CHAPTER 13

The blade in Celia's hand cleaved the air. She didn’t think about it. She didn’t need to. All she needed was to just let long hours of practice drive her body, even as her eyes were closed. Her thoughts were placid and calm. Lauren’s voice, her guidance, was all she had to focus on. It sounded, crystal clear, in her mind. There was a sound on her right, barely audible. She pivoted, bearing the momentum into a sweeping slash, reducing the conjured ball of light to a shower of sparkles. Her mind tingled, a sense of correctness and a tiny dose of pleasure.

Then, the moment broke, as the pleasure sparked more, and more, and more. Memories of smooth tawny skin, warm and alluring. Tabby’s emerald green eyes smoldering in the dim light of her room. She grimaced, eyes still closed, as a controlled swing missed a ball, no faint repulsion meeting her blade. She took a deep breath, in, and out, and tried to envision the distracting thought leaving with the air. Lauren’s voice helped. It gave her a fixed point to anchor on. She could simply flow through the bladework.

Her mind obliged, coming unstuck from the cat-girl and flowing through with her motions, perfect and serene. Two more orbs faded to glittering dust. She breathed, she pivoted, she slashed. Moved with grace, just like Tabby would. Ishara’s eyes! she swore, grimacing again. Her lithe, toned body slipped into Celia’s thoughts with a dancer’s grace. She could practically hear the beastkin’s warm purr, beckoning Celia to her knees, and…

She yelped, the little ball coming in contact with her skin with a mild jolt. She knew the jolt wasn’t real, knew it was in her head, but that didn’t make it any less real to her. She tried to regain her calm, focusing on Lauren’s presence, both physical and on her mind, to once again center herself. It barely helped. The enticing phantoms were too persistent.

Tabby had plans for Celia. Celia hadn’t seen the cat-girl give less than her all to anything. And she had turned that force of will to her plans for Celia.

“Break time!” Lauren’s voice chimed, cutting through her fragmented focus. She opened her eyes, taking things in, and slipped out of that trancelike state. She was standing in the practice yard in bright sunshine. A bracing breeze blew down from the mountains, shaking the trees and making her shiver. Lauren waved her over to a bench by the side of the practice area, offering a cup of water. “You got forty out of fifty! Well done, given, y’know, things.” Lauren giggled, watching happily as Celia gratefully drank.

Celia wiped her lips with the back of her sleeve and grinned back at her. She hadn’t thought of doing her weapons practice while entranced, but it had proven very enjoyable, and frankly very familiar. It wasn’t far from practicing sword forms, where she drove herself into the steel. The pure focus had helped her tune out any lingering fears, the lurking dread over Aversa, everything but being the best warrior she could be.

Being awake and aware brought back the little sting she felt, looking at the sword in her hand. It was a serviceable practice weapon. Until she’d been here, she wouldn’t have thought to train with her sword in combat. It still felt strange, but Lauren was better than any curate, and Daniel’s care kept her sword sharp better than she could. Oh, sure, he had several blades for practice in varying dullnesses, since many of the Heralds felt the same way she had once. But now it was a reminder that her blade was still in Aversa’s clutches. To be returned to Gella – and the mage would not be happy with her – or to her, were she to bend the knee.

Bending the knee. It was such a strange thing to think about for her, but she was growing to accept the idea more and more. Not to Aversa. As much as that thought stoked her lust, the demoness didn’t have anyone’s interests but her own at heart. To Gella… maybe. She was coming around to that, largely thanks to Lauren. She had shown a control that was soft, almost ephemeral. The priestess kept the trances light, letting her feel and remember most everything. She knew she could rouse herself, even deep as she was. And thinking about how deeply Lauren obviously cared for her brought a warm smile to her lips.

It hadn’t been overtly sexual, either. That had been secondary. Oh, she gave a fair amount of kisses, and sought cuddles and intimacy, but she seemed more than content without it too. And it felt wonderful to be lavished with that attention, but something in her craved a different kind of care, a rougher and more demanding kind. She followed that trail of thought to Tabby, and her promise of fun.

The excitable cat-girl had left straight from Celia’s room, and apparently headed toward Wand’s Reach at breakneck speed according to Lathrion. Celia hadn’t even had a chance to catch up and ask her anything about her plans.

“What are you grinning at?” Lauren asked softly.

Warm contentment bloomed anew when Celia turned to look at her Miss Lauren. “Just thinking about what Tabby’s plan is, Miss Lauren.” Gods, it felt good to be vulnerable like this, with her. More than she had ever thought it could. The priestess expected nothing beyond what Celia gave, and practically radiated comfort and security.

Lauren giggled into her hand. “Oh, I’m sure it will involve a lack of clothing, and probably quite a few moans.”

Celia rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. That’s implied. Besides that.” She was smiling, though. She was going to submit to Tabby, she had made her mind up on that. Aversa had lit the fire, given her a taste of just how good it could feel, but it was Celia’s choice to try and experiment. She was still wary of submitting to the mage herself, and Aversa wasn’t even an option. If only the needy dark part of her would stop reminding her how damned good the demoness had made her feel.

Tabby would surely quench that fire. Or at least give her an outlet, a way to manage it. Lauren shifted next to her, and the warrior grinned. Well, for now, she had her outlet. It might not be the same, but it was good, it was great, to be with her friend, her Miss Lauren.

“You know she’s going to try to pull you in too, Miss Lauren.”

The priestess simply shrugged, still smiling radiantly. “She might. She might not have to. I tend to join, let her have her fun.” She glanced sidelong at Celia and gave a playful wink. “That first morning wasn’t all playacting, you know. Tabby is wonderful with her tongue.”

Celia flushed. The shock had faded with time from that demonstration, leaving just heat and shame and lust. Tabby and Lauren’s naked bodies, Violet rendering her helpless, and above it all, Gella, a queen amongst her subjects. Focusing on Damian leading the Heralds through a series of drills on the other side of the yard, Celia took a deep breath.

It didn’t help much, not when her mind kept wandering to each toned body in turn, and bringing up thoughts of how each would look naked.

“Miss Lauren,” she began, trying to keep the rising need out of her voice. “Can I go back to training?”

Before Lauren could answer, they both stiffened as something unnatural caught their eyes. Then they relaxed. It was just Violet, wearing that black armor that reflected no light, looking like a hole in the world. Unnerving to see from the corner of your eye, but nothing to worry about. Her hair was done up in a simple ponytail. Was she going out? In daylight, with that armor?

“Lauren, Celia,” she greeted each with a nod once she reached them.

Lauren smiled back with her usual cheer, and Celia returned the nod. At least it was hard to imagine her naked as she was, what with her entire body being a silhouette. “What brings you out here?” She ventured.

“You and I haven’t had a chance to spar yet, Celia. Would you like to?” As she said that, a brief smirk crossed her lips, and the warrior bristled.

She was at odds. Violet was an incredibly skilled fighter, strong and fast beyond mere physical capabilities, and she used a style with different aims than that of a swordsman. A large part of her wanted to straighten, to grab her practice blade and fight, to test her mettle against an assassin. But a new sensation, no less powerful and incredibly seductive, held her back. Lauren was in charge of her today until sunset. Lauren had woven her control over Celia, letting her sink in soft wonderful servitude. Celia frowned, mulling the situation over until her Miss Lauren came to her rescue.

Two fingers on Celia’s cheek guided the warrior effortlessly into a gentle kiss. Pink-rimmed eyes flashed with excitement. “Go on Celia. Have fun, and do your best.”

Celia had heard speeches from captains and commanders before. Impassioned calls for every warrior to give their best. To reach into their souls and go beyond their limits, for some ideal or a distant leader. They were powerful, yes, stirring some primal drive for unity that lay deep in every person. Men would kill for ideals like that. She had killed for ideals like that. Bastards who weren’t worth the air they breathed, but still.

And not one of those rallies had affected Celia as deeply as this gentle smile, soft kiss, and a simple imperative. Do your best.

The words filled her, energized her, becoming coals in her heart. This was something she did well. She grabbed her sword as quickly as she could, strapping a simple shield to her forearm with almost reckless abandon.

Bursting alight, Celia readied her blade, and waited for Violet to begin.

Her mind flicked over the combatants of the manor. Gella fought with a minimalistic grace. Lathrion fought with versatility. Damian, and to a lesser extent his Heralds, fought with focused precision. Tabby, though she hadn’t seen the beastkin fight directly, would almost certainly be pure brute force. What would the elf show her?

Gella, she realized, as light glinted off needles that were suddenly all too close, sand crossed in a blink. Celia brought up her shield, but was driven back by a forearm slam, the pivot too fast for her eyes. No, she’s not imitating Gella. Gella learned from her.

Celia faltered, off balance, but managed to bring her sword up, trying to –

She froze, feeling a prick at the side of her neck. “Yield,” she managed, coughing from the sheer suddenness of it all.

Violet released her, and Celia dropped, panting, though she hadn’t even exerted herself much. How did you fight that?

Practice and training.

Grimacing, she hauled herself back up, meeting Violet’s smug gaze. Miss Lauren was watching and cheering her on. She had to give her a better show than that. “No magic this time,” she said, and Violet’s smirk deepened. “Tough,” she snapped. “I want a fair fight, not whatever that was.”

Violet shifted back into a ready stance, still smirking. “Alright then. No magic.” And with that, she moved.

________________

It was hours later, and Celia was feeling it. She was soaked in sweat, hair plastered to her forehead. Her muscles ached, and she grit her teeth at the pain of myriad cuts and scrapes. But on a different level, a level beyond her body’s responses, she was soaring. Despite her heavy breathing, despite the aches and pains – or because of them? – she was doing her best for Miss Lauren, and it felt fantastic.

Violet hadn’t escaped unscathed either. She was skilled, overwhelmingly so, but without magic aiding her she wasn’t outside Celia’s ability to match. She was breathing just as hard, and her hair had pulled free of its neat ponytail, some part of the knot having been cut during the fights, leaving a small halo of ragged purple.

She had scored winning moves on Violet, absorbed by the armor, but wins all the same. Not as often as she would have liked, but she had to acknowledge the gap in their skills, and her unfamiliarity with the style was a factor. She had won nine bouts to Violet’s fifteen, not counting the first one.

“You did damn good, Celia,” Damian called from the sidelines, to a chorus of agreements from the Heralds. Celia grinned and raised a fist, then dropped it in surprise as a pink blur crashed into her from the side, and she went down.

“That was amazing!” Miss Lauren cheered, heedless of the sand as she held Celia in a bear hug. The praise, delivered so earnestly, flooded her with warmth and bubbled up into a dreamy smile. Her body which had seconds ago been a finely honed weapon melted into lovely softness, and she let herself sink into the embrace. Distantly, she noticed Lauren plucking away the practice sword and shield, but she was too comfortable for things like that. The hug ended, and a hand was extended for her to pull herself back up to her feet. She took it. “Follow me,” Miss Lauren ordered.

That was hardly necessary. Celia was reminded of that first morning, Lauren eagerly pulling her along to the kitchen to meet Tabby. She had followed then because the cute priestess had been so enthusiastic. Now though, she followed because Lauren’s soft control had robbed her of her will to resist. Or rather, she had eagerly given it away. Whatever the case, Celia was happy to let herself be led back into the manor, her thoughts a pleasantly warm haze.

________________

The beguiling pattern of fire and light easily captured all of Celia’s attention. It had become almost familiar, a friend, a counterpart to the fire within. It hovered serenely before the warrior, right at her eye level, and she didn’t need to do a single thing. She could just gaze deeply into its depths, Blue regardless of the color. Slender, careful fingers ran through her hair, each pass leaving a soothing wave of warmth.

“How do you feel, Celia?” It was a voice she trusted. A voice that made her feel safe, made her feel content.

“Blue,” the word slipped out softly. She didn’t need to think about the question, she just needed to answer. While Blue was the most prominent answer, she was a tapestry. Green threads danced through the image, mixed with Lavender and Yellow, with Indigos at the edges. Thinking, she selected the most prominent weaves. “Green and Lavender,” she added softly.

“I want you to think back to the cave in the woods with the fae. They slipped ideas into your mind. Can you remember what they are?”

Her memory flickered to the cave with Deborah and Samuel. Distant echoes of the embarrassment she felt being so easily tricked and captured flowed through her, and were quickly engulfed by the flames, irrelevant. She was content, lost in the Blue. “Yes,” she said dreamily. “I deserve to feel pleasure. I’m proud of my body. I can drop my guard and focus on pleasure with those I want to share it with.”

Each idea had a distinct sheen in the flames. A fire that had been fae magic, a logic introduced, but one that flowed so easily into her own flame. The ideas felt right to her. She had indulged and felt amazing, and the soft caresses of Indigo heat encouraged her to continue doing so.

“Does it feel good to have your mind changed like that?” That warm voice asked, each touch along her scalp sending the warrior further into the endless blue sky.

Celia weighed that. Being changed had sounded terrifying before, and even here in the depths of the Blue the idea burned with angry Red and Orange. The actual result had been pleasant, if worrying at times. The swirls of Lavender and Indigo curled about her. “Yes. It feels good,” she finally agreed.

“But you prefer to trust the person changing your mind, right?”

“Yes,” Celia agreed instantly. That wasn’t even a question. It was a matter of deep trust. She wouldn’t let just anyone into her mind, not of her own will. Regardless of the fact that her will seemed to be less than important to some.

“Who do you trust that much, Celia?”

“Lauren.” It was an easy answer. Gella was too much of an unknown. Trust to work with, yes, but trust with such power, no. And Aversa had simply taken her. As Indigo as that was, it was laced with Orange, but she still moaned softly at the memory. She knew it was dangerous, but the immediate pleasure felt far more real. Both thoughts and pleasure faded quickly, drowned out by the peaceful, placid Blue.

There was silence for a long while. Celia’s thoughts were mere wisps, unimportant before the overwhelming sky.

A warm weight settled in her lap, and she caught the light scent of perfume. Lauren’s lips placed a delicate kiss on Celia’s neck, and she moaned, grabbing the priestess’s body in a soft hug. She was enveloped in a sense of softness, her strength unneeded. “You can trust Violet just as much as you trust me.” Lauren’s voice was so dreamy. It sounded as soft as Celia felt, and she nodded.

Violet really was easy to trust. She had been kind and welcoming ever since Celia arrived at the manor. What she had done was in Celia’s interests – cleaning her up, ensuring she didn’t dirty the manor, tracking down the fae – Violet would be just as careful with her mind, Celia knew. She could trust Violet as deeply and fully as she trusted Lauren.

A cup was placed in her hand. “This is a potion that will keep you feeling so Blue, Celia, so calm and relaxed. Drink.”

She was vaguely curious, but did as she was asked. It was faintly sweet and had a mild tingle to it. The fire in front of her slowly began to fade, and her inner fire returned to normal. A moment later, something washed through her mind, dousing the flame. Her thoughts stilled, leaving peace and contentment behind.

She smiled languidly, melting into the couch she was still on. Lauren made a cute little noise, before shifting to keep her position, curled up in Celia’s lap. It was far far too adorable for Celia to ignore, and she squeezed the priestess tighter for a moment.

“She has such a lovely smile. It warms my heart everytime I see it.” Violet’s voice. A moment later the elven woman came from behind the couch.

Celia nodded in agreement, smiling wistfully at the drowsy priestess. “Put her on the other couch for now. I want us to talk.”

Celia nodded again. They were talking right now, but Violet had told her to do something, and she wanted to do as Violet told her to do. That prompted a giggle and a grin. She really liked doing as she was told, as it turned out, in the right circumstances. She carefully gathered Lauren in her arms and deposited her on the other couch, letting the pinkette sprawl out.

“You’re very suggestible right now, Celia,” Violet said evenly. Well, she certainly felt suggestible. Her mind was swimming, no longer in the lovely blue sky, but in a hazy Blue cloud of whatever potion she had drank. It felt nice, and it made her smile brightly. Violet beckoned with her finger, and Celia obliged, laying her head on her lap.

“Tell me how your meeting with Aversa went last night.” Violet’s voice was calm and even, and Celia momentarily felt a spike of alarm, before she remembered Aversa’s words. Lathallen knows I’m here, of course. Nothing hides from her. The rest of the memory came, but it felt oddly detached, adrift. Like she was watching herself from the outside, but her point of view was still the same. She described her midnight creep through the manor, her exploration of the basement, and the odd scene Aversa had conjured.

Going through the seduction, even so detached, ignited her desires once more. A crawling heat crept up her body, and her depictions started getting more and more lurid. She went through the offer to be Aversa’s knight, and how the demoness now had Celia’s blade, and how that blade was important, though she couldn’t quite remember why right then. By the time she finished, she was squirming.

“I see,” Violet commented, the faint light of her symbol – the mark in her soul? Strange, how that seemed alluring, even as it terrified her – easy to track in the dark room. “So you decided to offer yourself to Lauren because of what Aversa offered?”

Celia shook her head. “No,” she moaned quietly. The heat and the potion were making her thoughts muddled and thick. “Well, yes? I wanted to already. Lauren is so gentle. Aversa just… sped things along.” Fantasies flashed across her mind, finding their way to her lips without anything in the way. “Tabby is raw sex, and you’re so elegant, so poised.” Each beautiful woman took submission differently, and they all seemed to be perfectly happy with it. Only Violet had expressed regret, but in the same conversation she’d said she would choose this again. “I wanted to feel it. Aversa showed me how good it was. Being a good girl, being a knight, being someone that serves.” She was babbling now, words flowing like water, and Violet just let her go, lightly stroking through her hair.

“How long have you wanted to do that?”

Celia tried puzzling through that, but it was difficult through the dazed heat haze her mind had become. Violet needed an answer, but it was so hard to think. She was so hot, and her thoughts kept slipping, dragging back into needy whines. It took all her effort to piece the words together. “Since I got back, I think? Dreams about you and Lauren.”

“Good girl, Celia.” The warrior had no idea what she had done, but Violet was happy with her. The heat was becoming unbearable, the praise and soft touch only fanning the flames higher and higher. She could have sworn she was melting. A whimper escaped her lips, and Violet looked supremely pleased in the dim light. “Are you getting worked up, Celia?”

She nodded eagerly. “Good girls ask for what they want,” Violet chided her.

The simple phrase felt like it was resonating, though Violet hadn’t charged her words. It was deep, a deep truth, one which she had been denying since she came to the manor. She could just ask. And what she wanted most was to… “I want to be controlled, please?” It slipped out before Celia could even begin to think. Pleasure surged through her, urging her to touch and feel and indulge. She deserved to feel pleasure, but right now, she needed to feel controlled. To feel that strong hand guide her, one she could let go and leave everything to.

A thrill of horror ran within the pleasure, as she contemplated that, if she understood correctly, this might be how Tabby felt all the time. But was she horrified for Tabby, or horrified she didn’t get to feel that way herself?

“I can give you that, Celia.” Violet promised smoothly. “Stand up and close your eyes.”

Celia hurried to obey, and felt a little spark of delight in doing so. It hummed in her chest before joining the growing heat within. “Take two steps forward,” Violet’s voice whispered, and Celia’s body moved nearly of its own accord. The room was nearly silent. Celia could hear her heart beating, smell the light fragrances Lauren and Violet wore, but those were secondary to the fog of need and desire. She didn’t dare speak. She had been told to stand and nothing else. It felt perfect, so wonderfully amazing to simply do as she was told.

“You’re being such a good girl, Celia.” Lauren’s voice, dreamy and unconcerned, nearly pulled her out of her daze. A brush of her delicate fingers along Celia’s check quickly remedied that, burying her thoughts beneath a fresh surge of desire.

“You’re perfectly safe with us,” Violet continued, and the memory of dreams past seared through the warrior. “Safe to indulge, to feel controlled.” Violet’s lips, so different from Lauren’s but no less passionate, claimed Celia’s in a kiss. “Take off your clothes, Celia.”

The warrior stripped swiftly, going by touch alone. Eagerly, she pulled her shirt away and her leggings down. The air smelled lightly of her desire, and she let out a soft moan.

“Do you remember the last time you touched yourself alone?” Violet’s voice plucked at her memories, pulling visions of just after seeing the maid in Gella’s lap. Heated needy fumbling followed, that only left her feeling more aroused. An orgasm was out of reach and the pleasurable jolts almost taunted her. She nodded, feeling her own desire redouble.

“It’s so much better with me, or Lauren.” A warm hand cupped her breast and nimbly brushed over her stiff nipple. The soft fabric of Violet’s dress brushed over her bare skin, and she shivered. Pleasure and delight brought thoughts of Tabby, and she managed to breathe out the cat-girl’s name.

“Oh, yes, it will feel wonderful with Tabitha too, or anyone else you choose to share your body with,” Violet agreed, holding the warrior close and pulling such pleasure from just the fingers on her nipple. “But we know you better. It feels so much better with us.”

“You can obey us, Celia,” Lauren’s voice added. The pinkette’s hands ghosted along Celia’s body, leaving tantalizing hints of sensation in their wake. It was so hard to tell who was doing what… “You’re already so good at it.”

Celia’s mind swirled, each voice adding to the power of the other. With her thoughts so slick and melted, she had little choice but to sink into the sensation. “It feels so good to obey, and to do as you are told.” Fingers drifted lower and teased the very edge of Celia’s slit. The warrior moaned and bucked her hips, desperate for more. “You will obey us,” Violet’s voice whispered.

She would obey Violet. She would obey Lauren. It was her choice. Those new truths bound her mind, feeling tight but not restrictive. Despite that, Celia felt a few faint worries skitter across her mind. She frowned, but Lauren soothed her with a tender kiss. “Just relax, Celia. Don’t pay attention to what Violet and I are saying until I kiss you again.” That brought a warm smile to Celia’s lips, a memory of watching a forehead tap, and she nodded.

Violet and Lauren’s voices washed over Celia like a dull murmur. Noises she didn’t need to try and listen to. She was being a good girl, and that was enough for the moment.

Soft lips brought her back. Lauren’s scent and warmth moved to her side, and the maddeningly light touches began once more. “You don’t need to obey all the time, Celia.” Violet’s voice washed away the skittering worries, leaving just the bliss of submission. “When Lauren or I say your name, then a command, then the phrase if you please, you will know you must obey.” Before Celia could fully process that, Violet’s fingers were inside Celia’s pussy and her mind was incandescent with pleasure. “You know you want this. Celia, say yes, if you please.”

The word tore itself free, breathlessly agreeing. She wanted this, wanted it so badly.

Before she could respond further, or even begin to think, Violet’s fingers slipped back in. “It will feel amazing every time you obey us. Celia, say yes, if you please.”

The word was more urgent this time. Obedience, control, and pleasure were already so tightly woven together, joined by the experiences of Cair Dwemor. Such a simple phrase to compel her obedience, and it would give her this wonderful feeling?

Touches from Lauren and kisses from Violet melted into one another. Celia’s mind was buffeted and tossed from peak to peak while the women took turns whispering into her mind. She was a good girl. She would obey. Obeying meant pleasure. Pleasure was meant to be shared, never alone.

Panting and whining, Celia bucked and squirmed, all while Lauren and Violet held her close. She needed… needed something. Release, more pleasure, a chance to obey? All of them and more clamored for space. Need pulsed raw and hot and overpowering. She felt plush carpet on her legs. “Open your eyes, Celia.”

It took a few moments for Celia’s eyes to adjust. The dim light of floating orbs of glowing yellow cast delectable shadows across Lauren’s naked body, perched on the single armchair. Her creamy legs were spread, and her desire was clear to see on her glistening naked folds. The priestess beckoned with a single finger and warm smile, and padding on hands and knees, Celia obeyed, heady scents fogging her mind ever deeper.

Lauren’s pussy captured Celia’s attention completely, and a need to repay the kind wonderful girl, one she was certain had nothing to do with the fog, welled up inside her. Fears and worries of her lack of experience were burnt in a flash and she looked up in anticipation. “Celia, make me feel good, if you please.”

Celia’s world shrank down to the place between Lauren’s legs. The silky softness of the skin beneath Celia’s fingers, the musky alluring taste of her arousal, and the pure joy of serving the pinkette fused into one, bathed in glorious heat. She kissed, she licked, she tried mimicking what Lauren had down for her back in New Gyr. She was inexperienced, but Lauren didn’t seem to mind. The pleased noises from above and the feel of fingers slipping through her hair just spurred her further and further. She lost herself in the motion, letting intuition guide her.

Another voice drifted in. Violet’s voice. The elven woman delicately brushed her hand over Celia’s heated skin while whispering praise and instruction. “Just there. Try using just the tip of your tongue.” Violet's hands held and touched, keeping the needy flame burning bright and hot. “You’re doing so well.” Celia whimpered and moaned between tentative licks, determined to make Lauren feel good, while part of her nearly screamed for her own release.

Lauren’s body shivered and writhed under Celia’s inexpert touch. The priestess swore to Shala, thanking her in a breathy, delighted purr. Her hands gripped Celia’s hair a little more firmly, and suddenly, her body went taut. Keening to the heavens in delight, she pressed against Celia’s lips for a long moment before she collapsed back into the chair.

“Good girl, Celia,” Violet purred, pulling Celia into a kiss. She returned it eagerly, every bit of her body demanding more. Her hands wrapped around Violet’s body, and she began making out with the woman with eager abandon.

Far too soon for Celia’s liking she was carefully pulled away. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her pussy ached for the slightest touch, but she remained kneeling. The bliss of submission bound her, and she hadn’t been told to do more than kneel and luxuriate in her own desires. “Lauren,” Violet began, looking Celia in the eyes. “Cleanse Celia of my potion, please.”

Lauren’s gentle voice uttered the purification spell, words buzzing, and the drugged haze vanished from Celia’s mind. There was clarity, but it couldn’t extend past the tempest of need and desire. The truths Lauren and Violet had slipped into Celia’s mind were still strong and clear, and they made Celia tremble. Mostly from desire, but Red lances of fear burned trails here and there. She focused on what she knew, what was bedrock to her. She trusted Lauren completely, and by that fact, she trusted Violet completely.

“Please,” she whispered, not caring now how soft and weak her voice was. She didn’t need her strength, didn’t want it right now. Not when it felt so much better to be weak. “Please, Violet.” She was begging, but she didn’t care. It might have been a little humiliating, but both women were so good to her that it didn’t feel bad at all.

Violet’s hand cupped Celia’s cheek, and the warrior nuzzled into it. “Please what, Celia?” She asked, voice faintly teasing. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes!” Celia nearly yelled. Her body was burning, every sensation magnified and enhanced. For a moment, she remembered the sheer white hot need Aversa had ignited with her soulgaze. This wasn’t as strong, but it was so, so much more intimate.

Violet made a humming sound, a thoughtful look on her face. The hand on Celia’s cheek trailed down, over one breast and down her tummy. “Lay back, Celia.” The warrior hurried to comply. She spread herself on the plush carpet, looking up into Lauren’s dreamy face. Something clicked.

“Are you… oooooh…” Whatever question she had melted into a dreamy sigh. Violet seemed to know just where to touch.

Violet continued easily, slowly slipping her fingers in and out of Celia’s pussy. She seemed to know exactly when Celia was coming close to the edge, and exactly how much to ease off at the last possible second to keep her there. Wild ideas of bringing herself off shot forward, and burnt out almost immediately. That wouldn’t be being a good girl at all. Again Aversa’s testing whispers brushed her memory. Good girls earned the right to an orgasm. She had fought against that. Her pleasure was hers alone! But… she was a good girl now. She was obeying, and even if it left her a panting writhing needy mess, it still felt amazing.

“I could let you cum, Celia.” She bent forward and placed a searing hot kiss among the blonde curls above Celia’s slit. Before Celia could beg further, Violet silenced her with one slick finger to her lips. “Or…" She continued, slipping the finger between Celia’s lips. The warrior swirled her tongue around, tasting the products of her own need and submission. “I could let you be a good girl for a while longer. Which will it be? Celia, answer honestly, if you please.”

Again Celia was torn between two opposing forces. Her body was on the knife’s edge of an orgasm Celia was certain would be beyond mind blowing. Her mind knew that being a good girl would be a deeper, more profound pleasure. The sensations roiled and swelled, urging Celia to pick one or the other. Celia forced herself to consider as much as she could, despite Violet’s continued teasing. There was a shift in her mind, a crack of something that shouldn’t be touched, but Celia cried out. “Please let me be a good girl!”

She felt fractured, clinging to herself in the aftermath of that revelation. Something far away, dark and angry, that something pulsed once and was smothered quickly. She would never have considered it, choosing further submission. It resonated so powerfully, though. It felt so right. Hot tears poured free, unrelated to pain or sadness, and Lauren pulled her head into the priestesses lap. The deluge of sensation pulled at her before Violet’s voice cut through the chaos. “Obeying is better than cumming, isn’t it Celia?”

No potion forced the idea in, and no conditioned phrase helped her accept it, only the undeniable truth of it. She yearned for the thundercrack of pleasure, the sense of blissful relief, but submission felt better, so much deeper. Even if she ached, and squirmed, and felt so damned horny she would choose to be a good girl.

She nodded. Words were currently beyond her. “Very good, Celia. You’ve done very well. Of course, the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Celia, cum now, if you please.” Violet slipped her fingers in deep and pressed on Celia’s clit, circling it. There was a jolt all along her body, and the building surge carried Celia up and over into pure, incoherent pleasure.

Time passed, and eventually Celia was left floating in the calm lagoon of afterglow. Giddy and giggly, she was being held in Lauren’s lap. A lock of pink hair draped over her body and she idly toyed with it. “I’ll be right back,” Violet said smoothly, rising and returning illumination in the room with a touch to the crystal by the door.

Her memories flowed like syrup. She had been with Violet and Lauren after their sparring match. They had all taken a bath together, but after that… after that was simply a blur of sensations. Of warm power ensnaring her mind, and taking her back into the place of content Blue in her mind. “Lauren?” She asked softly, looking up into her friend’s soft glassy eyes.

The priestess looked down, as calm and dreamy as ever. Celia could see it in her eyes, a distance that told her that Lauren was in trance. Still, she wanted to be certain. “Are you under Violet’s spell?”

Lauren nodded, and Celia felt the pit of unease open back up. This was her friend, the wonderful kind girl that had so gently led her step by step into life here at the manor. But she was also under Violet’s control. The warrior had felt how good it could feel, to be guided, and how she was still much the same while being controlled. The unease receded a bit. “So…” She smiled awkwardly. “What… um… What did Violet command you to do?”

It reminded her of asking Tabby while she was under, in this very room not so long ago. Lauren was considerably more alert, though and were it not for the glassy eyes Celia wouldn’t have any clue Lauren was even hypnotized. “She had me help her enthrall you. She asked me what parts you liked, what parts still made you scared.” The dreamy smile turned warm and sensual. “And she told me to make sure you enjoyed it.”

“You… uh… you followed that instruction very well, Lauren,” Celia chuckled.

“Thank you,” Lauren replied brightly.

“She came up with the idea to have a phrase for you to follow, in fact,” Violet added, stepping back into the room with a pitcher of water and several glasses. “It also gives you leeway in how you serve, which I appreciate.” Celia winced at that, but Violet didn’t point it out. Instead, she knelt close to the pair and handed them each a glass.

Celia took hers and drank slowly. It felt lovely after the long day, cooling some of the heat and easing the dryness in her throat. Gella, Lauren, and now Violet, each of them now had a simple way to steal her will away from her. Had, in fact, stolen her will away from her at least in part. But was that so bad? She trusted Lauren, obviously, and she trusted Violet in turn. And Gella seemed to be keeping her word about not using hers. Hells, she had offered to get rid of it. So there was no stab of panic, no rumble of fear. In their place she felt a growing sense of belonging. As unlikely as it seemed before, Gella really had been on the level about being one of her Treasures.

She handed the empty glass back to Violet. “Are we going to continue?” She asked before wincing at how much it sounded like a plea. Violet and Lauren just shared a smile, and the pinkette shifted to kiss Celia’s neck.

The warrior sighed happily as Lauren leaned close to her ear. “Celia, sleep for us, if you please.”

It started with a tingle in her mind, a little playful spark of recollection. Then, that spark shifted to a thick comfortable haze, spreading inexorably through her mind. She blinked heavily, eyelids like lead. There was a little flare, her inner flame reacting to keep her awake. Instinctive. But why? This was perfectly safe.

“Trying to stay awake?” Violet observed thoughtfully. Her hand brushed along Celia’s bare skin, sending ripples of pleasure across the growing comfortable lethargy.

Celia nodded. Quite why she was resisting was beyond her. The flare was gone, and she was muted, guttered, reduced to embers. Still there, but… not.

“Good girls do as they are told, Celia,” Violet said sternly, but warmly. “Sleep.”

The haze became a flood, and Celia surrendered with a blissful smile.

________________

The warm embrace of trance retreated slowly. She sat up, noting she was lying on an unfamiliar bed, but she paid it little mind. The distant magical hum and the style of the room told her she was still in Cair Dwemor. Stretching her arms up over her head, she twisted until her spine gave a satisfying pop. A pleasant numbness still clouded her mind, so she simply sat on the bed, luxuriating in it, and looked around.

The decorations all incorporated leaves and vines and images of dense woodlands. The room itself was immaculate, everything exactly in its place, crisp and clean with a faint floral scent. Were the glass tubes she saw by the window perfuming the room? Well, it was Violet’s room, she assumed. It almost felt like a caricature, every stereotype about elves rolled into one. But stereotypes had to come from somewhere, didn’t they?

The elven woman stepped in, and Celia smiled at her. “Feeling nice and well rested?”

She did. She felt like she’d had a full night’s rest, in fact. But no, it was still dark out. Unless she’d slept that long? She nodded at Violet, and the maid returned it.

“Very good. Celia, begin the game, if you please.” Violet's words pulled a short gasp from the warrior, as her eyes slammed shut and ideas unfolded in her mind. Something changed, something she couldn’t explain, disparate parts coming together as a harmonious whole. Something was manifesting around her, called by Violet’s words. It didn’t feel physical, but she wasn’t sure.

Whatever it was, it hovered only a breath away before halting. She was being given a chance to accept or deny. There was a sense of hidden depths, ideas and rules just beneath the surface that she wasn’t privy to. Each and everyone reinforced a singular theme. Safety. For her and for everyone at the manor. Ironclad and as inevitable at the tides, safety was paramount to whatever it was she was being asked to accept.

“I would love to play,” she replied, her voice loud and clear.