The Repossession

Chapter 1

by GigglingGoblin

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:female #f/f #f/m #sub:female #breast_fixation #D/s #hypnosis #mind_control #possession #spiral_eyes #sub:male #transformation #transgender_characters #urban_fantasy

This was a commission for the brilliant comic artist Shozaya, whose work I strongly recommend if you like lewd hypnosis art that emphasizes expressions of truly molten surrender. Seriously, she's amazing, and these characters of hers are a delight.

Lorelei's Note: This story features cisboy, cisgirl and transgirl POVs and contains nonconsensual sex, ghost possession, hypnosis, and everything else listed in the tags. Real-life con-noncon requires a lot of trust, safewords, and other things a fantasy can fudge a little. Enjoy the kink responsibly, and enjoy the story!

This short series is part of a collaboration I'm doing with the amazing artist Shozaya, and Moira, Lucy and Ben are her characters! Check out her comics sometime!

~ ~ ~ ~

“That's quite a pair you've got there, hon.”

Ben looked up from his book, startled, then glanced down bashfully. “Um, thanks, ma'am.”

“Not a compliment.” The bus driver turned back to raise an eyebrow at him, her wizened face looking distinctly unimpressed. “When you got on I thought you were wearing dead white rats strapped to your feet. How old are those things, anyways?”

“U-Um…” Ben flushed. The bus rattled and rumbled as it made its way down the old country road, so loud he almost felt like he could retreat into it, let his answer be swallowed in the din. But the bus driver was waiting, and worse, her eyes were off the very bumpy road while she waited. He gulped. “They're a few years old. I just do a lot of running.”

“In those things? They look like something died in ’em.”

Ben squirmed as a couple regulars on the bus laughed. The bus driver seemed unamused, though.

“Better lay off him, Donna," rasped an older man towards the back. “Don't mind her, kid, she just likes to needle new riders.”

“I'm just asking.” Donna shrugged. She steered the bus around a bend with one hand, not turning to look. Ben's heart lurched, even though surely she'd driven this road enough times to know it by heart and there was no real danger. Right? “I don't get why someone would wear shoes that look like something died in ’em, is all.”

“I just…” Ben looked down at his own feet, eyeing the tattered old running shoes. “They're, you know. Good luck.”

“Not for the possums they skinned to make ’em.”

Ben's cheeks burned. “Look, I just—”

“I'm just curious, is all.” The bus driver's head tilted. “I have never seen a pair of shoes that old. I didn't think they even made them like that anymore. Were they your grandmother’s shoes, or something?”

“My stop!” Ben blurted, and tugged on the line.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Wow. That was… impressively embarrassing.”

“Look, I panicked, alright?”

“It's a good thing I'm immune to second-hand embarrassment.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what? Oh, did you not get it? It’s funny because—”

Yes I get it ha-ha very funny Lucy.

Lucy giggled. The translucent blue spirit shimmered in the dim morning light as she raised her right arm—showing off the clean-cut stump. “So, you know this isn't our stop, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

She flitted to the other side of him, but a thin wispy trail continued to connect her to his shoes. “Nnnot even close.”

“Look, I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t realize we were still out of town. I was a little out of it when the driver started interrogating me about your ratty haunted shoes, and I figured I could just catch another bus and… avoid an awkward conversation.”

"Hm." Lucy looked around mock-innocently. The shapely ghost’s long ponytail flicked behind her and danced in a nonexistent breeze. Framed against the deep green of the vast evergreen forest behind her, her glowing form, totally naked, was especially easy to spot—which actually made Ben a little nervous about her being out and about this close to the road. “Well, gosh, Ben, I sure don't see any buses coming~”

He rolled his eyes. “You know, you could have just possessed a nicer pair of shoes, so I wouldn’t always be getting stares.”

“I’m not the one who never takes them to get fixed up!”

“I am ninety-nine percent sure that nobody below the age of ninety bothers getting their old running shoes ‘fixed up’.”

Lucy hesitated, then gave a sheepish laugh. “Okay, I’ll ease up.”

Thank you.” Ben snorted. It's not that he didn't like Lucy. She was his friend, and a great running coach, and she had a knack for making him laugh. But sometimes this restless spirit had a little too much recklessness for him to deal with.

“But you better look into the one-percent-unsureness.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I bet you anything there’s ten nerds on Ehsi who’ll do it for twenty bucks and a good review.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure the postal service won’t mind shipping a pair of haunted tennis shoes.”

“I could stay in the box!”

“Lucy, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you stay in the same place for more than thirty seconds.” Ben hopped gingerly down off the road into the grasses, careful to avoid the brambles and poison oak growing everywhere, and started making his way into the shadowy woods. “You always either start zooming around like a cat on catnip, or you get really, really…”

He bit his tongue.

“Hm?” Lucy cocked her head, flitting up in front of him, then flying around behind. “Really what?”

“N-Nothing.” Ben cleared his throat, turning to face her and hoping his cheeks only felt hot under the late afternoon sun. “Let’s just get moving.”

"Mm, I don’t think so~" Lucy raised an eyebrow, darting to his other side again and back out of sight. “You had something to say!”

Ben shifted uneasily, turning to keep his eyes on the cute ghost girl. "No, I didn’t," he started, internally cursing the slight tremble to his voice, "I just, um, was saying—"

"Was saying something?" She batted her eyelashes, leaning in close the second he had her back in his sights. "Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt. You know, you clearly know best."

Ben flinched back. "I-I was just—"

"But maybe you'd like my help," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. “C’mon, Ben.”


“It's a long walk back." She smiled innocently. “Might as well borrow some of my energy while I’ve got it.”

Ben swallowed. He looked at her hand, then took it, trying to quell his nerves. "Okay, I-I guess that’s fair."

Lucy beamed. “Of course it is,” she sang.

Her hand started to vibrate against his. She crouched, then took a diving leap right into Ben's torso, pulling him into her as she did so. The ghost rushed into his being, and in an instant, she was gone.

Only she wasn’t, of course.

Ben never got used to this feeling—the feeling of being swept down a fast-flowing river, only to be plucked into a tranquil eddy, tucked away in peaceful half-slumber while Lucy took over. He never got used to the way it made his whole spirit seem to flutter and tingle and buzz like a honeybee trapped in its own honey.

With one last deep vibrant hum, like his body and soul were guitars being strummed in harmony, he realized he had lost all power over his own body.

It wasn't like being paralyzed, exactly. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. It was more like... drifting. Like being too lost in daydreams to remember himself, only the daydreams were watching his own body.

Their own body.

Lucy’s presence in Ben’s body shifted it physically, too. Ben could feel all the sensations of their breasts expanding, their curves redistributing. Ben was naturally of a fairly slender build, aside from a pair of powerful legs, but Lucy’s presence widened their hips, enhanced their already generous thighs and calves, in a feeling like being placed in a vibrating chair.

And at last, Lucienne giggled and gave a great, big stretch, showing off her newly curvaceous figure. "Gosh, I never get tired of that," she chirped, admiring the way her own fingers clenched and unclenched. "Never get used to not being able to float, either, though."

"We should get moving, though," Ben reminded her, his mental voice tinged with unease. He could feel Lucy’s spirit humming with excitement inside them.

"Aw, well, hang on a second, Ben." Lucienne’s voice came out silky and smooth as her hands ran down her sides and up under her shirt, stroking lovingly over the smooth skin of her midriff. Internally, Ben shivered. "I don't see that much hurry. It's a long, long walk to town from here, after all..."

Her voice echoed both aloud and in his mind. "... why not ease some of this tension I'm feeling?"

Ben squirmed, or tried to. He sometimes had a tiny amount of control over his right hand, when Lucy wasn’t thinking about it, but right now she was moving with delicate intent as both hands grazed over the slight tent in the front of their trousers.

"Well? What do you think?" Lucienne's voice was as warm and innocent as a sunbeam. "Pleasure always feels so good in this hot body of ours, and you know, I’m pretty sure nobody's really taken care of it since... you know, since her~"

Ben would have whimpered if he could have. The mention of her had made their cock twitch. Gods, it had been a while since they’d played, and he was so horny...

"G-Go ahead," he heard himself gasp, as Lucienne’s fingertips grazed over the twitching cock.

Lucienne gave a smug laugh. "Thought so~"

She began to stroke, rubbing first through the pants, then slipping a soft hand beneath to grasp the cock directly. Internally, helpless to do anything to stop her, Ben whimpered and gasped with every touch.

"Gosh," she murmured with a sly smirk, "how long has it been, sweetie?"


"Oh, hush. You don't have to tell me, silly..." Her hand slid under their pants and started to pump their cock steadily. Ben’s spirit quivered as molten pleasure began to flow through their body. "A-Ah! I... I know how neglected you are these days~" She gave a light little laugh, as internally Ben moaned and drooled.

L-Lucy,” he panted, “ c-can't...

“Why not?" she asked sweetly. “Because someone might see?” She sped up her stroking with a giggle. "Nobody takes this road, Ben. Are you gonna let a little bashfulness get in the way of feeling so, sooo good?"

Lucyyy,” he whined.

"Well?" Lucienne asked, purring with pleasure as their cock twitched and throbbed beneath her touch. "D-Do you want to be modest, or do you want..." Her voice dropped to a husky moan. "... to feel good?

Ben tried to resist… and then realized he had no idea why he would want to, save for some misplaced need to not let Lucy get the better of him. And oh, that need was so, so misplaced indeed when letting her always win felt soooo good…

“F-Feel good,” he whimpered.

"I thought so," Lucy said smugly.

And she took her hand away.

Ben’s spirit went still. Then, realizing what was happening, his voice became tinged with trembling nerves. “H-Hey, Lucy—"

He heard the mischievous ghost laughing in his head. “Ben, you're literally too easy. I don't know what you'd do without me looking after you."

Lucy!"" Ben protested, flustered and more turned on than he dared admit—not that there was any hiding it from his current ‘guest’.

“What? We have to get back to town." Lucienne gestured to the woods. “And I'm not walking through the forest for sixteen more miles with our cock drooling. I know how this body gets, Ben. I mean, you’re already a mess."

A-And whose fault is that?

"Doesn't pay to go pointing fingers. These sorts of things happen."

Lucy! I know you’re just as horny, damn it, just—

“Hey, I just got a great idea!” Lucienne chirped, as she hopped nimbly over a wild rosebush and entered the shadowy forest—their shortcut back to town, hopefully. She stopped to stretch leisurely and gave a great feline yawn. “You've been slacking in your dailies lately. Why don't we give this body a little workout?”

Lucy! Lucy! This is not fair!

Lucienne took off at a brisk jog, giggling. “Just think of it as motivation to get home soon, Ben. Me, I’m not constantly obsessed with getting off, so I want to appreciate some of our body’s other sensual delights while we have such easy access to nature’s wonders~”


“See you when we’re home, Ben!”

~ ~ ~ ~

It had scarcely been ten minutes when Ben found himself in full control again. The ghost of Lucy flitted out of his body, cheeks flushed a bright burgundy. "Ugh. Why can't your body learn to jog without that awful pulling-down feeling?"

“It's called gravity, Lucy." Sighing, Ben reached into his pockets and turned out the radom assortment of pinecones and ‘interesting rocks’ Lucy had absentmindedly stuffed in there during the jog. “Didn't you learn to deal with it when you were, you know... alive?"

The ghost pouted, flitting from side to side of him in a frustrated pacing as he started walking. “Flying is just the ideal form of running. I'm out of practice with your basic, overpriced-early-access-beta-testing version." She grinned and wagged her finger. "Hey, don't think this means you can get out of training! Start jogging!"

"Yeah, I'm, uh, calling your bluff here." Ben kept walking at a relaxed pace. "It's a nice forest. No reason not to take our time. We can’t jog the whole way back."

"Uuuugghhhh." Lucy pulled her face unnaturally long, her spectral form warping like putty. “It’s gonna take forever.”

“You should have possessed a segway or something.”

Lucy sniffed. “I would sooner die. Or un-die. Be alive again? I don’t know.” She paused. “Fine, we’ll go slow.”

"Sounds good. Besides," he shot a narrowed glance at the ghost, "I'm pretty sure you got us pretty lost here."

"What! I so did not!" Lucy’s pout vanished in an instant, replaced with a red-faced indignant scowl. "We're on a trail, aren't we?"

"Could be." Ben eyed the path skeptically. "It's so overgrown, it might as well be a deer path. I th—" He paused, then bent down, squinting. "Hey, there's tracks!"

"Yeah? What kind?" Lucy's tone rang with sudden curiosity as her head stuck over his shoulder to look. "Mountain lion? Bear? A couple dozen feral boars?"

“Always so pessimistic."

What? I've never seen any of those things up close before.” Lucy shrugged. “Could be exciting. Say, do you suppose if I possessed, like, a snake, it'd still grow—

"Human tracks, I think," Ben said quickly. He frowned. "But they’re barefoot. Weird. They look fresh, though." He straightened. "I wonder if they're up the trail?"

Ooh, you can go get directions, since you got us lost!” Ben shot Lucy a scowl. “Um, I mean, since we're lost like we are, by pure unfortunate happenstance.” She giggled sheepishly. “Guess you won’t need my help for that, of course. The asking-for-directions thing, I mean.

"Yeah. Probably not. But good idea." Ben looked at her and couldn’t help but smile. "I'm guessing you want to explore?"

She gave a guilty smile. "How'd you guess?"

Her incorporeal form seemed to vibrate with contained energy.

Ben knew his friend/tormentor/mentor well enough to know when they needed some space from each other. She was in one of her extra-fey moods, and there was a lot of stimulus suddenly available the normally city-bound specter. He gestured outward with a wave of his hand. "Go on, Lucy. I'll go find this hiker. Or, like, nudist, or giant bipedal raccoon, or whoever they are. You get a lay of the land and maybe, I dunno, make sure this path is headed in the right direction."

Lucy's face brightened. "Sounds good! An excellent plan.” She performed a sweeping bow, then sprang up into the air.

Ben bit his lip. “But—hey, stay close!”

“I’ll definitely do that!” she called back, needlessly yelling right into his mind. Ben winced “Close as a button to its coat!

~ ~ ~ ~

Lucy swooped between the branches of the tall forest canopy, giggling as much with relief as delight. By far the former star runner's favorite thing about accidentally driving her car into a baling press and finding her spirit trapped in the webbing of the mortal world like a fly's husk not yet discarded by the cosmic spider had to be the wonderful experience of flight. Honestly, she felt silly for having spent her whole life running when she could have been zooming through the air like a hummingbird.

She did try to keep a visual on Ben, of course. The silly boy was sure to get into trouble without her around. After all, he was always getting into so much trouble with her around, Lucy couldn't even imagine how many sticky situations he'd be getting into without his helpful ghostly guide.

Not that he could go far from her while wearing her left shoe, but still.

She smiled as she watched him picking his way carefully down the path after the footprints. With that adorable butt, and the way he stammered from the slightest teasing... She missed being able to properly reward boys like that, but having such steady access to a cutie like Ben, she couldn’t really complain. It helped that Ben basically never got any action except from her. Honestly, she had a lot more to teach the boy than simple track-and-field.

As she was considering what they’d do to educate Ben a little when they got home, a strange sound plucked her out of the reverie. She looked up sharply, head twitching to the side.

It wasn't the rustling of branches, exactly. It was a sibilant, rattling sound, almost like radio static.

Her whole form flickered as she tried to listen closer, triangulate the sound's source. Forgetting for a moment about Ben, and ignoring the slight tugging at her left foot encouraging her to stay close to her ghostly anchor, she wafted up and over the branches, straying off the path, following something she didn't fully understand.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ben couldn't hear Lucy whooping and giggling up above, which he guessed meant she'd seen something shiny and gone off to 'investigate'.

He sighed. That ghost got up to way too much trouble for someone who'd already died and ought to know better. He didn't slow his pace; Lucy's bond to the shoe would guide her back even if she lost track of him.

As he went down the forest trail, he wondered at the footprints. Who really walked around a forest barefoot? Sure, this place was kept clear of invasive brambles, but still, there were... sticks and things. Rocks. Not to mention mud. He grimaced as his shoe sank deep into a puddle he hadn’t noticed. Yeah, maybe he really did need to take better care of these old things.

The footprints were getting deeper, and fresher. This encouraged him, and he sped up a little. Even though the thought of talking to a stranger made him anxious, the thought of being lost in this old forest after dark made him even moreso.

Ben hurried down the path as it wound through a veritable thicket of tall, densely-growing ferns, only to stop as the footprints seemed to come to a halt.

He frowned down at the final pair. They led to a large fern plant on the side of the path, which, he noticed, looking closer, seemed to have several of its larger fronds quite cleanly cut. The cuts look fresh—they were still wet to the touch, even.

Ben frowned at the fern, then looked up in the direction the footprints had seemingly gone.

Why had they wandered off the path?

Something felt off. An uneasy muttering had begun at the back of his head, a little tickle of fear, a sense that he needed to be not here. At first, he’d brushed it off as social anxiety, but it was growing by the second.

Calm down, he told himself. They’re probably just… I don’t know, a botanist or something. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

He froze. Wait, was that…

Hesitantly, gut churning with dread, he gave the air a little sniff.

His eyes widened, and without hesitation, he dropped to his hands and knees. His heart was racing.

Something in the air smelled… nice. Very nice.

And not just nice.


It was almost like mint, or lavender, or catnip. It had a mustiness to it, though, an earthy musk that made the head swim helplessly towards thoughts of bodies touching bodies, rubbing, grinding...

And then, as he heard a rustle from up ahead, Ben's heart stopped. His eyes settled on a tall, curvaceous figure emerging from the shadows of the bushes.

Oh, no, he thought, oh, no, no, no, not her!

His cock, however, had begun to stir in excited recognition.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lucy had found the source of the noise. She blinked at it, head tilting to the side, form glitching slightly in intense thought.

A little effigy of sticks, pinecones and twine hung from the branches of an especially tall ponderosa pine. Violet threads bound it in a complex spiderweb of patterned knots, dangling it on its stomach from four long braided lengths of thread. It was about the size of a small cat. And it was moving.

The effigy was hollow, and there was something inside it. Lucy squinted, watching the little silvery flames flicker and spark from within. Every now and then, the flames would flare, and the effigy would kick and swing slightly from its strings. That was when it made the staticky rattling noises that had caught Lucy's attention.

She drifted closer, chewing her lower lip, keeping a careful distance in case the effigy swung towards her. Not that such a small or simple effigy could truly bind her, as it had done to this little wisp sprite. Still, it might hurt.

She flitted up to the four branches the wisp sprite was hanging from and regarded them uncertainly. It wasn’t that she couldn’t affect physical objects, exactly—though it was easier when she was closer to her anchor—but being ‘physical’ wouldn’t protect her from the effigy’s effects. If only Ben were closer, she could perhaps possess a nearby squirrel and chew through the twine, but she didn't have the energy for that kind of maneuver this far from her shoe. And she’d very foolishly chosen to die on the day she’d just clipped her nails, so untying tight knots was a total pain.

Instead, she reached out and grasped a fresh pinecone, plucking it from the tree and tossing it in her hand. It was young and full of water and sap, solid, heavy. Perfect.

Squinting, she reeled back and flung the pinecone at the effigy. It smashed into the pinecone-head with a satisfying crunch, the dry, brittle fibers snapping apart easily.

There was a loud rattling stream of static following this, and the effigy swung wildly from its tether. The effigy quivered, vibrated, and exploded in a shower of silver sparks.

Lucy almost reflexively flinched at the flying twig shrapnel as it passed through her. The sprite burst out and soared up into the air, and Lucy watched with a laugh as it performed a couple somersaults before coming to hover before her. It chittered happily.

Despite her amusement, and her satisfaction at freeing the poor little thing, Lucy felt a little uneasy. Wisp sprites weren't quite ghosts—they were something between ghost and fairy, alien and trivial. But trapping one like this still took skill, and will. She'd heard that soul hunters sometimes caught and bound them for use in minor cantrips, for practice or sport, or even just because they saw the creatures as pests.

Soul hunting, though, was a very, very uncommon profession.

Had Lucy's heart still been beating, it would have begun to race.

The wisp sprite sped off, to do whatever it was wisp sprites did when they weren’t being trapped in little wicker effigies. Lucy, after a moment's hesitation, turned and sped off in the opposite direction, straight back towards Ben.

There was only one soul hunter in the area she knew of that used magenta thread in her bindings.

And if this was who Lucy thought it was, she and Ben were about to be in a lot of trouble.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ben crouched behind the large fern, heart pounding in his chest. How can she be here? Is this where she's been since—

He forced the thought down, cursing his tantalizing memories. The last thing he needed to do was start reminiscing about the... the last time.

She was right there. Sashaying casually between the shrubs, humming an eerie tune as she casually plucked colorful, no-doubt poisonous berries and dropped them into a little basket. Her long slitted purple dress, flowing and elegant, was also basically just a few bolts of fabric sewn together in a rough facsimile of clothing that left nothing to the imagination save the concept of modesty.

Her outfit seemed almost comically impractical for her environment. Yet Ben couldn't see a single smudge of dirt or pollen on it. Nor on her flawless pale lavender skin, her long, shapely legs leading up to her wide, swinging hips, her narrow waist and her smooth, pearlescent breasts, her cleavage bared low over her tight corset...

Ben's mouth snapped shut, and he licked his lips and forced his eyes away from her figure. Just stay quiet, he told himself urgently, trying desperately to avoid thinking about his increasingly interested cock, the way his heart was no longer pounding out of fear, but fluttering with tantalized nerves... Just stay quiet and wait for her to pass. She'll definitely keep walking. She hasn't seen you. Keep it that way.

Above all, he knew, he had to keep her eyes away from him. Had to keep his eyes away from her. Away from her eyes.

He gulped, louder than he intended. At least, he told himself it was louder than he'd intended. His whole body yearned to do the very opposite of what was in his best interest. He trembled with the effort of not rustling just accidentally a little too loudly, even knowing what would happen if he did. Even knowing the consequences for poor stealth would be wonderful, mind-melting pleasure…

Endless obedient pleasure beneath her beautiful emerald-green eyes...

He gulped again, louder this time, and immediately cursed himself. Stop it! His mind was in a panic. These stupid, impulsive acts would doom him and damn him. Damn him to endless servitude, endless...

He forced his eyes to the ground, away from the enticing figure. She was starting to walk away, from the sounds of things. He just needed to keep his senses and stop being a fool for a few moments more...

“Ben!” Lucy's voice blared in his mind like a siren, almost making him jump. “Ben, there’s a situation!”

The voice was so loud to him, Ben looked up instinctively, sure the woman had heard. But Lucy was speaking in his mind, using the one-way connection her shoe offered. Still, he tried to implore her to stop screaming at him—

—and then he saw her zooming straight down towards him from the treetops.

His heart slammed in his chest. Moira had turned away briefly, but she could turn around and see Lucy at any moment! The ghost was bright blue, for pity’s sake!

Ben, can you hear me?" the ghost shouted, her eyes wide as she dove straight towards him. "We've got—"”

She grabbed his hand, and desperately, Ben pulled her into him, let her possess him, desperate to conceal her from view—


As their form finished shifting, Lucienne’s voice rang out clear as a windchime in the silent forest.

And Lucienne, no longer under Ben’s control whatsoever, froze stiff.

"Uh-oh," she whispered.

And a warm, sensuous voice melted into their ears like hot, trickling plum syrup—thick, sugary-sweet, and with just the slightest touch of tartness.

"Well, well," the voice purred from behind them, “funny running into you again, love~”

Slowly, heart racing, Lucienne turned to face the seductress.

And Moira smiled at them, eyes glimmering many beautiful hues of green.

“H-Hi, Moira,” Lucienne stammered.

And Moira's smile widened to a broad, predatory grin.

~ ~ ~ ~

Lucienne took a step back, staring at the taller witch with wide, panicked eyes. She felt like a rabbit in a snare, even though, she desperately reminded their stiffening limbs, they weren't caught yet! And they'd only stay that way if they started moving, fast!

“I-It's nice to see you again,” she said with a falsely bright smile. She was always put a little off-balance when first possessing Ben—the wash of his emotions combined with the sudden sensory overload was hard to negotiate, and it tended to leave her a little disoriented. “How long’s it been? You know, since we beat you and left you in the dust that one time?” She put a finger to her lips in mock thought. “Or was it two times? Gosh, I keep losing count!”

She adopted a cocky pose, one hand on her hip, as her control over Ben's body solidified. She was getting ready to run, but she needed just a few seconds more to adjust to the stupid gravity thing, or else she'd risk falling flat on her face. And she knew what happened from experience when she fell down around Moira.

Moira often made it a little hard to get back up.

Moira only smiled wanly at this taunt, one eyebrow arching. "Oh, it has been such a long time, if that's how you remember it, little spirit~" She gave a low, husky laugh. “Maybe you need a little refresher?" Her voice dropped to a teasing coo. "You know I’m always happy to help, if you'd only ask."

"H-Haha." Lucienne cursed the little tremor in her laugh as she took another step back, as much out of nerves as to test the certainty of her footfalls. Moira was still a few paces away, but with every step the gorgeous soul hunter took towards them, Lucienne’s certainty that she could outrun Moira before a spell was cast grew weaker. "Yeah, sure, maybe, we'll schedule that for February twenty-ninth."

Without warning, she spun on her toes and broke into a sprint, her words coming out as a babbled torrent behind her, "Ohdangit'snotaleapyearWELP—"

She was actually in mid-leap when Moira's hand latched onto on her wrist and firmly yanked her back.

Lucienne squeaked in surprise. She flailed, but the soul hunter just smiled at her. Her grip was like iron. "Oh, come now, why the rush?" Moira purred. "Moira has plenty of time to spare for a lovely pet like you."

Lucienne squirmed beneath that hungry gaze, biting their lip. She hated people being taller than her at the best of times. "Y-Yeah, I don't think I—" She tried to tear her eyes from Moira’s as familiar green spirals started to appear. "I-I—I don't think—"

"Oh, yes, of course you don't!" Moira cooed, making Lucienne flush angrily. "You don’t have to think at all, now, pet. That's right, no thoughts at aaall~"

"Nnnngh!" Lucienne hated how her voice came out as a whine. She realized she hadn't actually looked away yet only when those pretty spirals started to deepen.

L-Lucy, look away,” Ben whispered urgently in her mind. “We can’t… she’s, um…

Moira was still holding Lucienne by the hand, gently, now, as if she sensed force was no longer needed. Her smile was widening as distinct bright green spirals began to swirl in those pretty eyes of hers, and Lucienne gasped in recognition. "Thaaat's right, the soul hunter cooed, her voice dripping with smug delight, "thaaat's it, angel, so gooood for Moira~"

"N-Nooo..." Lucy and Ben both knew the dangers of gazing into Moira's beautiful, addictive eyes very well. Lucienne heard how weak her voice sounded, and her cheeks burned in embarrassment, but it was so hard to—to think—

“Oh, but you can't reeesissst," Moira purred with a light trill to her voice, leaning in closer. Her eyes were steadily filling with spirals of greater complexity, beautiful, ineffable. "Don't you see that Moira has you now? You know no one can resist me, especially not you.” Her eyes spiraled, endless beautiful hues of green circling inward, pulling Lucienne’s thoughts deeper, deeper… deeper… “You remember~"

Lucy tried to step back, tried to resist the hypnotic spell, but suddenly her feet... weren't really obeying her anymore. Her spirit squirmed within Lucienne's body beneath Moira's powerful, irresistible gaze.

"That's right," Moira cooed,licking her lips, "just stare into my eyes, my pet. You’re already sinking sooo deeeeply into them. Just..." Her eyes seemed to start spiraling in the other direction, twisting like a crocodile rolling in the water with its prey, and Lucy felt her whole mind lurching in dizzied confusion. "... focus on Moira's voice~"

"... focus... MMMoirahh’s... vuh—v-voice..." Lucienne heard her voice come out dim and slurred, and felt her cheeks going very hot. She couldn't pull clear, couldn't help herself. It felt so good to stare, to feel the sensations of Moira’s will pouring into their minds, flooding her thoughts and pulling them deeper… deeper…

She squirmed and fluttered against the grip of Moira's gaze like an fly in treesap, all the while feeling Moira’s power over her thickening into amber.

"Yesss," Moira hissed, "look into my eyes, listen to my voice... let Moira’s words wrap around you like a cozy blanket, dumb, needy little specter.”

“Nuhh… needy…” Lucienne whispered.

“Soon you'll be mine,” the soul hunter cooed. “Aaaaall Moira’s. Just breathe in her scent, love, let it make you nice and weak and pliable..."

Lucy internally cursed her newfound intense sensations as she helplessly breathed in, drowned herself in that intoxicating minty musk. She was so close, and try as she might, all she could do to escape Moira's eyes was to force her gaze down...

... down...

... into Moira's beautiful, bouncing breasts.

Moira chuckled smugly, and out of the corner of her eye, Lucienne saw her lick her lips. "Would you rather look at Moira's lovely tits? Quite the slutty little wisp, aren’t you? You know how easily I’ll get to control you with these!”

Lucienne whined.

As if sensing weakness, Moira leaned in closer, bouncing her breasts in Lucienne’s face—she wasn’t even holding Lucienne’s hand anymore, but Lucienne could only stare and drool. “You know,” she murmured slyly, “how easily my tits master your mind.”


“How easy they own you.”

Lucienne’s lips parted in a wordless moan.

“How easy my tits control you.”

"... tits... control me..." Lucienne's voice was a moan, and she shivered at the intense, deep arousal in her voice, the arousal filling her body and sending tingles through her every nerve. She could dimly hear Ben, deep in her subconscious, echoing her own words. He could feel everything she felt, she knew.

And she felt so, so good.

Lucienne watched dumbly as Moira reached out and took her by the chin with one hand, guided her to watch as, with the other, Moira cupped one of her own breasts and bounced it teasingly in her hand, so soft, so squishy and bouncy and…

Hhheavyy,” Lucienne slurred, realizing that she was echoing some suggestion from Moira she hadn’t even consciously registered. Her head lolled, allowing Moira to support her, as she gazed with a wide, adoring smile across at Moira’s beautiful, irresistible tits.

“Yes, yes, yes," Moira chanted in a sensuous purr, her hand guiding Lucienne to lean in closer, closer, utterly spellbound, "ssstare into Moira's tits. Let them take over. Silly little slutty spirits like you shouldn't be in control, should they?"

"N-No..." Lucienne whispered.

“Who should be in control?” Moira’s voice was as sweet and sticky as flypaper.

“Mmmoiirraaahh,” Lucienne moaned.


T-Titss control meee,” Lucienne cooed happily.

"Good pet."

Lucienne could feel her whole spirit going calm, and only a tiny piece of her still fought the urge to surrender. It felt so, so good, but… no, she had to... had to resist! If the soul hunter caught her... caught Ben…

“That’s right,” Moira purred, and Lucienne felt her face being guided to rest between Moira’s perfect breasts, “and you want more, don’t you? More of Moira’s control. It feels so good, doesn’t it, to sink into Moira’s power and obey Moira’s tits?”

"D-Did... anyone ever tell you... third p-person's kinda weird..." Lucienne whimpered, her attempt at a repartee sounding weak and forced even to her.

Moira just smirked and stroked Lucienne’s hair, and Lucienne felt herself going limp, breathing in deep of Moira’s addictive musk…

Thoughts of exquisite pleasure were already trickling through her docile, placid mind, but mustering what little she had left, she thrashed and squirmed. "N-No!" she cried, and tore her gaze away from those breasts.

In a feat of unspeakable willpower, Lucienne pulled away, wrenched out of Moira’s grasp. She hesitated a moment, surprised even at herself. Then she spun and took off running back into the—

into the…



hadn't moved.

Lucienne lay there in Moira’s arms, as limp as a sleepy kitten, and moaned as she felt Moira pet her hair, as she breathed in more of Moira’s addictive perfume. She hadn’t moved an inch.

Lucy's heart raced. But… she had! She was sure she had. “Ben,” she whispered, “I c-can’t—what’s—

"Hush," Moira purred with a wide, smug smile, bouncing her breasts around Lucienne’s head until Lucienne was left drooling, gazing up adoringly into Moira’s eyes. "You’ve been such a good girl, and I’m gonna give you plenty of rewards in a little while.”

Lucienne tried to speak, but her whole form was vibrating, and she realized too late that she was losing her grip, that Ben was being guided to push her out—

“But for now,” Moira purred, “Moira needs to make sure the boy knows how to be as good a pet as you’ve been. And you’ve been soooo good, softening him up for me~”

Lucienne whimpered silently, feeling herself slipping deep, deep to the back of Ben’s mind…

"Ssso... good..." she heard Ben moan.

She kept thrashing within their body, but it was like with every breath of poisoned air, with every bounce of Moira's breasts, with every intoxicating word past Moira's plump lips, her control lessened. Like Moira was... pushing her out...

The world around them was shifting, morphing, twisting and simplifying. The trees turned into minimalist sticks and black silhouette poles jutting out of the swirling green mists that surrounded them. Pink mists began to rise around them.

"Oh, no, no, no," Lucy whispered in Ben’s mind, realizing where they were being pulled. ""Ben, snap out of it! She's pulling us into the subspace! We have to—"

"That's right, sweet boy," Moira cooed, ignoring Lucy's protests and cradling Ben's face in her hands as he drooled, and Lucy could see their eyes reflected in Moira’s, filled with beautiful spirals to match as they stared up into her eyes with a look of pure, dumb adoration, "let Moira fill your mind with pleeasssure~"

"Hhnnmoiraahh..." Ben slurred.

And with a thrumming sensation, Lucy found herself shunted right out of their shared body and into the open air of the subspace, leaving Ben alone in Lucienne's body and susceptible to Moira's sweet temptations.

Her eyes widened, and she tried to leap back in, but tendrils of rosy mist snaked around her, taking advantage of her disorientation. She thrashed as they wrapped around her tighter, immersing her in their sweet, gentle embrace. She kicked at them, but her feet only passed through the vapors. Pleasure began to flood her mind as her head was pulled into their midst.

Ben!” she cried. Dimly through the sugary-sweet haze, she could see Ben staring up wide-eyed at Moira, his eyes swirling many beautiful shades of green.

Had Lucy had a beating heart, it would have been pounding in her ghostly chest.

This was very, very bad.



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