Everything felt very, very good to Ben right now.

Ben was in heaven. He moaned and drooled and stared open-mouthed up into Moira's beautiful eyes as the lovely witch petted his hair—like he was a favored but rambunctious pet that had just learned to heel. She leaned in close with a wide, triumphant smile. "Yes," she murmured smugly, caressing his cheek, "you’ll be such a goooooood pet for Moira now, won't you? It’s just you and me."

"uunnhh... Moira..." Ben's head lolled, and he would have swooned if he could, but the swirling colorful mists around them seemed to prop up his limp body, wrapping around him and keeping him safe and warm in Moira's clutches.

"Aw, so eeeeasy!" Moira exclaimed, and she laughed, a low, throaty laugh that sent tingles up Ben's spine and down to the tips of his fingers. "Your will’s just dripping away like batter on my fingers, my sweeet~"

"gguhh... yess..." Ben's voice was slurred and incoherent. His tongue felt like a sticky weight. his lips felt like they weren't his own. He felt utterly powerless. His chest continued to rise and fall, immersing himself deeper and deeper in Moira's scent, her voice, her intoxicating power...

"Yes?" Moira giggled, and her smirk widened. "Yes, you're easy for me? So you agree?"

Her taunting coo sent shivers through Ben's whole body, made his cock twitch and stiffen against its confines. He felt so embarrassed, so small, but he just couldn't fight. Moira was too powerful. Too beautiful. Too... too...

As her grin widened, her eyes began to spiral inwards again, deeper and deeper, slower and slower, as if she were drawing the words right out of him, like a spider pulling at a strand of her web to bring close the fly…

"yesss," he moaned, barely remembering the question. Nonetheless, his cheeks burned. He knew it had to be something degrading, something shameful, from how Moira’s grin widened at his helpless response. "yess, you're… you’re s-so right, Moira..."

"Of course I am!" she cooed. "Moira is always right. Moira is so very much smarter than dumb, silly boys."

Ben moaned and drooled, cursing his weakness but helpless to those eyes, helpless to that husky, velvety purr. And beautiful girls had been controlling him an awful lot lately… it almost felt like it must be true.

"Sooooo easy," she whispered with a big, arrogant grin—a grin Ben wanted to be frustrated with, knew he ought to be infuriated towards, but oh, gods, it felt so good to lose to her again...

"easy," he whimpered. As Moira leaned in closer, her scent became overpowering, driving all thoughts away but those of her beauty, of her husky voice dripping with lust, of her tight and yet silken-gloved grip upon his will. His eyes sank helplessly to her luscious lips, her massive, glimmering breasts...

"Just imagine," she purred, unbearably pleased at where his gaze had descended, "how easy everything will feel..."

Ben gasped. His eyes shot back to Moira's spiraling depths, and his whole world shimmered and melted as if staring through terrible burning heat. "M-Moira," he whimpered.

Her fingers had sunk below without him even noticing.

He quivered and whined and licked his lips, heart beginning to race as her finger

traced

ever-so-delicately

through his trousers

along his throbbing, pleading erection.

"... when you are under Moira's thumb," the witch said sweetly.

The magical world around them began to bend and warp—not just in Ben's imagining. The mists of Moira's subspace were swirling to delicate peaks like freshly whipped cream, and Ben felt himself being plucked from the ground by a sloping reclining armchair chair, an impossibly soft grip that eased him onto his back, that hugged him tight and encouraged him to go totally limp.

Every ounce of Ben's will was squirming in Moira's grasp like a little serpent, and he tried so hard not to yield. The awareness sounded like incessant bells in his mind that if he surrendered now, if he lay back in her domain, she would make him hers. Maybe forever.

But her fingertips coaxed him, tamed him, stroked his will like a little kitten. He whimpered and mewled in helpless pleasure as he melted into the warm embrace of her magic and settled back onto the chair.

“You know where you are now," Moira purred, "don't you?"

"Y-Your... su… subspace..." Ben's voice was like molten goo, dripping from his lips as his tongue lolled, slurred and nearly incomprehensible.

"That's right!" Moira gave a sinister chuckle. She descended over him, straddling his hips. Her fingers lingered between their legs, continuing their wicked, tantalizing stroking along his cock. Up and down. Up and down. "You're in Moira's domain now, little pet. It’s just you and me. And do you know what that means?"

Ben trembled and whimpered. He couldn't look away from her breasts now—they hung over him, jiggling, enticing and irresistible. His whole world lay between them, bounced and squished between them as his mind went softer and softer, as his cokc went harder and harder...

"I control everything in here," Moira cooed, "don’t I? " Her finger stroked up to the base. "And that means Moira controls you," Her finger stroked down, slowly, achingly slowly, to the tip, and swirled slowly around it, "doesn't it?"

"guhh… yesss, hhmmmoirrraa...."

Ben couldn't fight it. He never could have fought it. He was Moira's. He was in her domain, trapped beneath her. Trapped beneath those gorgeous, angelic tits...

"Here, I can conjure whatever pleases me," Moira purred, leaning in closer, giggling as he brainlessly ogled her breasts without any capacity to stop even as he blushed and squirmed beneath her touch. He knew he was drooling. He couldn’t stop. "Whatever. Pleases. Moira~"

"ppleeeasse Moirraa…"

"Please?" Moira smirked. "Please what, my sweet boy?" She leaned in closer and reached down, tugging down the neckline of her dress, allowing her breasts to come spilling out—full and jiggling and soft, yielding, inviting, their scent blanketing Ben in an intoxicating cocktail of surrender.

Ben's eyes crossed. His tongue lolled. A trail of drool dripped down his chin. He could only stare in simple, hopeless, helpless, utterly subdued desire. "gguhh..."

"Please what, little toy?" Moira sang, and she reached down and slipped her hand under his trousers, wrapped her hand around his cock. "Please Moira? Is that what you want to do? My, my, such eagerness!"

Ben moaned brainlessly. He gawked at the flawless, heavy, cushiony tits, drooling, panting, feeling them filling his mind with soft, pillowy perfection, squishing every other thought into limp submission…

... and Moira gave his cock a long, indulgent pump, and he came.

It was humiliating. Ben couldn't help it. Even as he felt his pants vanishing away into the mists, he moaned and mewled, red-faced with the heat of wonderful, embarrassing pleasure. He drowned in it, his cock spurting so early, his eyes locked needily on Moira's breasts. He bucked in senseless bliss, unbearable ecstasy pouring into his mind and briefly incapacitating it.

He sank into afterglow, drooling and moaning. Every now and then his cock twitched and dribbled weakly, and he could instinctively tell it was already ready to go again.

He was so deep under, not even his docile, Moira-puppeted mind had the strength to push Lucy out anymore.

~ ~ ~ ~

"F-Finally!" Lucienne burst out. She glared and shoved Moira off of her—the witch floated up into the air, looking startled—and sat up abruptly. She felt Ben’s head swimming a little from the sudden motion, but she wasn’t letting him drive anymore, not for a long time, with how easily he’d clearly given in. Her heart was pounding. "Nice try, Moira! You can't—"

Her eyes fixed as Moira swung back upright, causing her fat tits to bounce and wobble. "—take—"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Moira's smile return, wider and smugger than ever. The breasts jiggled and slowly settled. "—me down—" Lucienne squeaked.

Moira drifted closer, and Lucienne scooted away, only to find violet twine wrapping around her and Ben’s combined form's legs from the enchanted chair, loosely entangling them. The breasts drew nearer, quivering with every motion. "... that..."

Her voice trailed off to a whisper. Moira’s tits hung before her, so heavy, those pert nipples just below her eye level.

"Eeeeasy?" Moira cooed.

Lucienne squirmed.

Moira descended back towards her, her smile widening as she drew out a stick of pink chalk. "So sweet of you to join us, little specter," she purred, eyes sparkling with delight. "There was no need to be in such a rush, though! I did say I’d take care of you." Her voice rose to a sultry, condescending coo. "Were you feeling left out?"

"N-No," Lucienne stammered, "I-I was... was..."

"... wondering how it felt, perhaps," Moira murmured silkily, as she landed to straddle Lucienne—precisely, Lucienne thought, biting her lip, just as she had Ben a moment ago.

Lucienne felt her heart fluttering in her chest, and cursed that she suddenly had one that could be so easily won. Moira's tits bounced up and down before her eyes, keeping her vision firmly fixed no matter how she implored them to look away. They were so beautiful, so… shimmery…

Why should she need to look away, anyways? She told herself it was silly. She was fine. Moira couldn't... do anything to her, really. Ben was the one in trouble. And now Ben was safe. Following Ben into the subspace was always tricky—the place was so suffused with magic, it always took a minute to find its frequencies and manifest properly, to keep the inherent magic from miring her like sticky syrupy quicksand—but now that she'd made it, Ben was safe.

And since she was only borrowing this body, she was safe, too. A soul catcher couldn't do anything to...

Her mouth watered as Moira leaned in close, smirking, her hand reaching around to stroke Lucienne’s hair—her hands were so soft—and guide her head down towards Moira's beautiful tits...

…couldn’t… ... do... anything... to her... as long as she was safe in Ben's body...

... right?

"I’m not surprised you followed us in, cute little specter," Moira whispered, as Lucienne unthinkingly licked her lips. "It pleases Moira to have you here."

Lucienne panted and wriggled. These bindings were nothing. They were just for show. Lucienne was strong. She could... break free easily.

She could break free anytime.

And if she could break free anytime, she reasoned to herself dumbly, admiring those perfect, flawless dark royal-purple nipples and half-wondering if Moira had milk to taste, surely... surely there wasn’t any hurry...

"And everyone," Moira cooed, "wants to please Moira, don't they?"

She took Lucienne by the chin and tilted her head up to meet Moira's eyes. Lucienne whimpered as her gaze was dragged from Moira’s chest, but the sound melted into a sigh almost instantly.

For now she found herself gazing straight into those beautiful, irresistible, inescapable spiraling eyes.

"Even you~" Moira said sweetly. “Especially you~”

Lucienne gulped.

Moira was still holding the chalk in one hand. Lucienne would have wondered why, but the tiny piece of her mind not drowning in those lovely whirlpool eyes was a little too busy wondering what Moira was going to do with that other hand creeping between Lucienne’s legs.

"Such a pretty form you two take," Moira was cooing, her fingers toying along Lucienne's length. Lucienne whimpered—this body had already cum, but in Moira's world, with Moira's magic... oh, fuck, the living sensations were always so intense, she was never ready for how they surged into her like this... "I love this pretty toy you've brought toy! Such a good girl."

Lucienne shivered. "Th-Than—" She bit the words back, blushing. What are you doing? Don't thank her!

But Moira's eyes widened slightly in recognition, and she licked her lips with a big, arrogant smile. "My goodness, pet, you're giving in even easier than he did!"

"Wh—buh—" Lucienne flushed and squirmed, as much from the stroking as from her own embarrassing degradation. She gasped as the stroking sped up a little, breathed in more intoxicating pheromones. Her whole mind was turning into goo.

"Why don't you come out," Moira cooed, "and face me yourself? Since you're sssooooo confident." Her finger twirled and swirled around Lucienne’s tip.

"I—you—" Lucienne's tongue was leaden in her mouth as she watched Moira's eyes spiral, the swirls taking Lucienne deeper and deeper...

"You can't resist me.” Moira smiled as she leaned in close. “But maybe you just like to try so you get the exquisite pleasure of losing.”

"I—I—" Lucienne tried to shake her head, but Moira's right hand held her, and Moira's left hand tormented her, stroked up and down her cock, and she felt her head bobbing senselessly, drunken with pleasure…

“Or,” Moira added sweetly, “maybe you’re just pretending for his sake, so he won’t think you just gave in.”

Lucienne whimpered. Moira's words seemed to trickle into her ears and straight into her mind, her deeper mind, her deepest and most secret desires. She squirmed and bit her lip, desperate not to drool like Ben had, but those held her, made it so hard to control her own body, so hard to resist… those... eyes...

"But you don’t need to worry, pet." Moira smiled wickedly, caressing Lucienne’s cheek, her every sung word echoing around Lucienne and washing over her like warm syrup, smooth and sweet and heavy and so, so easy to get lost in. “Becausse sooner or later, you will give. You will break.”

"g-give… bbreakk..." Lucienne's tongue lolled as the spirals deepened, pulling her further in, deeper down into the beautiful whirlpools of green. She knew she was wearing a stupidly happy expression, a humiliatingly eager glaze in her eyes, a big, dumb smile spreading across her blushing cheeks, and that was so embarrassing, but but it also just... felt... so good...

And up and down the fingers stroked, delicate, teasing, tormenting Lucienne with exquisite pleasure as they ran over her tip. “And if you’re going to give in eventually,” the witch cooed, “who’s going to suspect that you let yourself give in a little early?” Moira's voice was relentless, ringing in Lucienne’s ears, her sugary tones intoxicating, irresistible. Inescapable. Merciless. “It would feel so good to just give in and be mine, wouldn’t it?”

"yyourssss," Lucienne moaned.

And as that word swirled around her dumb, hypnotized mind, she felt her head becoming heavier and heavier—heavy with Moira’s words and suggestions, heavy with Moira’s scent, heavy with Moira’s control. She was sinking down, down into Moira's arms, and she couldn’t fight it anymore.

She didn’t need to fight it.

She’d done her best, hadn’t she? Surely she had. Surely she couldn’t fight anymore. And…

… and if she did, who… who had to know?

“That’s it,” Moira was hissing, “give in. Break. Good girls get to feel good~”

As Lucienne’s body sank into obedience, as her will sank into docile, pliant slumber, she dimly noticed Moira drawing letters in the thin air of the subspace with the chalk. She almost wondered what that was.

And then Moira’s hand wrapped around her cock and started to pump.

Lucienne mewled and bucked, her mind too molten to even think of any other response. She cooed brainlessly as the hand sped up, as Moira smirked down at her, every motion delicate, deliberate, indulgent. “Aw, does that feel good?” she asked silkily.

Lucienne was panting, moaning, nodding in desperation. It was like Moira was determined to drown her in ecstasy. Her cock was twitching, dribbling, and her cheeks burned at how soon, and yet she heard herself wordlessly pleading for more, yes, more, more, more—

—and Lucienne felt a pull.

Her eyes widened. Moira’s smirk widened, as if she knew that Lucienne knew.

And the hand sped up.

Lucienne tried to fight. Surely she did. Surely she was thrashing like that out of an effort to escape. Surely these cries and gasps were pleas for mercy, moans of defiance. Surely her clinging to Moira was out of an attempt to wrestle the witch to the ground.

But as Moira pumped up, and everything in Lucienne melted and dripped and poured out with it, her squeal echoed and reverberated with ghostly delight.

And as she felt herself be drawn out of Ben’s body, Lucy’s eyes lingered within Moira's endless spirals. They were like gravity wells, the waves of pleasure weakening her like hot, molten whirlpools of honey. Moira's fingertip stroking over her glans might as well have been a leash and collar round her neck.

With a gasp, Lucy found herself flying right out of Ben’s captive pleasure-subdued body.

And no sooner was she out than she was caught.

She could feel it immediately. Those four symbols Moira had been drawing in the air flickered and sparked whenever she moved towards them, fuzzing her form and causing her involuntarily to drift back. They barred her path in all directions save one.

The only direction left open to her was towards Moira.

And like the magnet of a compass, Lucy so, so longed to drift north.

Moira's smile was that of a cat accustomed to winning that had just pinned the mouse by the tail. She leaned back to admire her prize, cooing in delight. Lucy whined and tried to tear away, but she was trapped—not even by the symbols, but by how heavy her head felt, how beautiful Moira's eyes were.

"Now," Moira purred, "Moira has you." She crooked one finger and beckoned with a smug smile. "Now… come to Moira~"

"M-Moira," Lucy whimpered, as she heard Ben slumping behind her. Cumming at Moira's touch did that to people. If she’d still had a body, her heart would have fluttered at the thought. She cringed away from the witch with what space she had, feeling her ethereal form buzzing with the sigils as she pressed a little too close to her barriers.

"Oh, are those bothering you?" Moira's lashes fluttered innocently, a strobing effect on those gorgeous glowing swirling eyes that made Lucy feel weak inside. "Why not join me in the flesh? I would love to feel you quivering at my touch.”

Lucy felt panic now, panic dulled by unbearable pleasure. Looking into Moira's eyes felt so easy, and good girls got to feel good, and she already felt so good... and that was with the muted pleasure of her intangible form. Her pleasure would be that much easier easier for Moira to enhance if she went physical here. She'd be totally at Moira's mercy. She absolutely, positively could not allow herself to do so.

"okay," she said compliantly.

Wait, what? Stop! Stopstopstostop!

And yet those eyes continued to spiral. Lucy’s whole mind felt molten and gooey, thoughts sticking to thoughts. That nagging little voice was little more than a nuisance as Lucy felt herself drifting right into Moira's arms.

And then Lucy looked up, her blue form as tangible as Moira's and Ben's, pressed against Moira’s wonderful softness, and whimpered as she realized just how screwed she was about to be.

Moira beamed down at her. A finger stroked Lucy's chin, and Lucy gasped, delectable sensitivity coursing into her body from Moira's magic. Moira had total control in the subspace, and they both knew it, and Moira seemed to relish Lucy's dawning realization of her own doom. "Yes," the witch purred, "you're going to be so good for me now, aren’t you?”

"good," Lucy whimpered. She tried to shake it off, tried to fight back, but Moira's arms were so tight around her, and Moira's breasts were... right next to her head, such soft, yielding pillows, so warm and cozy, and Lucy hadn't felt heat like this in so long... "g-guh...good..."

Moira's smile grew in her delight. "Mm, yes, that's right!" she purred, caressing Lucy's cheek, making Lucy cry out as Moira’s magic made her even more sensitive, manipulating her spirit form like moldable putty in her hands, like a delicate instrument that hadn't been played in years that only Moira knew how to tune and toy with. "You're so goooood for Moira. And good girls—"

"g-gget to feeeel goood," Lucy moaned helplessly. She stared up at Moira in helpless adoration, squirming as Moira's hand slipped down, cupped her pert ass and gave a possessive squeeze.

"You're just Moira's little toy," Moira declared triumphantly. Lucy watched with glazed eyes as Moira reached over and drew another mark, this one on the faintly stirring form of Ben. Then her gaze fell back into Moira’s as those eyes swirled deeper, and deeper... "A slave to Moira's pretty eyes~"

"n-nngghh..." The last of Lucy's fight was a molten, drippy, gooey mess as she gazed up, eyes crossed and drooling, into those sweet, addictive swirls. "s-soo... pretty..." She knew she had that same stupid smile on her face, and her cheeks burned dark turquoise in flushed delight and embarrassment swirled together like two wonderful ice cream flavors.

Feeling something slipping between her legs, Lucy let out an involuntary squeak.

"Oh, my little specter," Moira purred, "you're so sensitive down there!"

"yess," Lucy slurred, squirming and writhing. "s-s-sssoooo sessnsitive thun dere..." Dimly, she knew she was babbling. It was like her words were wading through sweet honey, stumbling and tripping and getting stuck and tangled in each other until all that came out of her was incoherent sticky mess. The fingertips moved with such exquisite delicacy, melting her mind with every little graze around her needy, sensitive pussy... "N-nenver been... inn... shoooo longggg..."

She knew she desperately, urgently needed to stop telling Moira these things, knew in burning embarrassment at Moira's widening grin that everything she told Moira would be used against her, that she was making herself even easier for Moira to control now and forever…

… but she urgently, desperately, worshipfully needed Moira's fingers inside her, needed Moira to play with her like Lucy was just her empty little puppet, her sexy little plaything, her dumb little toy, and she smiled and drooled and nodded as Moira cooed and teased and stroked Lucy’s thoughts into molten, dripping ectoplasm.

"You surrendered sooo willingly," Moira gloated with a lick of her lips, leaning in close, filling Lucy's world with those endless addictive spirals that Lucy so adored.

"yes, yes—"

"Even easier than the boy!" Her left hand stroked over Lucy's breast, groped it, one fingernail teasing around Lucy's nipple until Lucy mewled.

"yes yes yes!" Lucy's head bobbed stupidly, eagerly, desperately. Moira was so right, she was always right—

"Do you know what that makes you, my sweeeet toy?"

“a good girl!” Lucy squealed happily.

And Moira's smile of triumph was unbearable. Lucy almost came at the sigh. "My good girl," Moira sang, and reached back to stroke Lucy's hair, to pull Lucy forward, closer, closer… "and what do Moira's good girls get?" …closer to Moira's perfect soft breast, gleaming, her dark nipple practically a hypnotic sight of its own—tempting, enticing, beautiful in the sparkling light of the subspace.

"to feel ggooood," Lucy moaned, drooling shamelessly.

The fingers started to stroke over her clit, and Lucy's moans rose a full octave at the delectable pleasure of surrendering, of giving in to Moira's touch, to Moira's control. Moira knew best, didn't she?

Lucy felt herself being eased into Moira's chest, and thoughtlessly her lips latched onto the nipple. Down below, the fingers sped up, several slipping inside her. She squealed into the breast, but Moira was so wonderfully soft, so sweet, she couldn't bear to pull back, and her screams of delight were muffled.

"They only get to feel good," Moira agreed smugly. "I take suuuch good care of them~"

"mmmm-hmmm," Lucy slurred around the nipple, her voice so humiliatingly submissive that the mere sound of it made her squirm happily. The fingers were speeding up, and her whole body was quivering. Oh, fuck, was—was she already getting close?

"You belong to Moira now," Moira purred, as Lucy clung to her mistress, smothered by her soft, warm tits, drowned in her sweet perfume and unable to imagine ever breathing in anything else. "Don't you, little specter?"

"mm-hmm!!!" Lucy tried to put as much agreement as she could into the pathetic admission. She wanted to please Moira. She needed to please Moira. Needed to be a... a...

"Good girl." Moira's voice dripped with smug satisfaction, amusement, but Lucy only heard the praise, and she whimpered and squirmed and grinded against Moira's hand insensibly. "Aww, do you want to cum for Moira? Already?"

"uhh..." Lucy's head bobbed. "mmyuhh..."

"Why don't you beg for it?" the witch asked sweetly. "Since you're being so good~" She tightened her grip, clutching Lucy tightly against her chest. Lucy only sucked and worshiped and happily allowed herself to be smothered. She was so happy to please.

To please. Please.

"mm... mpplmmff! mplmmff!" Lucy squirmed and thrashed as the fingers below sped up, stroking her clit and pumping in and out of her pussy in the most wonderful, addictive rhythm. "mmoiraahh! plmmmfff!"

"What was that?" Moira tilted Lucy's head back to force Lucy to meet her gleaming eyes, but didn't release her to speak. She licked her lips. "Such a sweet toy. Just too dumb and horny to even speak. Whatever could you want from Moira?"

Lucy whimpered and whined, her whole being vibrating with the intensity of her need.

She could feel strange touches now—the subspace generating phantoms that kissed and licked and stroked over her whole body. Hearing Ben moaning behind her, she dully guessed he was feeling the same. But she couldn’t think about Ben anymore. She was totally brainless, totally under Moira's control. She knew that cumming would seal her fate, would make it impossible to hope to escape on her own, and from the sounds of Ben's moans, he was soon going to be in no position to rescue her.

And she didn't care. No, she craved it. She needed Moira to take her, to own her, to use her like her slutty little toy. She gazed up helplessly into those spirals and moaned and drooled, pleading with her eyes.

"Oh, very well." Moira smirked. "Cum for Moira, my little specter~"

And as those delicate fingers began to piston in and out of her dripping cunt, Lucy squealed and mewled and came. Her whole body quivered and thrashed as the pleasure swept through her like a too-long-dammed river, as Moira's pleasure suffused her entire being and caught her, a helpless leaf the in rapids. She was a slave to Moira's will, a puppet to her fingers, a toy for her amusement.

And Moira knew it.

"Yes," Moira purred, as Lucy cried and screamed in bliss, "yessss, little specter, cum it all out. Cum all your thoughts awayyy. Cum for Moira and be owned, be hers, just as you truly desired all along." Her silken voice echoed endlessly around Lucy, inescapable, not that in the throes of ecstasy Lucy could even dream of escape. "Cum your heart away to me, and be Moira's plaything forever~"

And Lucy just plunged all the more eagerly into Moira's spell, nodding and suckling as she humped and grinded against Moira’s hand. She could almost taste something sweet on her tongue, and she sucked eagerly, hoping that it might bring her even deeper under, dispel the last of her free thoughts as the rest dripped down her slippery thighs.

And Moira didn't stop. "Go on," she whispered, as the afterglow orgasm began to give way to the next, and Lucy squeaked in surprise. "You are Moira's now, and Moira wants you to cum again for her~"

Lucy squealed and trembled and shook in bliss. Vaguely, as she writhed and grinded and humped Moira's hand brainlessly, drooling around Moira's beautiful, perfect tits, she was conscious of a strange sparking in the corner of her eye. She didn't care about pretty lights, howveer—not when the prettiest lights she'd ever dreamed of were up swirling above her in Moira's breathtaking, mind-fucking eyes. Not when her second orgasm was flooding through her with even more intensity than the first, rocking her whole body like a leaf in a great river. Not when Moira seemed so happy to fuck her brains out just as she was positive she’d always wanted.

“Gooood~” Lucy gazed up at her seductress, her captress, her new owner, as the phantoms kissed and slurped and licked and lapped and stroked over her whole body, as she helplessly suckled at Moira's breast, a dripping, drooling, gooey-brained mess. "Yesss, isn't this sooo much easier than trying to resist? Doesn’t it feel so natural to obey?"

She took Lucy gently by the chin and pulled Lucy off her breast, just for a moment.

Lucy's tongue was lolling. Her eyes gazed up into a world of beautiful spirals that seemed to swirl her entire mind around and around, dizzier and dizzier, deeper and deeper into Moira's power. She moaned and grinded aginst Moira's hand stupidly, a big, dumb, blissful smile on her face. "Hhhuuh… yessss, Mmooirraa~" she cooed.

Moira laughed in triumph. Her fingers began to thrust in and out of Lucy, making the ghost squeal and moan, and Lucy was already nearing a third orgasm, and her mind was almost a total puddle of desire—

—when a brilliant, piercing flash split the spirals in Lucy’s mind and shattered them like broken mirrors.

Moira flinched back. Briefly, the spirals in her eyes slowed as she blinked rapidly, hissing in discomfort. The fingers left Lucy's pussy to cover Moira's dazzled eyes.

Lucy blinked, confused. She didn't understand why the touching had stopped, why the spirals had left her. A part of her longed to return to suckling, but a tiny shred of survival instinct in her mind kicked into gear, rumbling and spitting and crackling like an old motor not run in years. Slowly, she turned around.

The little wisp sprite was there, flashing brilliantly. Next to Lucy, Ben was conscious, his eyes glazed but his hand trembling as, with Moira's discarded piece of chalk, he drew a violet 'X' in the air, crossing out the symbols binding him to the ground. His whole form seemed to relax, and he stared weakly up at her. "L-Lucy..."

Vague memories tried to surface in Lucy's lust-dumb mind, but everything was still so drippy, she just blinked slowly and stared at him. Once, twice.

Moira was recovering. Her eyes fixed, Lucy saw, on the little sprite, and her lip curled in distaste. "Oh, one of these pests. Mm, no matter~"

She waved a hand, and Lucy flinched as the swirling mists round them seemed to solidify into colorful silks, wrapping around the little flashing spirit until its frantic flashing had all-but-vanished from sight.

Lucy felt her chin being gripped again, gently but firmly, and found herself being guided back to face Moira. "Well, then, my sweet," Moira purred, "why don't we—"

Acting on pure instinct—the last sensible instinct she had left, the instinct that had once almost prevented her from becoming a ghost in the first place—Lucy drew back her toned running legs so her feet were lined up with Moira's torso, squeezed her eyes shut, and kicked with all her might.

It didn't feel like kicking a person. Moira's existence was law here, and the subspace would never allow her to come to harm. Instead, it was like Lucy had kicked a balloon on a string. The witch just drifted backwards, soared only briefly into the air before her flight was arrested.

But the witch seemed startled. And in that moment, Lucy reached back, grabbed Ben's wrist with one hand and the wisp with the other, and focused all her will on one word:

OUT.

Moira's will was distracted, disoriented, and she wasn't touching either of them anymore. Still, finding the way out—an entirely mental construct—was almost impossible. It was like working out how to navigate one's muscles after waking up a ghost for the first time. It was like sleep paralysis, cloying, confusing, paralyzing.

But Lucy focused on that one instinct again with all her mental might, and out they spilled.

~ ~ ~ ~

Drawing that ‘X’ had taken a lot out of Ben. He had been stroking helplessly, watching Lucy be seduced by Moira, and he'd already cum three times before he'd noticed the stick of chalk. Taking his hand off of his dribbling cock had been almost unbearable.

Now he lay sprawled in the green, panting and gasping for breath, his body resting upon a large fern plant. Lucy lay atop him, her soft, cool body pressed against him. His heart started to race. Was she asleep? Did she know her cheek was resting against his…

That weird flickering creature shot into the air, gave several staticky chirps, and flew off.

Roused by the noise, Lucy's form went incorporeal, and she shot into the air, eyes wide. "Ben! Are we out? We're out!"

"Sh-She'll be—" Ben realized he was panting for breath. His cock was still erect. He reached over and grabbed his jeans and shirt from where they'd fallen. "W-We have to—"

"Right!" Lucy leaped into his body, and Ben shivered and gasped as their forms merged once more, and he let Lucy take the reins.

Lucienne jumped up, giggling. She felt a little high on the return of their sensations, despite the danger, as her breasts expanded to meet the cool forest breeze.

"Okay, Ben, let's do something we're both good at," she chirped, and she took off running into the woods.

THE END