"That's right," Jalli cooed, stroking his hair as Lesha reached down and took another piece of bread. "Just let your hosts take care. Gretel is being a good guest."

"Yes," Lesha hissed, grinning down at him. The goblin maid leaned in and, with a prompting coo, had him open wide so she could give him another bite of the overwhelmingly delicious meal. The bread was so soft and fluffy, and the soup it was dipped in so rich and hearty and spicy - he recognized tomato, but there were so many herbs and spices, was so much he didn't recognize - "Don't worry, Gretel, this is normal outside the tower. To let your hosts handfeed you. Very normal."

The twin shortstacks giggled, exchanging mischievous looks—Jalli nestled in the big, comfy chair next to him, Lesha sitting up on the armrest. They sat on opposite sides of their wizard guest, giving him an irrational feeling of being trapped.

Gretel swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat as he looked between them. Jalli squirmed against him with a little giggle, and he saw her reaching down over the side of the chair - and returning with a lovely wooden pitcher. Her thick, dark lashes fluttered over burning blue bedroom eyes, and against emerald-green skin as soft as it was attractive, dark, plump lips curved upwards in a smile.

The smell of hot, mulled wine reached his head, and he suddenly realized how thirsty he was.

"Time for drink," they cooed in unison, eyes glimmering with delight.

Gretel swallowed, and frowned. He was certain now that they were having fun at his expense.

His head was spinning, though, and as Jalli raised a tin cup, he found himself eagerly taking it from her hand and downing the contents.

It was mulled wine—sweet, almost too sweet, and very strong, but it helped settle the spiciness. Gretel felt himself getting very hot now.

"Th-That's enough," he managed, as Jalli took the last piece of bread and started dipping it in the soup. "I, um..." He panned between their stricken looks. "I don't know what you're, um... what..."

"You... you are not enjoying our food." Lesha stared down at him, her eyes suddenly moist. "Are we not presenting it well?"

"I just, um..." Jalli was rubbing his shoulder, looking deeply upset, but her fingers were getting very close to the tattoo. "I can't... I can tell, I mean, that... it's obvious..." Gretel was having trouble putting his words together.

Lesha pouted and leaned in. She had such plump, dark crimson lips, Gretel noticed, and his breath caught. He thought she was leaning in to kiss him, but she stopped a few inches above. "What's obvious, Gretel?" she asked softly. "Is our Sharing of the Bread not honoring our guest?"

"I... Sharing of the what?"

"The Sharing of the Bread!" Jalli giggled, her fingers skittering around his shoulder and close to the tattoo like a spider's legs. "It's a very, very important thing. Hospitality."

"Hospitality," Lesha agreed. "We were almost done with the bread. It... it seemed like it was going well."

Gretel was having trouble focusing on their words. Their eyes flickered between each other like... like... like very pretty eyes. Their tones were so soft and sweet, so kind and sympathetic, so sad and guilty. Jalli was so soft against him, so warm and comforting. Lesha smelled like cinnamon as she leaned over him, her eyes boring into his. He was having trouble focusing on their words, but he was pretty sure he got the gist.

"I-I see." He bit his lip. "I, um... okay. I'm sorry. I misunderstood. I guess." He looked at Jalli, then at her hand, still gripping the last piece of bread. "This is... normal for guests?"

"Of course it is normal for hosts to feed their guests by hand!" Jalli beamed at him and stroked his hair. "Do they not do it in the Ivory Tower?"

"Um." He blinked at her hand, then up at Lesha's chest.

"Open wide," Jalli purred in his ear.

~ ~ ~ ~

They kept feeding him like that, alternating with each piece of bread and occasionally pausing for more mulled wine. Every now and then, one of them would get up to refill the pitcher or bring another loaf, but they were never both gone at the same time. No matter what, one of them was always hanging on his arm, touching him delicately. Talking to him.

He wasn't really sure what they were talking about. He was getting sleepy. It was so warm, and he was so full. The wine was making his head kind of... spin. Lopsided. Like an unbalanced ship in a maelstrom. He felt his mind sloshing back and forth, jiggling and bouncing in time with their breasts, with their thick accents and sweet voices.

As he finally polished off the last of the soup, they praised him. That felt a bit strange, to have Jalli cooing in his ear, "Such a good appetite. Such a polite guest." But they were happy with him. He was being a good guest. What was so wrong with that?

Jalli hopped out of the chair with the tray, disappearing once more into the kitchen with a smile and a wink. They winked and smiled a lot, these goblin maids. He smiled after her as her swishing ass, hugged tightly by the nightgown, disappeared from sight. It was a good thing that was just normal, or he'd think they were being a bit flirtatious.

Lesha's fingers continued to stroke through his hair as she hummed that little traveling tune from earlier. He looked up at her, eyelids heavy, as she remarked, "You have such pretty, hair, Gretel."

"Th-Thanks." Gretel ducked his head and put his hand over his still-tender tattoo. Jalli kept breathing on it by accident, and while that wasn't enough to really bother him, it was... enough.

"But messy." She giggled. "It looks very messy, Gretel. When is last time you brush it, silly?"

Gretel blinked. "Um."

"Aw." She patted his cheek. The people around here were very big on touch, Gretel had noticed, but both these goblin maids and Maye had eagerly assured him that it was normal to let pretty women touch you like this. And what did he know? Why would they lie? "Silly human. You look like, um... oh, I do not know the word."

"Where are you from, anyways?" he asked sleepily. "Or... I mean, um, what's that accent?"

"Deep Southern." She beamed at him. "My grandparents came here on the—I think you called them Wolfboats. The raids. But we settled down."

"Oh." He blinked and nodded. Lesha seemed to have obtained a bristle hairbrush, and was fiddling with it in front of him—right between her breasts. The Wolfboats. The raids from the Deep South. Mindweavers come a-viking, as they said, to claim husbands and wives, treasure and souvenirs. Many goblin maids not from the Mountains were descended from those who'd lingered after the raids. Goblin maids made bad vikings, they said—they fell in love too easily.

"Can I..." She tapped the brush, grinning with palpable eagerness.

"I... I dunno." He bit his lip. "My hair doesn't really brush."

"But you look like..." She shook her head ruefully. "What is the word for, um, silly person who plays around all the time?"

He blinked. "Um... depends on what you mean by—"

"Bimbo," squeaked a little voice, as Jalli hopped back into the chair next to him. She wrapped her arms around him, giggling. "I know the word!"

"That's, um... not quite..."

"Silly person who plays all the time!" Jalli's eyes glimmered, so pretty and blue. "Sleeps around everywhere. Bedhead all the time, ya?"

"I... I guess..." Gretel struggled to find words as Lesha, who was clearly very excited, bounced in her seat in front of him. He knew that wasn't right, that Jalli and Lesha had the wrong word, but it was so hard to explain why with Jalli clinging to him like that. So soft. So warm.

His head lolled slightly. "I guess," he mumbled. They giggled.

"So can I?" Lesha asked.

He looked up at her. "Mm?"

"Can I brush your hair?" She seemed a bit impatient. "It's so pretty! Please? You don't want to look like bimbo, ya?"

"I... um..." He swallowed, staring right at her jiggling breasts. "I, um..." His mind bounced and sloshed.

"Please?" She leaned in, stroking his hair. Jalli was stroking his neck, just around the sensitive silvery mark again. "Please? Oh, can I, please, Gretel?"

"It... it won't be weird?" Gretel's voie was very small.

They tittered and cooed and poured on reassurance, Jalli whispering just in his ear. No. not weird at all. Be nice. Be good. Good guest. His thoughts slushed and puffed and melted in the heat.

At some point, they asked him a question, and he found that out only when they squealed with glee at his tiny little, "uh-huh..."

Lesha leaned in very close, her eyes shining with excitement. And then he couldn't see her eyes anymore.

Because she had practically pulled him to her bosom.

He wasn't quite touching her. She was right in front of him, humming. Her brush ran gently through his hair, somehow not encountering a single tangle. And before him jiggled those big, green breasts, barely held in by the nightgown.

"You don't mind, do you?" Jalli purred. He looked over, feeling his ears burning as his seatmate smiled slyly at him. She glanced at her sister, who he realized had neatly slid onto his knee.

"It's..." He bit his lip, trying not to look at either Lesha or Lesha's lush assets. "It's fine?"

He hadn't meant it to sound like a question, but Jalli just giggled. She leaned in and nuzzled him. "It's fine," she cooed, her blue eyes shimmering with excitement. "Because you are being a good guest."

"Oh..." Gretel's eyelids fluttered. It felt... nice. Having his hair brushed. He felt soft. Safe. Rosy and warm.

"A very good guest," she breathed, stroking the back of his neck. "And such a sweet boy."

"Ah?" he blinked, trying to stay awake as her hand slid slowly over his crotch...

...and, to his relief and strange disappointment, over to the other side of the chair. Her hand dipped into the bowl of treats and pulled out a candied orange , lifting it to his lips.

"You must try one," she said softly. "It is very good. Please?"

Gretel's mind spun, but it was already automatic to open his mouth when the goblin maids told him to. As the brush stroked softly over his hair, as Lesha hummed and jiggled and immersed him in the smell of nutmeg, he opened his mouth and let Jalli pop the treat inside.

It was sweet. Too sweet. He grimaced and had to struggle to force himself to swallow, barely even sucking or chewing. It was basically sugar.

But Jalli's reaction made it almost worth it. She seemed so happy, clinging to him, her lips grazing his ear as she cooed, "Good guest. So good and polite. Such a polite boy. So happy to have found you. Would you like another?"

"Uh..." Gretel swayed slightly as Lesha scooted up a little. Her ass was so soft and plump, and he looked up and saw her smiling at him. Her brush glided through his hair, soft and soothing. Like he was being petted. Like a... a kitten. He smiled nervously up at her.

"Of course he does," Lesha cooed, and with her free hand, she took a candy and brought it to his lips. "Open wide, sweet thing."

Gretel's lips parted, and he gave a soft moan of protest as the bit of candied apricot slipped into his waiting mouth. Sweetness melted on his tongue, but he tried to ignore it, to suck and swallow as quick as possible.

"Gooood," Jalli gushed, her voice even sweeter and meltier than the candies in his ear. "So polite. Such yummy treat, ya?"

"Y-Yeah," he mumbled, his eyelids drifting. It felt so easy to close his eyes, or to let them rest upon Lesha's jiggling bosom. He felt like he should have some sort of argument, but as Jalli took a piece of candied pineapple, he found he couldn't quite find the muscles to close his mouth.

Her fingers stroked over his parted, plump lips, almost tickling them as he sucked and swallowed. No sooner had he done so than Lesha was giggling, slipping another candy past those lips.

"Nice and sweet," Lesha cooed, in time with the rhythm of her brush strokes. Her voice sent crackles up and down his spine as her brush soothed him. "Such a gracious guest. Open wide!"

They were both giggling at him as his mouth opened, and they each popped a candied piece of... pear?... into his mouth. He let out a soft moan, trying to protest, but it just felt so... good to lie there and let them take care of him. He hadn't noticed before, how the fruits practically melted in his mouth. And this was normal, wasn't it?

He couldn't even identify the fruits anymore. His mind was too molten and... and drippy, and sleepy, and the fruits were too deliciously sweet. It was like they were filling him with sugar, piece by piece, drip by drip.

"You are very sweet," Jalli whispered in his ear, her vice almost a purr.

"Mm." Gretel blinked, uncertain. Her finger was very close to his mark, but he didn't want to interrupt. Didn't want to... to be a rude guest. "Mm?"

"Open wide," Lesha sang, and he thoughtlessly accepted another candy as Jalli smiled at him.

"That is right," she said, nodding her head as she nuzzled him. "A sweet guest. All that candy is getting to you, ya? Makes you sweet and sugary."

"Oh... mm..." Gretel nodded hesitantly as Jalli's fingers slipped into his mouth, and he sucked without thinking. She pulled out with a squeak and giggle, and his eyes widened. But then he tasted the candy she'd placed on his tongue, and somehow, all he could muster by way of apology was a bunch of babbling whimpers. Lesha scooted up even closer on his knee, practically in his lap now.

"Very sweet," she said, nodding, her brilliant red eyes flickering like candles in the dim light. The warm fire cast all sorts of shadows, accentuating her curves, her heavy-lidded bedroom eyes, her dark, luscious lips. Those lips that were now coming closer and closer, he dimly realized. "Sweeter and sweeter with every... suck."

"Mm. Uh?" He blinked rapidly. "Um, I, um..." Words were so hard. "What are you..."

"Silly little Gretel," cooed Lesha from above, and he looked up at her. She beamed down at him. "Is very common for good guests to get marks from host."

"M-Marks?"

"We mark you," Jalli cooed, and he felt her lips press against his cheek in a long, wet kiss.

His lips parted in shock. Lesha slipped several candies in, giggling in glee.

As the sweetness melted into him, Jalli pulled back with a loud, mwah. "It is a... tradition," she said, her eyes gleaming.

Gretel reached up and felt his cheek, feeling the still-wet lipstick mark. His lips quivered, and his heart sped up slightly as he realized Lesha was lowering down to his other cheek, her lips parted slightly. "That's right," she breathed, her finger stroking his lips, silencing his confused protests and questions. "A tradition!"

The maids giggled, and Gretel gasped as Lesha kissed him. Her lips were even plumper than her sister's, and he felt her tongue licking along his skin as she moaned against him.

"It is very traditional," Jalli cooed in his ear, as he stared into the flickering firelight and felt sweetness and warmth flooding his body, "to be a good guest and let his hosts mark him."

"Oh." He arched his back slightly, trying to resist the waves of pleasure Lesha was pouring into him as she wriggled, practically in his lap now. "Oh, um... oh."

Lesha pulled off wetly, humming with excitement. He stared up at her, and she giggled and jiggled her breasts openly. "Was that nice?"

"Um." His breath caught. "N-Nice?"

"Hm, no." He turned, feeling strangely dizzy, to Jalli, who was shaking her head. Her expression was one of rueful embarrassment. "Look how weak the marks are."

"What?" Gretel blinked at her, then turned back to Lesha, who was bobbing her head in sad agreement. He couldn't stop looking between the two, and it felt like he was being spun in circles.

"Ooh, you're right," Lesha murmured, running her finger over his right cheek where she had kissed him. He could feel her grazing the lipstick mark. It felt like a very solid red mark to him, but he had no mirror. Only a fireplace, and the reflection of his face in their big, pretty, thick-lashed eyes. "That will not do, will it Gretel?"

"W-Wait..." Gretel trembled as Jalli started to lean in. This couldn't be normal. Could it? Was he really that cloistered?

"Do not worry, Gretel," Jalli breathed, smiling slightly. "We just... need... to get a good mark."

"Gretel," Lesha sang, and he turned dazedly back to her as she beamed down at him. "You do not mind, ya?" Her hand rose from the candy bowl and came out with a bright pink piece of candied... was it grapefruit?

He tried to speak, but as Jalli's lips pressed against his cheek in a different spot, Lesha popped the grapefruit candy into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered as sweet pleasure filled his mind, and he moaned. Even the candied grapefruit was unbearably sweet. Wonderfully sweet. Just like the kiss.

And then Lesha was kissing him, too, between his neck and shoulder. "Just... give good mark," he heard her moan.

"Lots of tries," purred Jalli, kissing down his jawline.

"Try and... mm... try," Lesha gasped between kisses. "And it feels so... mm... sweet."

"How's this, Gretel?" Jalli asked, her voice small and playful. Gretel felt her breath on his mark. "It might... show up nice on white."

His eyes widened. "N—"

She took him in a hungry, wet kiss, that long tongue lavishing love as her lips smacked sloppy against his neck, and Gretel moaned and cried out—only to be silenced by Lesha kissing him right on the lips, her tongue slipping like a serpent into his mouth. So long and sinuous, and her lips so, so soft, and wet, and sweet...

And Lesha was not sitting still in his lap. He whimpered helplessly in embarrassment as he felt himself hardening from her wriggling presence.

The goblin maids finally pulled back with loud popping sounds. He stared at them dizzily, sinking deeper into his seat.

"How is that?" Jalli asked, blinking up at him.

"I think those are good!" Lesha said, grinning. "Very pretty effect."

Gretel's words came out as a murmured babble. He felt overwhelmed. Hot. Claustrophobic. Powerless. So sleepy, and so, so, so... sweet.

He realized he was returning Lesha's smile.

Jalli looked at Lesha and said something in a lilting, harsh language, her eyes flitting back to Gretel with a sly look.

Lesha giggled and bobbed her head. "Ja, ja, ja," she agreed.

Gretel had a feeling they were talking about him.

"What—" he started, but they cut him off with another candy—this one not a fruit, he dimly realized, but a lemon drop. He blinked, but as Lesha smiled down at him and ran her finger over his lips, stroking them over and over, he found himself beginning to suck docilely.

They would explain soon enough what was going on. He had to be a good, polite guest. Let Lesha brush his hair, let Jalli lean in and continue her soft kisses around his mark.

"You are being so good," Lesha purred, as she started to scoot back. Jalli's hands drifted over his body, feeling the buttons on his suit, the laces on his trousers. "So very, very good. But it is time for bed."

"Mm," he nodded eagerly. Thank the gods. He was exhausted after all this etiquette.

They giggled, and he felt Jalli's fingers delicately undoing the buttons. His breath caught in his throat, but his attempts to speak were hampered by needing to keep sucking the candy. Lesha's brushing kept him as docile and pliant as taffy, all while Jalli steadily undid his shirt, her tongue and lips tantalizing his sensitive skin as she moaned against his neck.

"We will make sure you have a nice, long sleep," Lesha went on, continuing to brush, continuing to stroke his lips. His head lolled as she eased him to lean into her breasts, giving him lots of sweet, nutmeg-scented air to breathe in—and giving Jalli more area to kiss. "Does that sound nice?"