, Cedwyn's eyes were glued to her massive, shining breasts.

It wasn't just that they were massive (though they were easily the size of her head).

It wasn't just how soft they looked (though he could tell from how her hands sank into them that he could fall asleep atop them with tender ease).

It wasn't how they jiggled and bounced as she pressed them against each other (bouncing back and forth, up and down, back and forth...).

It wasn't how the sunlight reflected off them, showing how smooth their skin was (so shiny, the light dazzled his eyes), or how the dark green aerolae and nipples were prominent and dripping with moisture (and he was so, so thirsty).

It was the way their owner looked at him in that moment as he stared at them. As though, in that scant instant, she had looked into his eyes and instantly seen his most mind-melting weakness... and she liked what she saw.

For a long moment, he just stared, shellshocked.

Her voice came, soft and sweet and silky as a slithering serpent. "Oh, aren't they pretty?"

His face was burning. His eyes ran over the alraune's prodigious curves like he was touching them, lost in their smoothness, lost in their slow, jiggly motion.

"The boys and girls always like them," she teased. "They certainly are nice and heavy. Heavy and soft and smooth... like a good boy's mind."

"W-what?" This made him start a little, blinking blearily up until her eyes intercepted his and nudged his back down meekly to her tits. "I d... I don't..."

"No?" She giggled. "Well, that's okay. You don't have to like them. You're just watching them because it's so, so easy to watch, isn't it?"

"Um... yeah."

"So easy to stare at them, admire them." Her voice lowered to a husky purr. "You know, some of my playmates have had trouble with these breasts. Can you believe it?"

She began to rhythmically bounce her breasts together. He watched them jiggle and swing, his eyes following them as they went back and forth, back and forth, up and down... "Um."

"Oh, yes, my sweet, sweet boy." The alraune shook her head ruefully. "Some of the most silly, ditzy, dizzy visitors I've had could even get hypnotized by them. Lost in them. Isn't that funny?"

He was barely taking in what she was saying as he watched her breasts swing. "... Um..."

"Do you like my breasts?" she asked suddenly.

Her question filtered slowly in, and his face reddened as he registered it. But the question oozed away just as quickly, and he was left disoriented, trying to remember what he'd been asked. Cedwyn bit his lip, watching her gorgeous tits bounce. "Um... um..."

"Perfect, aren't they?" she cooed. "Flawless."

"Flawless," he slurred, slightly annoyed that she was still talking to him with this nonsense when he just wanted to watch her perfect, flawless breasts.

"So easy to just watch them. So easy to sink into them." She slowly began spiraling her fingers inwards towards her nipples, and he watched helplessly, intoxicated by the sight. "And isn't it nice to sink into it? Isn't it fun?"

"Easy," he heard himself murmur, and was momentarily disturbed at how little the voice truly sounded like him. It was so distant. So... hazy. Like he was hearing himself down a distant tunnel.

"Eeeeasy," she whispered, and her voice was so sweet and liquidy, it could have trickled between his ears without his even noticing.

"Easy," he whispered again. He swayed slightly, staring through the thick pink haze into those soft, beautiful, wonderful breasts.

There was a long silence.

"Goodness, sweetie," Lilyana remarked, "you almost sound a little... hypnotized!"

He blinked. Slowly. Dazedly. Being hypnotized meant... that meant he was silly. Dizzy. Ditzy. Easy. "'m not h'pntzzl," he protested.

She giggled for some reason. "Okay, sweet boy. You say you're not hypnotized?"

"Mm." He shook his head, trying to shake out some of this strange haze. He blinked rapidly, staring at her perfect, smooth, round breasts, wondering why it was so hard for him to focus—and why he was so helplessly, hopelessly horny right now.

"Look me in the eye when you speak to me, baby," she said sweetly.

"Yes, Lilyana," he whispered, continuing to ogle her chest.

She giggled again, this time in unmistakeable triumph. "Goodness, sweet boy, you just can't look away, can you?"

He mumbled, blushing furiously. Why couldn't he look away? Damn it, he felt so... so silly right now.

"Can't look away from my perfect, beautiful breasts," she said softly, running her hands over them slowly, emphasizing their smoothness, their perfection. "Because it's so easy to look. To sink. Deeper and deeper and deeper."

He swayed. He felt a vine tenderly wrap around his neck, and appreciated it, as it helped him to remain standing. It slowly slithered around his neck and snaked down his back, looping under each arm. He stared at her ample cleavage, mouth watering. Her breasts were flushing a deep forest green.

Why couldn't he look away?

"You just... melt." Her voice was so soft, so smooth, like velvet running over his body. "Melt into slick little goo for me. Just a happy little melty boy for me."

The vine looped underneath his other arm. He mumbled something in response—a denial, no doubt. He wasn't... he wasn't melting. How silly.

Silly. He giggled faintly. Silly. Silly and hazy and... He sank into the soft grasp of the vine, almost oozing into its grip. Silly and hazy and dizzy and ditzy. He giggled again, relaxing in the vine's embrace.

Her smooth, sensual voice flowed on. "Imagine you're a little droplet of water, baby, slowly running down my neck..." She trailed her finger down her neck. "And down my shoulder... and down... my... chest." Her voice wasa smoky whisper. "Down, down, deeper and deeper, slipping in between my breasts..."

Her finger stopped, but he followed its path, staring into her inhuman cleavage.

She seemed to regard him for a moment. She slowly swayed to the left, then the right. His eyes followed her breasts. She pressed them together—and they were so soft, so supple—and he leaned in slightly. She touched one nipple, and a droplet of moister oozed out. His mouth opened and watered.

"Nice, obedient boy," she cooed softly.

"N-nice..." He felt so dizzy. So agreeable. "Nice..."

She laughed. "Aw. Such a nice, obedient little one I've caught. So helpless. So pliant. You're a little bimbo for tits, aren't you? A slave for them."

"Nn..." He bit his lip. He knew this was wrong. Knew he had to be resisting. Had to look away from her massive, milky, smooth breasts...

... even though he was so.. so... obedient.

Helpless.

Pliant.

He felt too dizzy to fight. Too ditzy to think to fight. Too silly to want to fight. Too horny to... to...

He swayed, held aloft only by the vine.

"Oh, poor thing." She sighed. "I simply must spend a day to help you find your way. You'd like that, right?" She squeezed one breast, then lifted it up and planted a kiss upon her nipple. "A little... alone time with the ladies?"

His tongue lolled out as he saw a faint green lipstick stain.

"You're so weak for them," she whispered. Her voice was so soft, so crackly, he felt like she was whispering right into his ear. "You'd do anything for them, wouldn't you? Just for a little... mm... suckle?"

She pinched her nipple, and made a big show of sucking off her finger. He barely saw it. He was entranced.

"Oh, poor thing." She shook her head in distress. "Some boys just can't handle themselves around big breasts like these! I'll bet you must have so much trouble back home. Are there any... village girls you know?"

He didn't respond at first. Then she cleared her throat, and instinctively, not wanting to be rude, he whispered, "Miss Gilders."

"Ooh. A Miss." Her amusement was so thick it dripped through her words like syrup. "And does she have nice, big breasts like mine, baby?"

"Nn... not like yours." His voice was slurred. Distant. Fading.

"Oh, but she does have a nice pair of mindmelters for a silly little boy like you, doesn't she?"

He hesitated.

It was like a coyote that had just scented blood. "Do you blush every time you see her?" the alraune whispered. "Do you try not to stare? Do you... let her push you around a little?"

"Yes," he finally whispered, relenting beneath her barrage of teasing questions. "Yes, Lilyana."

"Call me Miss Lilyana."

"Yes, M-Miss Lilyana." As the words slipped through his lips, his cock twitched. He gave a soft moan. Something in his head just seemed to click as he stared at those slowly-swinging breasts.

"Mm..." Lilyana tsked. "My goodness, sweetie, you just let aaaanyone with nice, big tits push you around, don't you?"

He tried to parse a protest. That wasn't true, was it? It wasn't that... he wasn't...

While he was struggling to make sense through the daze, he heard himself mumble, "Yes, Miss Lilyana."

And the part of his brain that had just clicked melted a little.

"Good boy," she cooed. "You can't resist nice, soft tits. You need to obey them. They control you."

"I... I..."

"Look at your cock," she cooed, her voice husky. And though he couldn't look—Cedwyn couldn't tear his eyes away from her breasts, not ever—he felt himself sink a little bit deeper as he realized just how horny, just how needy and silly and dizzy and obedient and pliant and agreeable and what a good boy he was.

He whimpered, watching as her tits jiggled.

"You," she said sweetly, "are enslaved by my tits."

"Nn."

"You can't resist them." Her voice was like sweet sugar, pouring into his head, filling him like an hourglass. "Can't disobey them. Can't look away, even when I tell you to... because you want to please them."

He moaned as the vine encircling his neck and arms slowly bound his hands to his sides.

"You," she said, in the exact same sweet cadence, "are completely powerless to resist my nice, perfect breasts. Completely. Powerless."

He whispered something.

"What was that, baby?" The tiniest droplet of mockery dripped into her voice. "Mommy couldn't hear you. Speak up for Miss Lilyana, boy."

"Powerless," he said again, his voice weak.

"That's right." She grinned widely, spiraling a finger in slow circles around her right nipple. "Powerless. Helpless. Just my happy, horny, dizzy, docile, silly, melty Titslave."

He felt the new name like a physical force, like a silken glove. He swayed, struggled limply, and...

"Melt for my, Titslave."

"Yes, Miss Lilyana," Titslave whimpered.

"You're such a good boy," she said teasingly. "Such a good boy for your mistresses—your Miss Lilyana and your two beautiful mommies."

He whimpered. He tried desperately to look away, but it was so, so easy to just sink deeper... to melt...

He stared at the breasts and shook his head weakly, trying desperately... desperately... but he had to obey, he wanted to obey, to be a good boy, and it was just for the day...

And once that tantalizing thought entered his head, Titslave obediently melted.

Something must have changed in his eyes, because Lilyana laughed again through the pink haze. "Take a step closer, Titslave," she said.

He took a step forward, guided by the vines which now held him completely bound from the waist up.

"Come closer, baby," she sang, spreading her arms wide. Her tits fell down, bouncing, and his mind oozed down with them. "Come to Miss Lilyana. Come to Mommies."

And the next thing he knew, he was right in front of her, back on the platform. His head lolled. His mind was sloshing around like someone had half-filled it with sugarwater. His eyes were trained on her right breast, which her finger was still slowly spiraling on—almost as though she was reeling him in.

Her other hand took his chin, and he felt the vine guide his head upwards. For a moment, Cedwyn was tugged gently out of the daze, and found himself staring, in a haze of pink mist, into Lilyana's gleaming red-streaked green eyes. But then her fingers gently caressed his cheek, and he gasped, feeling the same silly haze from before taking over. He couldn't help but let it.

"Good," she cooed, "Gooood. Nice, deep breaths for me, sweetie. Aw, isn't that nice?" She stroked his hair lovingly. "You like my pheromones, don't you? So nice and soft and sweet. Like you!" She giggled, and cupped his cheek in her hand—he leaned into it, whimpering.

"But..." He blinked rapidly, struggling to recover. But he couldn't stop breathing in. "But I..." She was... was hypnotizing him. With her beautiful, soft, wonderful breasts. Titslave—Cedwyn—he couldn't-

"Remember my flowers, sweetie?" Miss Lilyana whispered.

He blinked. Memories drifted through him—constant wet sucking, lewd sounds, cooing giggled, constant pleasure...

He tried to reach up to rub his eyes, but something was holding his hand tightly bound to his side.

What... what had he been saying?

He felt so confused. So confused and dizzy and good. He smiled vacantly at Miss Lilyana.

"Feel better?" she cooed.

"Um!" he babbled happily.

"Wanna look at my pretty boobies s'more?" she cooed.

Before he could think to respond, her hand fell away, and the vine guided his head back down to look at her chest... and he was once again lost.

Only this time, Titslave realized...

"Oh," Lilyana whispered, "does my sweet baby boy wanna give his Mommy a kiss?"

... He was leaning in. Leaning closer. His head felt so heavy. His mind felt so deep.

His cock twitched and throbbed with excitement as his lips settled upon her soft, warm flesh of her right breast.

A soft sigh escaped Lilyana as her fingers wove into his hair, pressed him against her. "Good boy," she said. "Good Titslave. Make your mistresses happy, now." Her voice turned breathy. "Your—oh—Mommy has something for you, Titslave."

And he tasted a bit of moisture on his tongue.

Without thinking, his lips locked around her pert, hard nipple, and he started to suckle. Instantly, a warm, sweet, gooey fluid—almost like honey—squirted into his mouth as a reward almost as sweet as Miss Lilyana's praise and moans.

"Th-that's it," he heard her cry. "Suckle your Mommy! Drink, boy! Drink, T-Titslave! Drink all that yummy nectar."

He started to suckle hungrily, whimpering with her. The nectar flooded his mouth, and he drank it down in greedy gulps. His mouth was dripping with the stuff as he suckled messily.

She clung to him, gasping. Her voice was a bit higher-pitched than usual. "Oh, you—oh, s-so good—oh, you l-like that..."

He moaned in agreement. As the nectar poured down his throat, his cock was beginning to throb, to grow.

Titslave felt so, so good right now, and Cedwyn felt so far away.

He felt so docile. So happy and horny. So dizzy and hazy. He gasped as nectar dripped from his lips, barely able to stop drinking long enough to even breathe. He gazed up lovingly at Lilyana, who smiled down at him with delight.