CHAPTER 12

A rhythmic knocking on her door brought Celia back to wakefulness. Instantly, she tensed, going over the situation. What had happened? She had gone to sleep, after… after Aversa. She was in an amazingly warm bed, covered in a soft blanket, naked, but that could be dealt with later, and in a magical fortress. With the situation established, Celia decided that she really didn’t want to do anything, and that whatever wanted her attention couldn’t be urgent and could in fact go away.

“Celia?” Lauren called. Well. That was a different story. Aversa’s illusions aside, Lauren was her friend, and just thinking about her was an oasis of warmth. With a smile, she corrected herself. Maybe a bit more than a friend. But… she had to consider last night. Consider the offer. Consider the demand. Still, Lauren wanted to talk to her, and she didn’t want to tell the priestess to go away, but…

“I brought pancakes!”

Okay, that settled it. With another groan, she roused herself from the soft warm nest of blankets and pillows she had made. “Just a moment!" She grumbled, sliding to the floor and grabbing a nightgown from her wardrobe. She slipped it over her head, then crossed the room and opened the door.

Lauren was, of course, her normal cheerful self. Her long hair was tied back into a loose braid, and she was wearing a forest-green dress that suited her stunningly. She had a slender wand in one hand, which had faint glowing lines running along it, and bobbing obediently behind her and covered in the same faint glow were two covered plates, two glasses, and a carafe of some sort of juice. “You’re… levitating me breakfast?” Celia chuckled, standing aside to let Lauren and her procession in.

“I only have two hands, Celia,” Lauren grinned back. As the priestess cleared an area for the plates on her table, Celia returned to the bed and looked over at her friend with a soft smile. Then, she remembered last night, and the tone of that smile changed. It hadn’t really been the pinkette seducing her, but that didn’t change the image of the priestess, so completely in control… But that brought up a different part of that memory. The reason she’d been down there in the first place. Gella and the Lord Sorcerer.

She had found Aversa while looking for answers, and the demoness had answered her with new questions, each more dangerous than the last. Could she ask Gella for help? The mage might explain things, and help guard her against the demonic temptations. “Did Gella leave already?”

Lauren’s nod dashed that hope, and Celia’s expression fell. “Celia? What's the matter?” The priestess set the breakfast plates down, turning to look at her with concern. Celia just smiled softly and patted the bed next to her. Lauren obligingly sat, tilting her head a little in confusion.

“Can I have a hug, Lauren?” That hadn't been what she had meant to say, but it had just slipped out, and Lauren really did give the best hugs… She sighed. Yeah. A hug sounded real nice right then.

“Is something bothering you? I’m happy to listen if it is.” Celia nodded before she could really think about it, and Lauren wrapped her in a warm, soft embrace. She tried to marshal her thoughts, to explain what the problem was. It was Gella, and by extension Lauren that she was feeling wary of… but Gella also already knew that Celia knew, and nothing had come of it. It might have been a thin justification, but knowing she had time still let Celia relax. She held the hug for a long moment, then got up, sitting at the desk to eat.

Celia took a bite, and paused to marvel at the texture. Fluffy, warm, buttery, and sweet all together into a decadent whole. She swallowed, savoring the taste, before nodding again. “It’s…” The totality of the problem was overwhelming. Her own feelings, the tempting vision Aversa had shown her, the revelations of before, and they all seemed to be pulling Celia in different directions.

She sighed again. Lauren didn’t seem to mind the silence. She was just waiting patiently with that wonderful smile, waiting for the warrior to sort through her own thoughts. Not for the first time, a traitorous and ever-growing part of her whispered that being Gella’s Treasure would be the simplest solution. “Do you ever think you made the wrong choice, submitting to Gella?” She mused and Lauren shook her head.

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a choice,” she sighed. A spike of fear shot down Celia’s spine at that, but she waited. She could withhold judgment. Lauren would explain. The priestess snuck past her to steal a bite of pancake, then sighed again. “Gella rescued me, like I told you. She also put my mind back together.” Her posture shifted, relaxing, and she turned to look at Celia, who shuddered at the glassy look in her pink-rimmed eyes. Lauren blinked slowly, then smiled absently.

Before Celia could give voice to her growing fear Lauren shook her head. “I asked Gella to do this, Celia,” Her voice was smooth, even, a little dreamy, perhaps, but still awake and alert. “The past isn’t always easy. This lets me think about it without worrying. Without fear. Without pain. And I want to tell you, Celia. You should know what she did for me.” For her, not to her. Celia relaxed a little at that. Even with the priestess’s eyes dreamy and unfocused, Celia could see the warmth in them. She shook her head, then met those eyes. She could trust Lauren. Lauren was safe. Regardless of everything else, the pink priestess was safe.

“Thank you, Lauren,” Celia said softly. It was touching that Lauren would reflect on something so obviously painful just to share it with her. She wanted to return the favor, but… A sharp stab of pain from that sealed place in her mind ended that trail of thought. Another thing being Gella’s could apparently help me with.

Lauren nodded serenely, then her expression fell to neutral. “I grew up in a small town near the south tail of the Dragon’s Spine. I don’t know if it had a proper name, but the people that lived there just called it Pasture.” She smiled bitterly at that. It was unnerving to hear the normally cheerful and bubbly girl speak so coldly. Whatever compulsion Gella had woven over her was keeping her from getting overwhelmed, at least. “The name was probably a cruel joke. The place was run by a small cadre of vampires.” Her tone didn’t shift a bit, but her expression tightened, and her smile went from bitter to icy.

“You don’t need to say any more,” Celia offered softly. “I can work out the rest. Gella saved you, right?”

Lauren nodded. “Yes, she did. But it’s more than that. She saved me, and helped me come back from the state I was in.” The cold smile broke, replaced with an expression of utter devotion. “She’s helped me so much, and she treats me wonderfully. I can’t imagine any other way I would want to live my life. I’m hers, and I treasure that every moment I get.”

That brought a mix of feelings, most of them uncomfortably warm. The rightness of submitting last night made a part of her yearn to feel it again, but Gella was still not a certain bet. Violet’s existence, and the secrets she’d been keeping, proved that. But… She blinked and it felt like the whole room refocused. She couldn’t submit to Gella, or to Aversa. Neither would be safe. But…

“Lauren,” she began hesitantly. “I, um, don’t know if I need to do this any specific way, but…" She cleared her throat. “I, Celia Evergleam, give Lauren DuMare permission to give me suggestions or commands that influence my choices.” There wasn’t any feeling, any sense of magic, to tell her if it worked. But she hoped it did.

Lauren blinked in surprise, then her eyes widened, and she squealed happily, throwing her arms around Celia as though her earlier melancholy had just been a bad dream. The priestess hugged her tightly and Celia happily returned it, trying to still the nervous flutter in her tummy. Lauren had power over her now. Power to take her mind. It wasn’t the sweeping, instant kind of power Gella or Aversa could have, but… Feeling the warm, soft, wonderful girl in her arms sparked fleeting fantasies that spoke more than enough of how that power could be used.

“Celia!” Lauren grinned, slipping out of the hug to face the warrior. “I’d be glad to.” She frowned, though it seemed more a frown of confusion than one of anything negative. “What made you change your mind?”

Celia grimaced. She wanted to spill everything. Aversa, the illusions she wove, the feelings she had brought into sharp relief. Lying to Lauren was a horrible thought – she was just so earnest! So, Celia cobbled together a half-truth. “Just… been on my mind a lot these past few days. And I trust you.” She smiled, leaning back in to hug Lauren again. “And… I really liked how it felt, before.”

Lauren squeezed her. “Okay,” she said brightly. “Do you want to do something like that again? Is that what’s bothering you?”

It took everything Celia had not to just scream out a yes. She wanted what Aversa had shown her she wanted. And she knew, hoped, needed the priestess to give her that. “I… I really would. Can I…” She couldn’t get the words out. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like Lauren would be upset, she had been the one to offer first, and…

“Celia.” Lauren’s voice pulled Celia back, back from the nervous spiral building in her mind. “Do you want me to do that now?” She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Lauren drew back, smiling. “Allume,” she whispered, and a flame came alight in her palm, a small, bright thing, brighter than fire should be. “Etre impressionne,” she continued, and the flame fractured, its color bending and swirling into lines of glowing, shifting light. The warrior gasped at the effect the spells made. The first spell had made fire before, but the second… She had heard priests say those words before, to make themselves heard over a crowd. What was different? She sat, spellbound, watching those patterns, puzzling over those questions. The patterns shifted in such a deliberate way, a marked contrast to the chaotic logic of the fae. This…

She knew, intellectually, that the flame was just a flame. Lauren’s spell had made no pull on her mind, no drain on her will. But still, there was something powerful, something freeing, in being able to choose to give herself to the patterns. And so she did.

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it, Celia?” Lauren’s voice was a whisper in her ear, and it sent warm, languid shivers down her spine. She nodded. She didn’t need words. Words wouldn’t describe the shifting patterns, not in any way that mattered. “How are you feeling?” So much care in her voice.

“Relaxed. Happy.” Celia found the words came easily to answer the question. Lauren had told her that it was easier to go under a way you already had. And this was the third time… “Comfortable,” she added. It was a detached kind of comfort, but not an unpleasant one, her thoughts and worries distant and unimportant beneath a Lavender sea.

Lauren shifted around to hold Celia from behind. “Do you remember what we talked about? How control gets used here?”

Celia’s mind drifted over the memory. “Relaxation,” she breathed. “Fun, games, sex, though it doesn’t have to be sex.” A slow flush crept up her body. She hoped it was sex. Control and pleasure seemed so intimately connected now, so obviously Yellow in hue. She didn’t have to be a slave to be controlled, to feel good, to let another guide. A smile bloomed on her lips.

“Which did you want to feel with me, Celia?” Fantasies spun, and she thought about it. Sex had been her immediate desire, but on reflection, that was an Indigo of the moment. She could bed the priestess simply by asking, she was certain. No, she wanted something more important. She wanted to know the answer.

“Controlled,” she said firmly.

Lauren giggled, light and sweet. “Well, I think I can do that.” She paused for a moment, still holding the entranced warrior gently. “Now, how to go about it… ah, that’s an idea.” She kissed Celia’s neck softly. “I’m going to give you suggestions that I don’t want you to remember. You’ll act on them, but you won’t know what they are. Understand?” Celia’s face tightened, but she nodded.

“Of course,” Lauren continued smoothly, voice still soft. “That’s still scary, isn’t it? Don’t worry. I’ll amend that. If, at any time, you say… reveal your secrets… you’ll remember what I had told you to do. And if you say the spell is over, or sunset comes, the suggestions will end entirely, and you’ll be able to remember, too. Is that better?”

Until sunset. Being under Lauren’s control for the better part of a day. She trusted her. The priestess wouldn’t make her do anything bad. And if she needed to, she had a way out. Orange faded back to Yellow thankfulness, and she nodded, feeling a warm bloom of desire. Lauren said something, words that she heard, understood, remembered, and then forgot. Soon, the rest of her mind followed into peaceful, warm oblivion. She closed her eyes and leaned into Lauren’s embrace.

________________

Awareness returned to Celia slowly. Judging by the light in the windows, she hadn’t been gone long. She was still dressed in her nightgown, and she could still taste the last bits of her breakfast on her tongue.

Wait, the last bits?

She glanced over to the empty plates and glasses. “You fed me breakfast?” She frowned. “That’s it?”

Lauren giggled from behind her. “Oh, no. You fed yourself.” She tapped Celia’s temple twice. “Remember?”

The warrior tensed as memories made themselves known, then relaxed. It wasn’t like the memories she avoided digging up. No pain, no fear. Instead, she had already known – already remembered eating the rest of her breakfast with mechanical precision, smiling dreamily as she did – but just hadn’t wanted to. Because Lauren had told her not to. The warmth building in her body shifted a little. This was still someone else guiding, but it was worlds away from the firm hand Aversa had shown. Not searing eroticism, but just contentment. The knowledge she could relax and let go.

“Oh. Oh, wow,” she breathed slowly.

Lauren was by her side in a moment, a hint of concern in her expression, but Celia silenced that concern with a quick kiss. “Don’t worry. That was a good oh, Miss Lauren.” She blinked. “… Huh. I meant to call you Miss Lauren, not Miss Miss Lauren.” She snorted. “Why did I say Miss Miss Miss Lauren?” Oh! So that was what was happening!

She couldn’t help but grin as Lauren failed to hold back laughter. “Oh? Did someone like me calling her Miss Miss Miss Miss Lauren?”

“It might be a bit much,” Lauren giggled. “I think just one Miss will do nicely.”

It was such a little thing. So small, and so simple, yet… it felt nice. Wonderful, even. She had to say Miss before Lauren. She didn’t have a choice, and yet, it wasn’t something she was opposed to. There was something so warm about that, about a small, harmless reminder of who she was serving. “That. Um. Well. I think… I like calling you Miss Lauren.” A blush crept over her cheeks. It felt a little embarrassing to admit, but not in a way that stung.

“I’m glad! But don’t worry. That wasn’t all I had prepared for you!” She slipped off the bed with a wink, and moved to stand in front of Celia. Holding out a hand, palm up, she met the warrior’s gaze with quiet intent. Her breath caught, staring into those pink-rimmed eyes, the contrast with the blue beneath upsetting at first but now so familiar. “Ready to begin, Celia?”

Something clicked at those words. It was almost like hearing a spell – the words were different somehow, in a way she couldn’t quite describe. There was something there, something she could know if she needed to, but… Lauren was guiding her. She was the one in control. Not Celia. She knew how much nicer it would be to go along, that this was perfectly safe, because Lauren was the one doing it. And that was all she needed to know. She knew the answer to give, too. It was right on the tip of her tongue. The way to continue Lauren’s game. She let the words guide her. “I am ready to begin, Miss Lauren.”

She shivered as something changed, indescribably. She didn’t feel different aside from a relaxed sense of calm, but something had changed. She knew something had. “What was that?” She asked, not out of concern, but simple curiosity.

Lauren didn’t answer right away. Instead, she slipped two fingers under Celia’s chin, exerting the tiniest bit of pressure. Celia let herself be guided, pulled along until she was at Lauren’s side. She frowned, though she nuzzled against the priestess’s warm fingers. If it had begun, then what was the change?

Lauren put a hand on her head, stroking her hair, and Celia relaxed into it, before her eyes widened. Even if it was Lauren, she wouldn’t have folded so easily, not without any explanation, right? She hadn’t thought about it, just moved with Lauren’s touch as if it was natural. There had been nothing caging her mind, no voice telling her what she could and couldn’t do, but her body had obeyed even such a small touch as that… Celia shivered again, her inner flame spinning to life in a way she hadn’t felt since New Gyr. She was soft. She was sharing pleasure, in such a mundane way, and it felt so, so good. She was being controlled, and it wasn’t the least bit scary. It was what Lauren had promised it was. Wonderful, soft, and safe. A part of her relaxed, one she hadn’t realized had been tense up until then.

Lauren’s smile broke her face like the sun from behind clouds. She was happy, happy with Celia, and that birthed a flame no less powerful for its softer heat. “Good girl.” The words felt like hands, petting down her spine. Another thing Lauren did? “For the time being, I get to control this wonderful body of yours.”

The night before with Aversa was thrown into sharp contrast. In Lauren’s guise, Aversa had taken, where Lauren had asked. Every action Lauren took seemed to be out of a pure intent to do as much as she could for everyone, yet she wasn’t naive. Someone that optimistic was a rare thing, something to be treasured. But Aversa… She paused. Well, Aversa hadn’t exactly been cruel. She had been aloof, yet clearly she hadn’t chosen to exercise her full powers. With the potency of the illusions she’d woven, Celia would have been putty in her hands, but she had only given her the one fantasy, and hadn’t made any effort to reestablish it.

She shook her head and packed that thought away for later. Aversa was a concern for a different time, a time when she didn’t have her wonderful sweet priestess, her Miss Lauren, to serve. “Yes, Miss Lauren.” She did her best to sound demure and calm, and she certainly managed to sound something. “Y-you control this wonderful body of mine.” She flushed, sitting up straight in a position she realized thrust her chest forward. That wasn’t how she sat, was it?

But for Lauren, I want to.

Lauren rolled her eyes and leaned in for a soft kiss. “Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, Celia.” It warmed her heart, even if the priestess was giggling when she said it. On second thought, that might even have been why it felt so nice. More and more, she was finding this – serving, not being made to obey – to be comfortable, and Lauren’s lighthearted nature was probably a large part of that. As she thought that, the priestess rounded the warrior, slipping her hand around Celia’s wrist. It was a light touch, Lauren barely brushing Celia’s skin. “You can’t move my arm, Celia,” she whispered.

She took a moment to bask in the feeling of such a lovely voice whispering into her ear. Then, experimentally, she moved her arm. Or, at least, she tried to. Frowning, she slid her arm forwards, but that worked fine. She flexed, and her strength was still there. But Lauren’s soft grip might as well have been iron. No, she could tense against iron. She couldn’t even try to move Lauren. She swallowed, her face burning an even fiercer red than before.

The priestess let Celia’s wrist go, and she swung it experimentally – worked just fine – as the pinkette circled back in front of Celia. “Pick me up, Celia.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the warrior’s neck. She almost moved to oblige the priestess, but a thought stopped her. Her body obeyed Lauren’s touch, but would it…

Without any impetus from her, she stood, carefully gathering Lauren into her arms in a princess carry. The motion was natural, exactly as she had been planning to move… so was that planning something that had been suggested to her too?

She had to suppress a whimper at the thought. That… that just wasn’t fair. How could a simple idea get her so flustered by itself?

“Good girl,” Lauren cooed, and damn it that just wasn’t fair either! “Now, take us to the main bathroom.” And so, letting herself follow the command fully this time, she did.

While padding down the hallway, Celia noticed something. Lauren wasn’t just being passive in her arms. Instead, she seemed to be keeping herself loose yet not limp, easy to maneuver but still not deadweight. The ease with which she did it, almost unnoticeable unless you were paying attention, spoke of long practice. She knew how to do the same thing, at least, in theory. It was part of how she fought. She let momentum carry her when she needed to, and strained against it to pivot. Her lips quirked as she looked down at Lauren. How much did the priestess get carried that she’d need that kind of skill?

As Violet rounded a corner in the hallway ahead, she couldn’t help but imagine the slender elf being the one carrying the pinkette. Celia didn’t miss a step even as the images filled her mind. Her Miss Lauren had told her to take them to the bathroom, and she would obey. That didn’t mean her cheeks didn’t flush, though, nor did it keep her eyes from darting away from the ever-so-slight smile on Violet’s lips.

Lauren noticed too, and shifted in Celia’s arms to kiss her shoulder. Celia thought that was the end of it, but Lauren’s warm smile turned mischievous, and she knew she was doomed.

“Stop.” Her voice was just as gentle as always, yet Celia’s body obeyed without hesitation. Her arms weren’t even strained, so standing still wasn’t a problem. Being shown off – because surely that’s why she was stopped before Vi – though… it didn’t exactly feel bad. She had assumed it would be embarrassing to be seen, having submitted so much to the priestess. Instead it was the same warm bloom, only magnified. Violet wasn’t a stranger. She already knew, and was someone who Celia could share that pleasure with. It made her blush, yes, it made her feel soft, of course, but it didn’t make her feel bad.

Celia let that line of thinking fall as Violet stepped towards them. “Good morning, Celia. Lauren.” She bowed her head slightly, making the perfect image of a maid, marred only by that knowing smile. On her, it was practically a smirk already. Lauren’s smirks were always at shared jokes, never to tease, but someone like Tabby… Celia’s eyes widened in horror. If Tabby saw her like this, she’d never hear the end of it.

“Good morning, Vi!” Lauren responded brightly, as normal and happy if she wasn’t currently being carried down the hallway by a woman totally within her thrall. Well, that was normal for here, so…

“Morning,” Celia offered, trying not to sigh. What had she gotten herself into? It was all she could do to keep her eyes away from both of the fiends that were conspiring to push every drop of blood she had to her cheeks, and doing a good job of it while they were at it.

“Celia.” Violet’s hand very lightly brushed over the warrior’s shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to meet Violet’s eyes and saw something she guessed was the elf’s equivalent of warmth. “I’m glad things are going well,” she said, bowing her head again. “I’ll leave you both to it.” She started walking, then paused after a few steps. “And apropos of nothing, Tabitha is downstairs in the living room,” she added over her shoulder.

Celia flicked her eyes down to Lauren’s quickly, and she nodded in understanding. “Yes, we should avoid Tabby for now. You’re still easing into this, and she can be…” The priestess trailed off, obviously looking for a polite word.

“Horny? Insatiable? Liable to take me to her nest and keep me there for a week, outside of meals?” Celia offered. That thought made her shiver, and it was definitely from terror. Definitely.

Lauren giggled. “No, she would never! She would always make sure you got regular exercise!” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “That probably just means sex, but still, exercise!”

Celia groaned halfheartedly, and Lauren beamed back at her. “Well, no more dawdling. To the bathroom!” Again, Celia’s body obeyed, and a faint whisper in her mind of good girl sent warm shivers flowing through her.

________________

Bathing with Lauren had turned out considerably more sedate than Celia was expecting. The moment they were undressed, Lauren had whispered a word that Celia didn’t even try to remember, and the world shifted slightly. Lauren stopped being Miss Lauren, and her words ceased to have any power over her.

When she questioned the priestess, Lauren had simply said that “they didn’t need to rush too fast.” While Celia wouldn’t have objected, that gesture of caring made her profoundly grateful, and she hugged Lauren close for several minutes. It was still funny, how even within a place like Cair Dwemor, she had found someone more worthy of trust than anyone else she’d ever known.

They relaxed in the steaming water, scrubbing each other down to get clean. Then they got dressed. First Lauren, who had a few sets of clothes in the bathroom’s closet, who then sheepishly ran back to Celia’s room to get her some clean clothes. She accepted the clothes gratefully, putting on the cream breeches, a black supporting garment for her chest, and a smooth sky-blue shirt.

“Ready to resume, Celia?” The words had the same inexplicable quality as before, and, smiling shyly, the warrior let the words guide her again.

“I am ready to resume, Miss Lauren.”

It wasn’t an abrupt shift this time. Instead, it was gradual. Maybe because she knew what to look for? Warmth spread outwards from her chest, carrying a feeling of submissive contentment with the situation. “Take us to my room, Celia.” The command pressed against Celia’s mind, and she gave herself to it, again lifting the beaming priestess in her arms.

“Miss Lauren?” Celia asked, once they reached the priestess’s room. After touching the door to open it, she looked up at Celia questioningly. “Thank you.” For being her. Just like in New Gyr. Lauren had understood her fear, even if she didn’t share it. She had been patient, kind, and let Celia explore things safely. Being able to choose to serve, it felt soothing, it felt wonderfully safe, and it banked the needy heat that Aversa had awakened. Could she be content with this kind of control? She thought so. It felt so right, so perfect, so comfortable. But… the memory of how Aversa had taken her with force rose unbidden. The demoness hadn’t asked, hadn’t let Celia get accustomed to anything, she simply took. Just as Gella had, that first night. Just as… just as what?

She hadn’t even noticed she was crying until Lauren wrapped her in a hug. “Oh! Celia, you’re welcome. But, uh… are you okay?” They ended up in a chair with Celia in Lauren’s lap. Careful hands trailed along her back, comforting but not pressuring. “Why are you crying?”

Celia took a moment to silently curse the fae, Aversa, Gella, and any gods that happened to be listening. Not Shala, though. Shala had given her gifts enough. When had she lost so much control of herself? She could bear wounds with a stoic pride, march along roads for hours without a peep of complaint, work herself to exhaustion and come back for more. She had done those things, many times over. Her emotions had been under her control. Now it felt like her mind was on the verge of rebelling. Desires, needs, wants, all in conflict with one another, while all Celia could do was try to keep herself together.

She couldn’t shake the thought of the temptress, so she tried focusing on the situation instead. She didn’t have something to sink into, besides Lauren, and that would probably not be productive. Too much temptation. But she could let Lauren’s presence anchor her. “I…" She began, unsure of what to say. So she sighed, and let Lauren’s presence soothe her. The beating of the priestess’s heart became the center of the world. The rhythm of her breath, the slight scent of soap and shampoo that clung to their skin, it all provided something external for Celia to grip onto. “It’s a lot,” she finally managed. “Letting you control me. Just a week ago I would have been terrified. And if it wasn’t you, I still might be. But it feels so wonderful.”

Lauren’s fingers brushed Celia's back, and she smiled brilliantly. “I’m glad I can make it feel so good for you.” They stayed like that for a long moment, as Celia got her breathing back under control. “Would you like to stop for now?” It was offered so freely. She wouldn’t keep Celia under her power, not if Celia didn’t want it. She hadn’t shown the slightest hint that she even considered making Celia want it…

Celia shook her head, moving down to kiss Lauren tenderly. It was brief, and chaste, and it brightened the mood considerably. “I want to keep going, Miss Lauren.” A bloom of warmth spread at the title, and Celia’s smile turned a little shy. “Maybe… Could you give me a role to play? Like you talked about, in the city?” That idea had lurked, seductive and dark, but not so dark with Lauren here, in Celia’s mind. Being told to play as someone else, given the wonderful reward of knowing she was being a good girl.

Lauren glanced around the room, then shot up, grinning. Celia followed her gaze, to… her art supplies? “That would work perfectly,” the priestess mused. “I’ll need to put you back into a trance. Are you okay with that?”

Celia nodded. Lauren gestured for her to sit down in one of her chairs, then raised her hand, opening her mouth. The warrior’s eyes followed the motion, waiting for the flame to relight.

“Sleep,” Lauren intoned instead, and snapped her fingers. Almost by instinct, the warrior obeyed, and found herself lost in a world of thrumming patterns once more. She was holding Lauren, but at the same time, she was worlds away, yet still safe.

She let herself relax, falling backwards into the Blue serenity. Lauren’s, Miss Lauren’s words slipped by like a playful spring breeze. Once Celia heard and understood them, they danced away just as quickly, leaving her unaware, but that was perfectly fine. She nodded, agreeing to something, but what, she didn’t know.

An idea, a pattern, a something began to take shape. An idea of self, or a way of being? It didn’t matter. She felt that idea, that something, take her form. She flushed, remembering Aversa’s duplicate of her, before agreeing to something else.

“Now step into the role, Celia.” She became the something.

She blinked awake, still in the chair where she had slipped under. Once the fuzziness of the trance faded she was left with a very strange sensation. Like a gauzy veil over her thoughts. It was a light thing, and she knew she could throw it aside. It didn’t change who she was, didn’t go deep enough to be difficult to remove. Instead, the veil encircled her warrior thoughts, her instincts for combat and unity with her blade. They were there, but muted, faint, a distant concern. Instead, an idea presented itself to her. Right now, she wasn’t a warrior. She was a model. An artist’s model.

Her Miss – no, that wasn’t right, her artist smiled at her, but Celia didn’t smile back. She was a warrior, but right now, she didn’t need to fight. She felt emotion, but right now, she didn’t need to display it. She was silent. After all, who had heard of a figure which spoke and moved? That might be possible with magic, maybe, but she wasn’t magical. Gella had said so. So she sat, taking measured, slow breaths, and waited for her artist.

Celia the model let herself be moved, and she was guided into a pose, then left there for a time. She could see Lauren moving about, fussing over something rectangular on a stand, but that wasn’t something she needed to know. She was just a figurine, so she could go calm and blank. Celia the warrior was helpful, for that. She sank into the model, the idea of what she was, letting it become her. She was the model. She was still.

It felt wonderful, though that didn’t show on her face. There was a rush of pleasure at first, a heat that flared and would have made her smile in other circumstances. She considered that for a moment, wondering if a model should feel pleasure, but she was a living model, not an inanimate one. Living things felt pleasure, and she deserved to feel it, so that was fine. Her artist seemed to approve, watching the model blush with an appreciative eye. “I’m glad that you’re enjoying it,” she commented absently.

Her artist was pleased with her! That brought a deeper contentment, a deeper flush, a feeling of rightness for being so good at what she was. She was a good model. And since she was a girl, that in turn made Celia a good girl. There was a moment, a melding, and the two thoughts shifted together easily. She was a good girl, and that made her a good model. She was a good model, and that made her a good girl. The two thoughts spun, feeding each other more and more until she could think of nothing else, while her artist carefully sketched, moving the model in ways she couldn’t think to notice.

Time flowed strangely for her after that. She didn’t have so much as a thought or stray inkling to break the endless flow of good girl, good model, and she couldn’t see any kind of clock from where she was. The light from the open window was her only indicator, besides the needs of her body. At some point, she broke character, mechanically walking to the bathroom and back, thoughts still spiraling from each other, before returning to her pose. Eventually, her artist called the model to the bed, and had her lay out upon it. The mattress was soft, and her stiff body welcomed the respite.

“You did wonderfully,” her artist said softly into her ear. The earnest praise felt very nice, and sent a warm thrill all over her body. “Now go ahead and relax. Let your artist care for you.”

Lauren brought over a large piece of paper. In pencil with soft shading was… was her. Celia, captured in perfect detail, striking even in such simple clothing. “I’ve done at least one for everyone. Even Gella let me sketch her.” Celia’s thoughts slipped out from beneath her role. She wanted to see the other girls captured in pencil. Something to let her artist know once her role was finished, perhaps.

Her artist… Lauren… Miss Lauren. The kind girl with pink hair and warm hands began working and kneading Celia’s body. She let herself sink into the sensations, just as she had with the pose. Each press of Lauren’s thumbs and squeeze of her hands relaxed Celia, and she felt something shift and change as she relaxed. The model that was Celia seemed to shed off her like water, fading away and letting the warrior Celia – the real Celia – take the forefront.

She drifted in a daze, laying on her back in Lauren’s bed. She still knew that there were things she was following, things she didn’t remember. The priestess, her Miss Lauren, no longer her artist, was looking at her adoringly. “You took to that so well, Celia. You’re such a good girl.” Heat whispered across Celia’s body, pleasant but distant. It was Lavender, dark and deep. “Now, awaken,” she said, and leaned down.

Her lips met Celia’s, and at the same time, the haze vanished like morning dew before the sun. She was awake, and still under Lauren’s power. “That was wonderful, Miss Lauren,” she sighed, grabbing hold of the priestess for a hug. To be so devoted to her role, knowing it wasn’t her, but knowing it was temporary, letting herself enjoy it, felt amazing. Other ideas bubbled up, other things she could try. A Celia who was a maid like Violet, a Celia who was as giggly and carefree as Lauren was when she wasn’t being steadfast, or even a kitty Celia who was as needy as Tabby.

“No fair!” Tabby suddenly yelled through Lauren’s closed door, as if the world had heard her thoughts. Both Lauren and Celia started, then looked at each other. “You don’t get to keep Celia all to yourself!” Celia’s face twisted in horror for a moment, before she relaxed. It was fine. If she was going to be a part of this, she was going to be with the beastkin too. And, she realized, she still didn’t truly have an answer. Lauren had shown her a soft kind of control. What would the cat-girl show her?

She nodded to Lauren, who smiled, and went to open the door.

The moment she did, Tabby burst in, dressed in only a loose robe that showed off far more than it hid. Her head darted from Celia on the bed, to Lauren smiling gently, then back to Celia. “Oh! Did I interrupt? Or have you not started yet?” She let out a low purr.

“Miss Lauren hasn’t had me do anything like that.” Celia realized her mistake too late. Tabby’s eyes went wide, and she froze, then turned to gape at Lauren.

“You?” She looked incredulous, but then began to nod. “No, no, wait, I see it.” She grinned approvingly, then laughed as she caught sight of the sketch. “Seems you had some fun already, then!”

She froze, then turned, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “So… she’s open to playing games, and no one told me?!” she nearly yelled. “Oooooooh… This is gonna be so. Much. Fun…” Lines of green energy flashed along Tabby’s body and with a blur of motion she was back out the door. Lauren blinked, opened her mouth, closed it, then shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“That’s… probably going to be fine?”