“Lyra? Could you look at me please?”

Lyra was lying on the rug in the room she’d taken at the inn. Her head felt fuzzy. No. No, she shouldn’t look at her… couldn’t look at [___]. Wait. What was her name? Why didn’t she know the other woman’s name?

“Lyra? Everyone is worried about you. Did you… oh Gods!”

There was a clink sound. At the edge of her vision, Lyra saw [___] picking up a bottle in a gauntleted hand. No, wait, not a bottle.

A potion flask. Empty.

“Did you… take something, Lyra? Look, I know things are a little awkward after, um, what happened last night, but if you’ve taken something dangerous we need to get you to an apothecary this instant!”

It was coming back to Lyra, slowly. A trickle of fuzzy memories from the night before. “U-um… it wasn’t… dangerous, I promise…”

“Then… what was it?”

The trickle was becoming a flood. A humiliating, embarrassing flood. Lyra whimpered, her cheeks flushing as she recalled what [___] had said to her in the inn’s tavern the night before.

***

“Um… sorry, Lyra, I know this is strange to ask, but you’ve been… looking at me a lot, lately, haven’t you?”

Lyra cringed at the uncomfortable look on [___]’s face. Lyra had thought she was being subtle, but the strong, powerful warrior woman, leader of their adventuring party, with her flowing red hair, dazzling smile, and ridiculous hourglass figure poured into impractically form-fitting plate armour had apparently noticed the meek little alchemist staring at her.

“I know we’ve been travelling together a while, and… connections, can form, but I guess I just want to say… I would like you not to look at me like that, ok? I don’t… feel that way about you. And I know you, and that you can just be a little awkward sometimes, and you don’t mean any harm by it, so I’m going to trust you to be an adult and take what I say seriously.”

Lyra had been shocked, even a little numb. Her crush had not only rejected her, but even said Lyra looking at [___] made her uncomfortable. She had mumbled an apology and then stumbled off to process what she had just heard… and quickly concluded that she needed to make amends properly. There was no reason she and [___] couldn’t still be friends, right? They could make a fresh start, Lyra would be normal, and this whole embarrassing little episode would be forgotten.

She had rehearsed it all in her head as she padded up the stairs to [___]’s room. Squeezed her eyes shut to steel herself, so focused that she didn’t notice the door sitting slightly ajar. Didn’t hear the grunting and moaning coming from within. Didn’t see the undergarments hanging from the handle as she raised her hand to knock… and inadvertently pushed the door open.

“A-aahhh, fuck, yes, yes, I- L-Lyra! Oh my god, I-!”

Lyra had frozen in the doorway. Splayed naked on her bed before her, her round, bouncy breasts totally exposed, her dark skin slick with sweat, her thick, hard dick pulsing and leaking, and with a lithe elf boy pinning her to the bed, his cunt drooling and leaking like a faucet, was [___]. Her beautiful golden eyes had stared back at Lyra with a mix of shock, shame… and fright.

“I… wh-why are you- gghhh!” [___]’s question was cut off as the lover she had taken for the night, who Lyra had never seen before in her life, continued to eagerly palm her tits, giving Lyra a smug look, seemingly unashamed of the fact that he now had an audience while he groped the realm’s most prolific hero.

“I… I wanted to…” The words died in Lyra’s throat. She wanted to what? Apologise properly? Ask her if they could start over? How could they? There was no way, now that Lyra had seen this. And more importantly… now that [___] believed Lyra had wanted to see this. She was never going to believe that this had been an accident. Lyra’s breath became short. Her cheeks flushed. And to her shame, the whole spectacle made something small and cute twitch between her legs.

She dashed away.

“Lyra! I-I… ough… nnhhh… Gods, Hiryn, p-please, don’t stop…” [___]’s moans followed Lyra all the way to her room. After that it was all a blur. Shame and guilt, her hand reaching downwards even as she piled ingredients into her brewing stand, trying to come up with some concoction she could use to fix this whole mess, finally downing the mixture in the small hours of the morning…

***

And waking up when [___] had come looking for her.

"Lyra? Just look up at me, I need to check your irises for any flux contamination, this potion doesn't look like it was terribly well-brewed..."

[___] knelt, and Lyra whimpered as a finger slid under her chin. Slowly, gently, [___] tilted Lyra's gaze up, and the girl squirmed, the contact sending shivers through her. She knew that this check would mean making eye contact with her love, sullying her gaze with her-

"Hmm. No, your irises look ok to me... although... pfft, you look a little frazzled. Something up?"

Darkness.

Nothing but a thick, fuzzy line of pure black hovering across [___]'s eyes. Everything else about her face was still visible, but her eyes... her beautiful... um... what colour had her eyes been again? Lyra blinked, her heart thumping. Her palms felt sweaty against the bedroom's rug.

"I um... I think the potion might have... changed some stuff. Uh. Mentally," Lyra admitted. Shame consumed her, but so did curiosity; what exactly had she adjusted? Why?

"Mentally? Like what? Are you seeing everything ok?" [___] asked, standing and stepping back to examine Lyra... and leaving Lyra staring dumbly up at her. In her full, shining plate armour... and at the other hazy black bars hovering above [___]'s body. The way her breastplate cupped her absurd tits was completely covered, while the area behind her rich purple loincloth, hanging between her armoured thighs and at first glance merely steeped in shadow, was in fact just as covered as her eyes and breasts.

Gods, that loincloth. [___] seemingly didn't think anyone had noticed, but on long marches Lyra knew she liked to remove her cup, let her cock hang free with only the thin layer of fabric between it and the world, presumably because she got so sweaty in her armour! The thick, pleasing length of it would often be silhouetted in the fabric, or briefly exposed by a mild breeze, which also carried the pleasant scent over to whoever might have, for whatever reason, chosen to march downwind of [___]. God just remembering it was making Lyra hard... she squirmed. She was still lying face-down on the floor, her erection pushed against the soft rug in her frumpy nightclothes as she recalled the lewd spectacle. Lyra suspected that was at least one thing [___] had caught her staring at, much to her shame...

Shame...

Shame...

Shame!

Oh Gods. Lyra felt the blood drain from her face.

"Um... I... I mixed a Censorian Potion."

[___] gasped. Her eyes had probably widened too, not that Lyra could tell. "What, those potions the clergy give to those weirdo perv nuns so they can't ogle each other anymore?"

Lyra flinched. She... she wasn't a weirdo perv! And she hadn't been ogling!... intentionally. "U-um, yes, they're often part of religious practice... when used, they target a person who the subject has... um... an affection for, and... c-covers that which they… might find tempting enough to commit sacrilege..."

"Huh. So what did you need one for? You're not a cleric or something, are you?"

"N-no, it was for you-! Um... that is to say..." Lyra cursed herself for blabbing so easily.

"I... ohhhhh. Oh. I think I understand." The note of distaste in [___]'s voice set Lyra on edge. She whimpered.

"I just... d-didn't want to keep making you uncomfortable..." Lyra averted her gaze, more out of habit than actual fear of eye contact.

[___] tutted. "Lyra, I merely asked you to stop staring at me. Were you so lacking in faith in your own strength of character that you immediately turned to alchemical means to achieve this?" Her gauntleted hands were on her hips now, her lip curled in disgust. Lyra panicked. Partly because of what [___] was saying... and partly because the way she was saying it was making Lyra twitch against the floor. No. No, Lyra wasn't a perv, she wasn't!

"N-no! I! It's just, um, that I walked in on you, and I saw you, doing, things, with that elf, and-"

"You can't even see a party member naked and remain composed? Gods forbid we ever run across a hot spring. I suppose it's my fault for not ensuring you were gagged and blindfolded in my room before I decided to take a lover for the night?"

"Gghhh... n-no, I, um-!" Lyra realised her mistake instantly. The thought of [___]'s strong, tender hands tying her down, gently giving her a blindfold, before screwing the brains out of someone other than her was... well, it had produced um. A reaction. An audible reaction.

The way [___]'s eyes narrowed was audible in her tone. "Lyra. What was that noise just now?"

"N-nothing! Um, I can't... I..." Lyra trailed off as [___] stepped back towards her... but instead of kneeling this time, she raised her foot. Lyra let out a pathetic little squeak as her head was forced down against the ground.

"You haven't stood up since I walked in here. You just lay there, staring up at me. Are you... hiding something from me, perhaps?~"

Lyra couldn't help it. Her hips bucked, against the floor, and she felt something hot and wet oozing from her tip. "I-I, I don't-"

"Lyra. Before you splutter out whatever pitiable denial you're about to inflict on me, just ask yourself one thing." [___]'s boot was removed, and Lyra couldn't stop herself from gazing adoringly up into the black void where her beloved's eyes had once been. "Don't you want me to be... comfortable, around you?"

Gods. Lyra bit her lip, her hands balling up in the rug... and finally, she nodded. "U-um... yes.. p-please... whatever you want, I'll do anything y-you want, s-sorry... I was trying to hide my, um... th-the erection, that I got... f-from being... near you..."

"Mmff... Gods above, you're so pathetic, Lyra..." [___] cooed. She was panting now, and the censorious nature of the potion wasn't enough to cover the flush in her cheeks, or the smirk on her lips. "Hmm... you said the potion covers whatever you find enticing about your... 'subject', right?~"

Lyra's heart skipped a beat. "I, um, I did, admit that, didn't I...​?"

"So. Again. In the interests of making me comfortable..." [___] knelt down. That purple loincloth fluttered mere inches from Lyra's nose... and everything behind it was utterly, impenetrably dark. "Why don't you tell me, in detail, exactly which parts of me you were so enamoured by?~"

Lyra's cheeks burned, and she buried her face in the floor. This... this was a disaster! Wasn't she supposed to be protecting [___] from her perversions?

But something wicked stirred inside Lyra. She... she wanted to make [___] comfortable. To be safe around her. Of course she did. But the way that she was looking down at Lyra now...

She squirmed. Ground her erection against the floor.

Even someone as oblivious as Lyra couldn't miss that [___] was turned on. She had seen [___] act this way before, around defeated enemies, her pretty features twisted in a sadistic smirk as she split the skull of one of the Demon Queen's minions with her broadsword. [___] was a shining, heroic light, but what fuelled her to such great heights was a sadistic love of victory, a burning desire to feel triumph as she broke those weaker than her between her strong hands. Lyra suspected it was the same pleasure she had experienced the night before, when she had taken that p-pretty elf and... gghhh...

But that aspect of her personality meant that [___] was still turned on. By Lyra. If it meant actually getting to enjoy her beloved's attention, just a little... surely it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to… play it up a little? Just for her…

“U-um… your… eyes… and breasts… um, I c-can’t see them…”

“My eyes? Is that why you were avoiding eye contact with me so muuuuch?~” Before, [___] had gently slid a finger under Lyra’s chin; now her hands were on the girl’s cheeks, not forceful, but… insistent. Lyra whimpered as she was forced to stare up into that black, hazy void again. “Something as simple as that makes you tempted to… sin?~”

Lyra tried to look down, but instead her eyes caught on the blacked-out outline of [___]’s breasts. There was no way to stop herself from gawking openly. “I… I just… you’re so beautiful, I-”

“Beautiful? Is that really the word you’d use to describe me, Lyra? Because it kind of seems like you’re just looking at me like a piece of meat… maybe fuckable would be a better word?”

“N-no! I’m… I…”

“And this Censorian Potion doesn’t seem to be doing much to discourage you from acting like a lech around me. If anything, being denied seems to make you even more perverted than ever~” Lyra’s face was mercifully released, which was just as well, because her cheeks were burning bright red, and she needed desperately to bury her head in the carpet.

“It’s because you’re in your proper place, Lyra. A creep like you understands your place instinctively, and it feels good to know that you’ll never get to fuck a woman like me. That you don’t even get to look at me.”

This was humiliating. It was the worst shame Lyra had felt in her entire life. [___] was exactly right. This was her place. Not even getting to look at her. And her beloved treating her like this was… was…

So fucking hot. Lyra didn’t even hesitate. She needed it to be worse, now.

"I... I also c-can't see behind your... l-loincloth..."

"Ohhh? Is that so?" In a flash, [___]’s fingers were tangled in Lyra’s messy brown hair, holding her up mere inches from the flimsy scrap of fabric. Her breath caught. "So, you can't see what's behind it... that's a shame! I guess the eyeful you got last night is the last time you'll ever get to see it, right?~"

Lyra whimpered. "I... um... the potion is retroactive too, I c-can't even... remember what it looked like... it's just... fuzzy..."

[___]'s laugh was as gorgeous as it was cruel. "Gods, Lyra... all this, because you didn't trust yourself to stop staring at me?"

Lyra nodded eagerly. "I-I'm sorry! You're... you're so pretty and perfect a-and I knew I wouldn't be able to s-stop thinking about you... although... I can still see the outline it's making! F-from you getting, um... h-hard..."

"Yeahhh?" [___] sounded breathless now. "You like seeing a pretty little outline of my dick? You like thinking about all those cuties other than you that get to touch it, groping it when they want to get me nice and tight for them?~"

Lyra hesitated, her head swimming, barely comprehending [___]’s words beyond the cruel tone... then shivered. Fuck it. She'd already come this far, and [___] seemed to seriously be enjoying this. What dignity did Lyra have left to lose at this point? "Yeah! I-I can still um, f-fantasise about choking on it if I can just... l-look at it from behind the cloth l-like the gross perv that I am... o-or getting fucked stupid l-like that slutty elf b-boy from last night, so y-you can blow off stress from battle… aha... s-sorry… I j-just can’t… s-stop thinking about you b-breaking me with your cock…" Lyra was panting now, staring between [___]'s legs, knowing if she reached out and tugged the garment aside all that would greet her would be inky darkness, a testament to her perverted fantasies, to how she didn’t deserve to look. She almost did, when she realised that [___] hadn't replied. Lyra looked up at her expecting that same cruel smirk... and was instead met with a look of utter, abject disgust. [___]'s arms were folded under the dark smudge of her tits, and her eyes, while hidden, were no doubt narrowed with hatred.

"Gods. I knew I was right about you. Let me guess. Every time you gave me those creepy little stares, that's what you were thinking about, right? The hero of legend, pinning you down, taking control, making you mine?"

Everything about her tone indicated that answering in the affirmative was a bad idea. But Lyra instead nodded shakily, hoping this was just more teasing.

Her hopes were quickly dashed. "Eugh. Typical..." Soft, metallic clanks as [___] walked around the back of Lyra. The alchemist turned hear head to see what [___] was doing, but-

“Don’t. It’s clear to me now. That potion wasn’t enough. You don’t get to look at me at all.”

Lyra froze. Gods. [___] sounded furious.

"You're pathetic. You know, when I talked to you last night, I might have thought you were a little awkward, but I at least respected you. I thought one little conversation would be enough to resolve things, because at the end of the day, we were friends. We understood each other. Even after this pitiful little display, I took it as little more than a sign of hopelessly misplaced affection for a person you admired. But I think it's obvious now..."

In a second, the weight of [___]'s boot was on Lyra's soft rear. "You never knew me at all, did you? You were so carried away by your little fantasies about me sweeping you up in my arms that you never even considered if that would be something I would want."

"U-um... w-wait, I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- ggghhh...!~" Lyra's pitiful excuses were cut off as [___] pressed down, forcefully, pushing Lyra's cock against the ground.

“That ‘slutty elf boy’ last night? He used a strap and he fucked me stupid. Bent me over as soon as you were out of the room, and made the whole inn listen to me screaming as he took me.”

“Wh- I- I-” Lyra’s head was swimming. Oh Gods. Had she really misread her beloved so badly?

"I'm the Godsdamned hero. What on earth makes you think I want more authority, more power, more fucking responsibility?" [___] pushed again, and Lyra moaned. Then she pushed gain. And again. She was getting up a rhythm now, and Lyra was helpless to do anything but allow her beloved to grind her dick against the soft ground, her whole body overtaken by shudders as filthy moans spilled from her mouth.

"Gods, I just want to... I want to feel weak and powerless and taken care of, I want to fail and for that to be ok, I want to be little more than some random nobody’s f___meat, I certainly do not want to be fulfilling the self-indulgent fantasies of a shitty little wretch like y__!"

Lyra’s gasps and moans were mixed with sobs. Pure hatred dripped from every syllable out of [___]’s mouth. And she could hear it fading out, her ears closing to the venomous tirade, because it was making Lyra harder.

“Awww, what’s the matter? Aren’t you enjoying me ‘f___k__g’ you? Doesn’t it feel good? Isn’t this just what you wanted, you sh___y little pervert?”

Lyra’s hips twitched as [___]’s boot pushed down, the tempo increasing, again and again, and Gods, she really was going to cum from this-!

“I-I’m sorryyyyy…” Lyra whimpered. Tears ran down her cheeks. All that time spent staring at [___], and she’d never understood her at all. Even as Lyra tried to recall those memories, she realised they had already been corrupted by the potion. She didn’t remember what her beloved looked like at all, merely a dark, nameless smear in her mind’s eye. All she knew about the hero in that moment was that she utterly, totally despised Lyra.

And it was still enough to give Lyra butterflies in her stomach, and make her balls draw up, and-

“Ugh… even before you took that stupid potion, you never really… nff… saw me at all, did you?”

Lyra moaned as she recognised a soft, rhythmic fap fap fap coming from behind her. [___] grunted. “I can’t believe your awful little display actually managed to make this… nff… s-stupid thing hard…”

Maybe… maybe, despite everything, [___] still found her appealing too? In a pathetic way, but still, it was something-

“Gghh… H-Hyrin… hhh~”

What finally crashed Lyra head-first into an eye-rolling, toe-curling, utterly humiliating orgasm was recognising the moaned name of [___]’s lover from the night before… and the feeling of something thick, heavy, sticky, and hot splattering all over her back. With a gasping little whimper, she spilled a far more pathetic load in her breeches, shuddering as she melted against the ground.

Fuck. Who had she been kidding? Her beloved was never going to be able to cum to someone as pathetic as her.

Lyra had barely recomposed herself enough to look up by the time [___] strode towards the door.

“The party is leaving in a few hours. If you can pick yourself up before then, you can tag along. The last thing I need is the awkwardness of explaining to everyone else what a cre_py sta_ker you are, and how you’ll probably be jerking off over me at every available moment.”

Despair filled Lyra’s heart, and she looked up, desperate to defend herself… and the words died on her lips as she was met with nothing but a dark, hazy smear where her beloved had once stood. Everything about her was a temptation to sin. Her entire body was a monument to Lyra’s wretchedness, her perversion.

All she managed to croak out was a whiny little moan. Her cock hardened again, as [___] slammed the door shut.

***

“Lyra? Could you look at me please?”

Lyra could, today. It had been three months since she had taken the Censorian Potion. Its effects seemed to wax and wane, and today, [___] was mostly visible. Only her breasts and eyes were covered by its effects, and Lyra tried not to stare too much at her hips, or hands, or cruel smirk. She knew what would happen if she got too… carried away. It was difficult too; her beloved had changed up her look considerably since the incident at the inn. She had concluded that Lyra couldn’t have been the only person getting the wrong idea about her, and had decided to remove any ambiguity about her desires as best she could. Her exposed midriff, left open by the absurdly tight and impractical bikini armour she now sported, was another area Lyra was struggling not to look at.

It didn’t matter to [___] of course; she was so strong that she could probably have fought her way from one end of the Sphere of Miasma to the other in nothing but a loincloth. Hell, at this rate, she might. She seemed to be enjoying the… attention it was getting her. The hero had a reputation as the strongest in the land, but the legends of her other endeavours were quickly acquiring almost as much attention…

“Um! Y-yes, um… d-did you need something?” Lyra asked, fidgeting with her hands, trying to banish the lurid tales she’d heard from her mind. She was nestled up against a tree near the edge of the party’s campsite, the gloom pooling around her bedroll just beyond the reach of the fire’s light. The rest of the party were staring at Lyra and [___], whispering behind their hands. Lyra didn’t know how much [___] had told them, but both other women had kept her firmly at arms’ length since the incident, and she didn’t blame them.

“Just the potions I asked for! You have to make up for being a disg_sting cr_ep somehow, right? And you make the best contraceptive mixes I’ve ever used! It’s like you were born to help a perfect hero like me get fucked stupid by literally anyone other than you!” [___]’s words were dripping with disdain, but there was an edge of mocking humour there too. Lyra squirmed a little, and felt her cheeks heating up. If [___] at least enjoyed bullying her… that was better than nothing, right?

Lyra fumbled in her bag, quickly producing the flask of blue liquid, glowing slightly in the dark with flux light, and handed it over. “U-um, here you go! Protection from pregnancy and uh, other complications, for…” Lyra swallowed. “Ah, a f-full seventy-two hours. I-I enhanced the recipe just like you requested…”

[___] giggled. “Perfect! That platoon we saved today seemed really grateful, so I’m going to head back over there and…” she swirled the contents of the flask between her perfect fingers, her perfect tongue running hungrily over her perfect lips. “Negotiate our reward.”

Lyra swallowed. The darkness deepened over [___]’s body, her underarms obscured and the bulge in her loincloth falling out of focus, as the alchemist’s thoughts were overrun by fantasies of all those sweaty, frustrated, backed-up soldiers taking her beloved hero’s body, palming her tits and groping her cock and, and…

She couldn’t even imagine it. Literally. Lyra barely remembered the hero’s body, hadn’t a clue what her name was, and the kindness with which she’d once spoken to her had long since faded. Lyra knew this wasn’t healthy, for either of them, that she had not only broken herself but corrupted the hero of the realm with her perversion. She should run, leave this quest behind, and hope that the damage could be repaired by someone less wretched than her. And yet… and yet…

[___]’s finger on her chin. Lyra whimpered as her gaze was turned up to the hazy darkness over the hero’s eyes.

“Want to tag along? You can ‘watch’ this time, if you really want to. I enjoy hearing your little frustrated squeals whenever another stranger bottoms out inside me~”

Lyra nodded, breathless. Whatever impression of [___] remained in Lyra’s mind, she loved utterly, a half-seen perfection she was utterly in the thrall of, and had no hope at all of escaping.

She had never been happier.