Chapter 16

As she approached the Grotto, Celia found something she didn’t usually associate with sex: a queue. It made sense that Lauren would need to prepare her spells before allowing people in, but... her perception of things like this didn’t really include order. Wasn’t sex supposed to be chaotic, passionate?

But she had to admit she wasn’t exactly an expert on the subject.

She glanced at the people in the queue. The Heralds were there, but that was to be expected. There was Daniel, the smith, who caught her eye and grinned, and Larion, who gave her a faint nod. The people who had come from Wand’s Reach were there. Obviously. This was why they were here. The only thing that struck her as odd was that Damian wasn’t there. Was he okay?

She let Violet’s steel reinforce her, driving away the creeping anxiety. I can do this.

“Hey, I’ll be back. I just need to outline everything real quick!” Tabby chirped, dashing away to the front of the line before Celia could respond. The beastkin climbed on a table inside, which earned her some light cheers.

“Hey, everyone!” she called. “I know you’re all eager to get started.” The cheering grew louder. “But as the regulars know, we have to be safe. I mean, you all want to be able to be back for more, right?” Celia hadn’t expected any less after Lauren’s explanation, but it was still welcome.

“We will be using the usual spells from my lovely assistant.” She gestured to Lauren, who just gave her cheery warm smile and a wave. “For all the usual people, you know who you are,” she added with a wink, which got her some chuckles. “We’ll be using the marker system. I’ll explain for the new people, but it’s simple enough.” She grinned at Celia, who flushed. Surely I’m not the only new person... “The color of the marker is permission. Black’s for anything goes, no need to ask. Green’s for anything goes, but it’s preferred if you ask first. Red’s for discussion required for anything, and finally white, for service staff. The white glyph means we’re happy to play, just like green, but we may need to leave if something requires our attention.” She took a wand from Lauren and tapped herself with it, and whiteness spread from the point of contact, coalescing in an intricate white glyph just above her breasts and on the backs of both hands. “If you want to change your color at any time, just come to Lauren.” With that, she slipped back to the ground.

Celia was stunned at how organized it all seemed. Tabby had given the impression of a wild soul, and that definitely was there in her attitude, but... Color coded glyphs, and a service staff that included Tabby herself. She would’ve bet anything on the cat girl giving herself a black glyph. Would she... No. The thought of being taken like that, even if she trusted everyone involved - which was not a guarantee, with the group from Wand’s Reach - would be much too distracting to her mission. That let her ignore the tiny red hot kernel whispering how amazing it would feel. Mostly.

She forced the thought down as much as she could, setting steel to brace herself. Her will was far less effective at pushing away those thoughts than it had been only weeks ago, but Violet’s control let her focus through that need anyway. The group was beginning to enter the Grotto now, and Celia found herself curious how it had been prepared for the party.

As she got to the door, she was nudged by a very excited looking Tabby, with a much less excited but hardly unenthusiastic Lauren. “Sooo...” Tabby began, grinning and pointing at Celia. “What color would you like?”

“Red, please,” she said easily. Even if she didn’t have a mission... would she have? She wasn’t sure.

“Sure you don’t want something a little more adventurous?” Tabby teased, but Lauren shushed her playfully with a finger.

“Don’t let her goad you, Celia,” Lauren giggled. “The most important thing for you is to enjoy yourself.”

Tabby rolled her eyes and gave the silencing finger a quick lick, and Lauren pulled back, giggling harder. “Fine, fine,” Tabby conceded with a warm affectionate smile. “I am really glad you’re willing to do this, Celia.”

Celia smiled back despite the faint prickle of guilt. She had wanted to open herself up to Tabby, before she had taken her place as Violet’s knight... but now she was using it as a chance to convert the excitable cat girl. In a very real way, it was a betrayal, wasn’t it?

A tap of a wand from Tabby made her focus back on the present, and she noted idly the faint tingle that ran along her hands and across her chest. She looked down and saw the same intricate whorl that Tabby had, colored in a vibrant orange-red. She raised her hand, brushing across the pattern, but felt nothing but smooth skin. She may have gotten more used to the casual use of magic, but it still sparked moments of wonder like this.

She was pulled from her musings - again - by Tabby gesturing down the stairs. “If you want to head down now, you’ll find a basket with your name on it to put your clothes in, and anything else you want to keep safe. They’re warded to only recognize the person who put things in them.” Celia eyed the stairs with an uncertain glance, apprehension returning. “Or,” Tabby continued, “you can wait up here, and I’ll come down with you when everyone else is in.”

Celia nodded, grateful that the unasked question had been apparent.

After everyone had entered, she caught sight of a group surrounding Lauren through the now-empty doorway. Her eye picked out a few of the male Heralds, and Larion too. Why were they... Oh.

With a growing blush, she watched as each slipped their pants down enough to expose themselves, and in a clearly practiced motion, Lauren cupped them, whispered a resonant incantation, and left behind a faint glow which faded quickly.

“What in the world?” Celia murmured.

“I told you, Lauren has a spell ready,” Tabby giggled in Celia’s ear. “Nobody here will have to worry about any real consequences for sex for a day or so. Makes things simpler. Now, are you ready to go?”

Celia nodded hesitantly, then steeled herself and nodded firmly, and began her descent. The flowing water that could be heard from the hallway was quickly joined by the rustle of cloth and the dull murmur of conversation, getting more pronounced the deeper she went.

The area just beyond the stairs had been sectioned off with some hanging sheets. A little space to change, it seemed. Odd, considering Lauren had been working her magic in the open. Two of the Heralds, Tiffany and Eirinn, were already in the process of stripping down, both with green whorls decorating their skin. Celia smiled at them, and they returned the gesture. Eirinn was shorter, with short messy brown hair. What she hadn’t seen was an incantation, tattooed on her pale skin just below her waistline.

She caught Celia staring and gave her a flirty wink. “I swear by the shadows,” she said in a throaty brogue.

“I’m sorry?” Celia blurted, suddenly looking away with a flush.

“My tattoo,” she replied smoothly. “It is a dedication to Rada. You were curious what it meant, no? Maybe you’ll get some time to study it, if you’re good.” She chuckled as she slipped silken robes over her body, padding behind the curtain.

“She’s mostly harmless, you know,” Tiffany said smoothly while shrugging out of her own shirt. The taller woman had warm bronze skin framed by a flowing curtain of silky dark hair that reached her mid back. Soft brown eyes sparkled with intelligence, but her slender and toned body spoke to her skill as a warrior, and Celia was losing focus. Again. “She’ll tease and bluster as well as Tabby can.” At that, the catgirl’s ears twitched, and she stuck her tongue out in their direction. That was interesting. She hadn’t realized her hearing was so good, and hadn’t considered the applications of senses like that... “But she won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” She slipped off the last of her clothes, and draped the robe over her skin, making a lovely contrast before stepping out of the changing area.

Facing the empty basket Celia took a calming breath. She needed to stop her daydreaming. It was worse than before. It kept getting worse. And she had a job to do. She could do this. She had stripped down in front of all of them before. Nothing new about that. Except she wasn’t going for a bath. She was going to walk around nearly naked with all of them eyeing her. She was supposed to do that. Gulping, she tried to focus. This was a mission for Violet. She could do this.

“Celia? Are you ready?” Tabby asked, concern evident.

Celia nodded, though she wasn’t, and held up her hand for quiet. She shut her eyes and focused. She was stone, unyielding, unwanting. She was steel, sharp, driven. She was fire, and air was breath, and her breathing fed the fuel. In, and out.

Slowly, her breathing began to come easier, and undressing was now much less daunting. She slipped her shirt off, followed by the garment supporting her breasts. The light scent of the spring water and fragrant soap clung to her skin, and she smiled. Words whispered past her mind. She was proud of her body. She let herself untense, and her eyes open, and gave a quick nod to Tabby to ease her concerns. Her lightly tanned skin was clean and soft, and her ash blonde hair fell in a shining waterfall down her back. Even her scars felt different now. They had always been trophies, of a sort, but before they had been reasons nobody could want her. But somehow, people could like her not despite, but with the scars.

The robe was some silken material, nearly weightless, and billowed like smoke over her naked skin. The muted white color added to the effect, making it seem like she barely wore anything at all, ready to be bared at a moment’s notice. Which was probably the idea, she admitted as she stepped out and took in the much transformed Grotto.

Little floating lights had been conjured, lending the place a dim but welcoming atmosphere. The everpresent scent of spring water was tinged with a faint floral odor, one that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

“Do you like it?” Tabby asked, her smile bright.

Celia nodded wordlessly. It was like a world out of myth or story come to life, and stirred a bit of childlike wonder. Though, given the other sights, she sincerely hoped it wasn’t a story for children. Tiffany and Eirinn were curled up on a sofa, Tiffany’s feet dangling in a pool, and from the look on Eirinn’s face, Tiffany was obviously making her feel fantastic. She turned away only to practically jump out of her skin as Tabby, who had snuck up behind her without her noticing, slid a finger along her cheek. “You don’t need to be shy here, Celia,” Tabby encouraged. “They won’t mind if you look.”

As if to prove Tabby’s point, the two women were grinning when Celia looked back, though Eirinn’s grin was a lot more tired, if in a good way. She watched Tiffany withdraw glistening fingers from between Eirinn’s legs and make a small show of feeding the gathered essence back to her, eyes locked with Celia’s teasingly. Both of them watched her, and then Eirinn blew her a kiss. “See, why not go over and return that kiss? I’ll be right here if you need me,” Tabby giggled. And... blasted Ishi, she wanted to. That surprised her, after how tense she was just moments before, but her newfound confidence seemed like it was holding better than she’d expected.

But before she could throw herself into the party, before she could let herself go to allay Tabby’s suspicions, someone else who wasn’t apparently capable of perfect stealth came up behind her. Weaver, the archer that had been Tabby’s victim when she first saw the Heralds. He was slim and muscular, with black hair cut short, and skin the color of wet earthen clay under his scarlet glyph. “Hello, Celia,” he said, voice tinged with just a hint of nerves.

She glanced down, and noted his length hanging from a patch of dark hair, then quickly snapped her head back up to his soft brown eyes, only to see him enraptured by her breasts.

“I, umm...” she began.

“Do you...” he began at nearly the same time, then smiled apologetically. “Go ahead. This is your first time at one of Tabby’s parties, right?”

Celia nodded gratefully, sparing a glance at the catgirl in question, who gave her a wink and thumbs up.

“Well, we both have red marks,” he began awkwardly. His eyes returned to roaming over her body. “Can I kiss you?”

She’d known someone like him, back at the guild. Shy smiles, careful compliments, and Celia had shut him down every time. Scared of what it would lead to, scared of pleasure and passion. But she had been learning those weren’t bad things, ever since she arrived at Cair Dwemor. Passion didn’t have to consume. It could just be enjoyed. “Okay,” she agreed softly.

Their lips pressed together, and some part of her that wasn’t consumed in the moment noted a faint mintiness to his breath. The beginnings of stubble scratched against her cheek, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. It started hesitant, both of them slowly warming up to the experience. When they pulled apart, he smiled, and she returned the expression, feeling heat slowly bloom in her body. She raised her hand to his chest, feeling coarse hair over a wave of toned muscle. “I... Is that okay?” she asked lightly, remembering the rule a red mark was meant to enforce.

“I’ll let you know if I want you to stop,” he promised with a content sigh, and Celia’s hand continued its journey. It was as if something was pulling her, a force of concentrated heat seeming to urge her to close the distance between them. She barely fought it, pressing into him instead. The heat of their bodies mingled through the thin robe, which was already hanging loose. The light scent of soap, clean fabric, and a subtle hint of sweat filled her nose, and she found herself giggling in Weaver’s arms.

“Something funny?” he asked casually. Almost unconsciously, her arms gravitated back to her body, slipping under the fabric to glide over her skin.

She quickly shook her head. “No. Just...” She shook her head again, the words feeling like lead on her tongue. Kissing seemed so much easier anyways. He leaned into it, and his hand slipped further down to caress her butt. She stiffened at the touch, and he immediately pulled his hand away, looking apologetic. “You... you can,” she said after a moment. “Just getting used to it,” she added, feeling her cheeks flare in heat.

His hand returned, and the second time prompted only a happy little sigh. Living in the manor for the past week, her experiences had been varied, but everyone she had been with was... soft, in touch though definitely not in demeanor, save perhaps Lauren. Weaver was different. His hands were rougher, callused, his focus more intent. He wasn’t rough, but Celia swore she could feel the need in the archer’s breast, straining to be break free. Still, she could feel his desire, evident in every pant and half-hidden glance. “I... can I?” his breath was hot in her ear.

He held her still for a moment and seemed to gather his nerve, but his words still failed him. Instead, he lightly guided one of her hands down. His cock was hard, full, and pulsing with heat when he urged her to wrap her hand around it. She felt it, his lust concentrated and heavy in her palm, but... All at once, the heated moment broke, and she turned away flushing scarlet. “I...I’m sorry,” she said quickly, and slipped away, towards Tabby.

“I just need some time,” she blurted out by way of an explanation, the overwhelming need to be away driving her. The catgirl just nodded.

Celia floated in one of the more secluded pools, listening faintly to music that seemed to come from nowhere. It was relatively quiet, more ambiance than anything, with a deep bass, no doubt another one of the manor’s magical marvels. The warm water lapped over her body, and Celia tried to lose herself in the sensation. She needed to get her calm back, but it was proving... difficult.

She had fled, no other way to put it. She groaned, then yelped as the motion sent her mouth briefly underwater. “Fuck.” The curse mixed with the steam of her solitary pool, drifting to the rough ceiling, where a few glowing lights gathered like fireflies.

Celia swam to the lip of the pool, stone carved in such exactness that it had to be the work of either a master or that of magic. Considering the power Gella had, it could really be either one.

She righted herself, letting her feet rest on the lowest step, leaving everything below her shoulders under the water. She groaned again. Weaver hadn’t done anything more than show his desire, and she had fled like a terrified rabbit.

It hadn’t been like that for Samuel. A wry smile crossed her lips. The fact that she was under their spell had helped with that. She could still remember the feeling, however faintly. The dreamy, unconcerned acceptance. Samuel had wanted to fuck her, so he fucked her. Simple as that.

No. She needed to be awake and lucid. She needed to find a way to at least begin to suborn Tabby... which would mean going back to the press of bodies. Violet’s control agreed with this idea, and she felt the pull, subtly urging her to move, to serve Violet and secure a key piece of the game for her. But Celia stayed seated in the tranquil pool. She knew what she needed to do. That was easy. But that didn’t tell her how to do it.

Thankfully, she was given a reprieve from the spiraling plans and worries by voices approaching her pool. Still, it made things complicated, and she sighed in frustration. Then the sigh was cut short, as she recognized Lauren’s voice among the group. Turning, she looked at the pinkette’s two companions.

Clara, the only Herald who bore the Talent, and Electra, a heavy-armor specialist. Being Heralds, Celia had interacted with them on a surface level, but beyond their skills in a fight she knew next to nothing.

Clara was talking animatedly with Lauren, and it sounded like they were discussing some sort of magic. Odd, considering the party, but it didn’t stick in Celia’s attention for long. No, that was locked firmly on every exaggerated movement, and the subtle movement of her impressive breasts it caused, putting the green glyphs emblazoned above them on display. While not to the point where Celia was concerned for her health like Cassidy, Clara was among the most gifted of the women living in the manor compound. Celia had asked about the fact that some sets of the mage’s armor showed off her breasts, once, and she’d gotten a laugh. It has a similar effect as my hair, she’d said, grinning as she gestured to what had been emerald locks at the time, but were vivid blue with that green at the tips now. It tends to... distract people.

Standing a foot or so behind Clara, also decorated with a green glyph, was Electra. She wasn’t saying anything, merely smiling at her partner in battle, and, Celia had heard, partner in life as well. The woman’s tanned skin was frankly sculpted. She couldn’t help but stare, looking over rippling abs and defined arms and I’m getting distracted. Gods, Clara’s right, isn’t she?

When they got to Celia’s pool, she gave them a small wave, trying to cover her embarrassment. Lauren returned the wave, but Clara’s mismatched blue and green eyes went wide. Huh. I wonder if that’s another distraction, or if it’s natural? “Holy shit! When Tabby mentioned you were coming to one of her parties, I thought she was trying to pull one over on me!”

Electra’s reaction was much more measured. She simply gave a warm look to her partner, then inclined her head to Celia. “It’s nice to see you.” A small smile crossed her face, and she fell silent. Odd. She was usually more talkative, and...

Celia sank a little more into the water as it struck her. That was a display of submission. One the couple couldn’t have known would turn her on so much, right? Her forehead crinkled as she tried to keep control of herself. Lauren stepped into the pool behind her, and began rubbing her temples in little circles, and oh Trygg that’s nice.

Clara and Electra slipped in on the opposite side of the pool, about three feet away. “What’s got you down, Celia?” the mage asked, moving behind Electra. “Gluais.” Celia tensed at the sudden spell, but relaxed as soon as she saw the effect: rivulets of water lifting from the pool. The water collected into an orb, then began to drip, making a miniature rainstorm over Electra’s head

It was fascinating to watch Clara use her magic. Not for its rarity, of course. Lauren and Gella both used their powers on a whim. But if either of them were capable of such fine control, Celia hadn’t had an opportunity to see it. She sincerely doubted that was beyond Gella’s capabilities, though.

It took her a moment of marveling, noting the flow and slightly strange shape of the drops - was she controlling even those? - before she registered that she had been asked a question. “Oh!” she blushed, recalling what had driven her from the main party. “I... umm...” she stammered, “Weaverkissedme.” Then what she’d said registered, and she turned away, flushing deeper.

For a long moment the only sound in the cavern was the distant thump of music and the faint sound of splashing water. Celia glanced over and saw open confusion written on her Herald companions’ faces. A light pressure on her chin pulled her gaze up, meeting Lauren’s face upside down. “Tabby asked me to come check on you after Weaver kissed you,” she confirmed. “He did ask first, right?”

“Of course he asked her first,” Clara scoffed. “Yes, Weaver’s been making moon eyes at Celia since he first met her, but do you really think the man has the...” she gestured vaguely, “to do something like that?” The bluette turned, eyes searching but kind, to Celia. “But seeing as you’re here, and he’s making out with one of the airheads from the village, something else had to have gone wrong.”

Lauren frowned, but didn’t say anything. Which was good. Sinking into the water, she decided that if she had to give an answer, she’d rather just drown. It’d save her a whole lot of embarrassment. But Lauren was there, soft and comforting but insistent. She sighed. “I... I just...” She groaned. “Why is everyone so interested in this, anyway?”

Water rippled and lapped against her in front of Clara and Electra, who had both approached her. “To make sure you’re having a good time,” Electra said smoothly, and Celia suppressed a shiver of pleasure at the reminder of... something going on there.

“And because you’re stepping out of your comfort zone with this, Celia,” Lauren tittered. “Do you really think I wouldn’t make sure you’re okay?”

“And it doesn’t hurt that you’re really super pretty and sexy,” Clara added, coming up from behind Electra and hanging off the tanned warrior. Pretty? Sexy, she could accept, in the same way that Electra was. But pretty? Clara seemed to think so, and it was evident in how her eyes traced Celia’s body.

She couldn’t help but feel flattered by that, and it gave her a bit of courage. “I felt him getting excited,” she admitted, looking down into the water. “I... haven’t been with many men before, so I...” she trailed off, but Clara and Electra were both nodding.

“If it's just nerves, there’s options,” Clara offered. “Liquid courage, both the literal kind and the figurative one-” The what? “- and drinks like that are just the start. Gluais.” The word drew more water from the pool, settling in a thin band around Electra’s neck. Clara’s smile turned warm and sultry. “Endless dreams and silver seas, Electra.”

Celia watched with bated breath as Electra let out all the air she was holding in one long sigh, eyes slipping shut. She was still upright, but it was clear that all of her tension had melted out, and that she was as languid as the water around her. Celia... wanted that. She glanced over at Clara, who was looking at Electra with undisguised adoration. “Is she...” Celia began.

“Yes,” Clara replied simply. The corners of her lips were pulled in a soft smile. “She’s opened her... well, her everything, to me.”

Celia took a hesitant step forward, almost unconsciously. Green meant asking was preferred, but not required. The ripples from her motion sent warm water sloshing a little up Electra’s body, but the tanned warrior might as well have been a statue. Unbidden, her hand rose towards Electra’s motionless form. The humid air was far too warm, sweltering, all of a sudden. Something in her told her to quail, to flee, but before she could turn, Lauren put a hand on her shoulder. Pink-rimmed blues above a warm smile captured her attention. “Are you nervous, Celia?”

Celia, latching onto the question, nodded. “Would you like me to make things easier for you?” she offered softly. Celia nodded again, and Lauren embraced her.

“That’s alright. No shame in that. Let yourself relax completely, Celia, if you please.”

The whispered words sent spirals of blue, green, and yellow shooting through her, and the warmth of the water soothed away the hints of red. Feeling nervous or worried suddenly seemed laughable, and she smiled dreamily.

Her mind, freed from the chaos of moments ago, revisited what she’d just seen. “You have her under a spell,” Celia concluded, turning back to the tanned warrior. She looked completely docile, a statue of a woman carved of beautiful tanned skin. Celia could easily see herself in the same state, with Lauren as her artist, her naked form a statue matching Electra’s...

“Not in the way Gella can do it,” Clara admitted. “It’s the more mundane kind of control.” She sighed happily, brushing along one of Electra’s arms. “It works more than well enough for us, though. Open your eyes, my Forest Gem, but stay lost in the dream.”

Electra’s eyes smoothly opened and for just a moment Celia was expecting an edge to edge color. Instead it was only Electra’s amber colored eyes, glazed and focusing on a spot through Celia.

Warmth flowed like molten syrup as it built throughout Celia’s body, pulling a soft sigh of delight from her lips. She knew enough to recognize what she was seeing. Electra was hypnotized. No magic, no spell, but her will was gone. It was alluring, and fantasies started to whisper in the back of her mind, vague desires to join the other warrior in bliss.

But even so relaxed by Lauren’s words, she was bound to Violet's plan. She couldn’t succumb, not without jeopardizing that, so she just stood and admired Clara’s control. “And the collar?” she asked, nodding at the shifting band of water around Electra’s throat.

Clara smirked and swirled her fingers in the floating liquid. “It might not be what Gella uses, but...” she winked, whispering “gluais agus reothadh.” The water around the warrior’s throat shimmered, a wave of frost sweeping along it. Drops of water rose from the pool to become chains, linking the band of ice to the mage’s hand. “I think it looks beautiful on her.”

The thin sparkling collar indeed looked gorgeous to Celia. It was so delicate that even if it were made of metal she couldn’t imagine Electra having any trouble breaking it. She imagined it around her own throat, leashing her to... who? She blinked. Her first thought had been Violet, yes, but the service to the elf was more... simple. Not the same kind. What had come to mind had been... flashes of silver hair, and glimpses of burning eyes. But what about Lauren? Or even Tabby? Each made her feel heat in a different way, compounding on the last. She sighed happily, and turned to the closest person on that chain, Lauren. “Kiss me?” she asked softly.

The priestess giggled as she slipped into the warm water beside Celia. Wonderfully gentle hands slipped around her waist, pulling her into a passionate kiss, and the blonde warrior sighed happily, melting into the embrace. “Thank you,” Celia whispered in Lauren’s ear. The priestess gasped at the sudden sound, then giggled. “This isn’t really helping us with our mission though.”

Lauren considered that for a moment, then glanced over at Clara and Electra. Letting herself be guided to look at them, Celia’s breath caught. The pair were locked in a deep kiss, and if she didn’t have a mission... But Lauren glided through the water to hold Celia from the side before softly smiling. “Maybe not,” she whispered back, and Celia unthinkingly pushed herself against Lauren at the sound. “But it means you’re less distracted by everything swirling around here.” She darted up to kiss Celia on the forehead.

Samuel had said much the same thing. Getting everything out in the open. Of course, it was probably much easier to do that as a powerful and carefree faerie than as a mortal girl, burdened by needs and duties like herself. Still, even as Celia savored the feeling of Lauren’s body next to her own, and watched the enticing sight of the lovers enjoying each other’s bodies, she looked inward.

She was being controlled, even now. It was a distant thought, but no less real. Violet was harnessing her, bringing her to task, and it felt... wonderful. She had someone to serve, someone who treated her well. And beyond this game, the temptations of Aversa and Gella loomed, and both had promised much the same. It was strange. She could feel Violet’s control trying to rein in her thoughts, to keep her focused on her role. Even so, her focus beyond the game kept slipping. Whispers and compulsions she knew were placed into her mind kept pulling her focus back, back to being the best knight she could for Violet.

“Umm, Celia... You alright?” Clara’s inquisitive face suddenly filled her vision, and with a start Celia realized she had been gazing into the same spot for several minutes.

The small jolt of realization was quickly smothered by pervasive calm and acceptance. “I’m being controlled.”

Clara looked taken aback, then slowly grinned. “Oh, interesting,” she purred, looking up at Lauren inquisitively. “Your spellwork?”

“You could say that,” Lauren agreed lightly, slipping her arms around Celia’s tummy in a tender gesture. Her body pulled at her to stand at attention even as it demanded she relax, and the dichotomy was strangely enjoyable. “Celia has recently found she very much enjoys the right kind of control.”

Electra turned to Clara, her lips quirking. “Miss Clara,” she said flatly, though there was a hint of amusement there. “I have an idea. May I wake up?”

The blue-haired mage nodded happily and Celia felt a brush of interest. Control applied gently enough emotions could show through like that? And even allowing her to ask questions? To her dazed mind, that sounded wonderful. More equal than a slave, but submitting more than enough to feel wonderful. Gella had said she would never have Ragira, but she’d put Lauren under without that. There were bound to be other things like Gella’s rapier she could use too. Before she could speculate further, her attention was taken by Electra taking a deep breath, her body seeming to right itself and snap to full awareness with the motion.

“Do you mind if I ask questions, Celia?” the tanned warrior grinned. “Wait. I just did. You... you know what I mean,” she snorted. “I have an idea or two.”

Celia nodded languidly, bemused at the contrast. No matter what Electra asked, she wasn’t sure she could get worked up right then.

“You’ve been with Lauren and the rest of the girls since you got here, when you aren’t training with us. Right?”

Another nod. “Yes, with the other treasures.” Vaguely, she registered that she already thought of herself as a treasure. It prompted only a vague sense of belonging, followed by a tiny twinge of pain that was quickly smothered by the prevailing relaxation Lauren had filled her mind with.

“And you like being controlled by them?” Electra smirked.

“Very much. It had been scary as an idea, but once it actually happened, it felt so very good.” She really should find Samuel and Deborah, come up with some way to thank them. She smiled idly at the thought. Was that something she would normally think? It didn’t matter.

“Since you let Weaver kiss you, I assume you like women and men both?”

Celia nodded, though she gave the question some consideration. Samuel had just taken her, gentle and kind though he was. Looking back on it, though, she hadn’t hated it. Quite the opposite. That may have been through his manipulations, but even without that, she could remember, if only in the vaguest of terms, childhood crushes on half the people her age, gender notwithstanding. She had felt attracted to Weaver, and that was that.

Electra nodded knowingly. “Then I think I see the shape of things. Is it possible you prefer to submit with other women, and with men, prefer to take a more dominant role?” She gestured to Clara, who nodded. “We take turns submitting to each other because we both enjoy both sides of things.”

Celia drifted in the warm water, mulling over the thought. Could she be dominant like that? What she did with Lauren, and what she tried to do with Tabby, didn’t count... did it? She didn’t know her own desires well enough to say, and it was hard to hold on to questions before the placid contentment. But it wouldn’t hurt to give it a chance...

“Maybe,” she shrugged and smiled. “I wouldn’t mind trying.”

She felt Lauren shift, warm breath passing her ear. “I have just the idea for that. May I put you under, Celia?”

Celia nodded hesitantly, trying to figure out what she was planning. Then, she relaxed. It didn’t matter what she was planning. Lauren would make sure she was being a good girl all the same.

“Sleep, Celia, if you please.”

She was back in the endless blue. Somewhere, impossibly distantly, she knew warm water and warmer hands were holding her, and that made her happy. Lauren, wonderful woman that she was, and her teammate in this game, was taking very good care of her. It made her heart soar, reaching upwards into the blue.

She could feel her mind spread out like this, apart from it and still a part of it. Violet’s control formed great banks of dense fog the color of the elf’s hair, obscuring some areas while swirls of similarly violet wind projected ideas into her mind. Etched in that swirling wind was Celia, the dutiful knight. That image stood at what Celia pictured as the center of herself, where a great flame burned bright. Had that been here last time? She couldn’t remember, but this was a very odd place...

“Yes,” she heard own voice say. Lauren’s voice, a playful pink ribbon, swirled in front of her, gathering little scraps of cloud, spinning them into something else. Another role to step into, like she had before, as Lauren’s model. She accepted it without hesitation.

Celia’s eyes fluttered open, and she could feel the new ideas and thoughts settle in. It was getting less and less disorienting, waking up with ideas and words not her own slipped into her mind. The swell of pleasure at the feeling was expected, and the warrior welcomed it. But something else bloomed along with it, something she was certain had been placed there. A desire. The desire to let other people experience the same pleasure of submission.

She looked around at Electra, Clara and Lauren. Each was a beautiful woman, each worthy of being cherished and protected. Lauren was the first to speak, breaking a hug Celia hadn’t even realized the priestess was giving her. “How do you feel?” She asked eagerly.

“Powerful.” The word slipped free without thought. And why wouldn’t she? She was strong. She was capable. She had tasted how sweet submission could be, so why not be eager to offer those she cared for the same treat? Sure, that probably wasn’t her own original thought, but it felt just as real.

“Strong, and focused,” Celia continued, looking at each woman in turn. She practically burned with desire, and it was clearly visible on her face, judging from how the others were reacting. “I wish I could use magic, just to lull all three of you into my control so easily.”

She watched the three girls look at each other, all smiles, and they clearly knew what to expect. They’d been there while Lauren was whispering thoughts into her mind, hadn’t they?

“And what would you do, if you could?” Clara asked playfully, though the coy tone was at odds with her inability to stop almost bouncing in the water.

“Make you all feel wonderful,” Celia said. “Play with you all some, before taking you back to the main area to show off.” Was that what she wanted? Or was it what she had been given to play? Did it even matter if she felt like she wanted it now? She smiled and let the question drop into her inner flame.

She watched Lauren look at the other two, who gave her a firm nod each. “Remember your tools, Celia.”

Knowledge awoke in Celia’s mind, and she smiled as it clicked into place. “Clara, Electra. Waking dream.” She watched, fascinated, as every bit of tension systematically melted away from the pair at those words. When the process was done, they stood loose and relaxed, glazed eyes looking past the far wall into infinity.

Celia stepped through the water to Clara’s side. While not as exuberant as Tabby, the mage was certainly energetic. Seeing her so passive and docile was thrilling. This wasn’t like the intimate, almost uncomfortably private feeling she had when seeing Gella work her magic on the girls, on that morning that felt like an eternity ago.

All at once she was struck by a powerful protective urge. Her friends had placed themselves in her hands, minds and all - not completely, clearly, but enough to make them obey. Didn’t that deserve a feeling of responsibility? “Clara,” she began, letting the heat within her pool. “Kiss me.”

The entranced mage stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Celia’s body, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. And tilted her head. No need to repeat that mistake. Then, her world was filled with Clara’s lips. It was a soft kiss, but the heat it inspired was anything but. Her hands carefully brushed along the curve of Clara’s back, down the swell of her bottom, and the mage gasped softly, her body reacting despite her mind. The sound was almost intoxicating. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss and drew back, feeling flushed.

“How did that feel, Celia?” Lauren giggled.

“Good!” she blurted, the words coming before her mind registered them. “Strange, new, but very good.” Her attention turned back the other two girls, still passively standing in place. “They... I know they’re not really mine. The thoughts, I mean. But it... does it always feel like this?” Idly, she reached out to run her hand along Electra’s arm.

“What does it feel like to you?” the priestess asked softly, hopping up on the ledge.

Celia fought to find the right words. It wasn’t as if she had the context to put it into words. But somehow, that lack of knowledge didn’t frustrate her, letting her ponder it while freely exploring each woman’s yielding body. “Powerful,” she decided. “But cautious. Like holding something fragile.” She could imagine the women’s minds in the palm of her hand, and for a moment, she felt a heady rush of amazement. “Is this what Gella feels all the time?” She wondered aloud.

The thought of Gella was... strange. Even with her mind altered to serve another, she felt like it was almost natural, inevitable, to be subservient to the mage. Her nearly effortless control of everything in the manor, her care for her treasures which stood at odds with the idea of a slaver, that unguarded side that appeared when she talked about magic... She resolved that as soon as this game was over, she would devote some time to figuring out just what she really felt for the woman.

“I think that’s part of it. Gella is always very careful with us,” Lauren sighed in adoration. After a moment of looking distant, she shook her head, smiling. “I would have given myself too. But I have a responsibility to fulfill,” she shrugged, showing off her own white whorls, shimmering on her creamy skin.

Celia considered that for a moment, then grinned. She slowly stalked toward Lauren, who only smiled at her guilelessly. “I don’t need to have you in my power to make you obey,” she purred, low and soft. White meant play was allowed, though they might be called away. It was preferred if she asked, but Lauren was the one who shaped her, who gave her the role to play. If she had told Celia to take her... well, who was she to refuse?

She embraced the priestess, who obligingly shifted to wrap her arms around Celia’s neck. “I think that I just need to hold you, remind you how good it can feel. Isn’t that right?”

Lauren mrred happily and nodded.

“You have been so wonderful,” Celia continued, trailing her fingers lightly up and down Lauren’s back. “Always letting me feel so safe and cared for under your control.” She took a small step back, then brought her hand up to rest feather-light on Lauren’s throat. The pulse beneath her fingers sped up, and the little gasp of delight she made only made the blonde warrior smile wider. “Do you feel like that with me?”

Lauren nodded firmly. “Yes.” She paused, then smirked playfully. “Miss Celia.”

The content warmth Celia always felt around Lauren flared, and Celia grinned at her friend. “You are mine, Lauren,” she proclaimed, and the priestess' happy squeak left Celia with a wonderful sense of pride.

Turning back to her mage - and the ease with which she thought of another person being hers stunned her for a moment - Celia beckoned her and Electra to join them. “Can you make me pretty collars for yourself and Lauren?” she asked, gesturing toward the shimmering ice still adorning the tanned warrior’s neck.

“Yes,” Clara breathed, sounding perfectly lost and dreamy.

“Go ahead and do that.” It felt odd to command so firmly, but also extremely satisfying. Clara whispered three words, almost inaudible, and Celia noted that her spellwork was as exacting and precise as it was when she was awake. Water rose up, encircled each woman’s neck, and then froze into matching collars of ice, fine chains dangling between each woman’s breasts.

Celia gathered the ends of all three chains. They were cool, like river water in the mountains, but hardly as cold as she expected ice to be. They had been made from warm water... “Clara, are these at risk of melting?”

The entranced mage shook her head. “No. My magic will keep them solid.”

Celia stood up and tugged gently on all three leads. Her girls - her girls! - followed her. Electra and Clara in a dreamy daze, Lauren considerably more alert and animated, but no less eager. Grinning back, feeling incredibly satisfied with herself, she strode out of the pool and back toward the main cavern. “Let’s go have some fun,” she said, power and control and desire mixing into a grin.