I woke up slowly, in darkness. I put a hand to my head, expecting it to ache, but it didn’t, not exactly. More like it was fuzzy and slow, but I actually felt pretty good.

I stood and turned to find a figure of a man facing me. He was shorter than me, and enormously fat, with a scraggly beard and a shock of red hair that came to a point like a cap, and wearing what appeared to be a shapeless, baggy tunic made out of dry red leaves.

He was also gorgeous. He had some kind of ineffable quality of, well, perfection. His broad face, squashy nose, stubby, sausage-like fingers, somehow combined to be irresistible. More than that, he felt… better than me. Higher, more powerful, wiser, more glamorous…

Oh.

Right.

Glamours. They poured off him in an endless stream, twining around my naked body, my naked mind, making me see him as the most fascinating, alluring, superior being I had ever met. And he was doing it effortlessly! These weren’t static spells he had cast on himself, or spells he was casting on me. They just happened, every moment that he was around.

I licked my dry lips and tried to speak, but my throat was just as dry. I had to say something, though! Some greeting that would express my overwhelming awe, my intense need to worship this new god, my newfound devotion!

“Hi,” I said.

He smiled, showing a large number of pointy teeth, which was of course exactly what his teeth should be. “Hello, Lemma. Remember me?”

“No,” I said, honestly.

His grin widened. “Good. On your knees.”

My legs folded without thought or will, and I gasped in pleasure.

“You love being an obedient little slut, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yessss…” I moaned. My eyes widened as he pulled up his tunic, revealing the largest cock I had ever seen. Given how short he was, it was practically a third leg, and it was high and hard, pointed straight at my face.

I gulped. How was I going to deal with that monster?

The previous day…

“Look,” said Iason as we walked along the harbor town’s streets. “Yr doesn’t have the best reputation among monster hunters. It’s not safe!”

“Pfft,” I said, waving the pheasant leg in my hand. “Nowhere on the big island was safe either, why should Yr be any different? The whole Tin Islands are just the worst.”

“Yeah, but most of the main island is inhabited mostly by humans. You don’t meet that many monsters until you get up into the northern wastes. But Yr? If what I’ve heard is true, Yr is crawling with… you know. Them.”

“No, I don’t know.”

Iason looked around to make sure no one was listening, and lowered his voice. “Them. The Beautiful People. The Fair Folk. The Mound Builders.”

“Oh!” I laughed and waved my free hand dismissively. I took a big bite of the pheasant leg and swallowed it down. “You mean the fairies. No big deal.”

“Shh!” he hissed. “Don’t say any of their real names!”

“Never took you for the superstitious type,” I told him. “There are tons of fairies in Lemuria. They have an embassy in the capital! I used to go to an elven restaurant for lunch sometimes when I was in school.”

He stared at me like I’d grown three heads and announced that I was Queen of All the Oceans.

At my new master’s unspoken command, I hesitantly took his enormous cock in my fingers. I stroked slowly up and down its length, then opened my mouth as wide as I could and took in the head. I suckled gently, running my tongue over his tip, trying to think while little bubbles of pleasure popped in my head.

How had I gotten here? Who was this man, and how long had I been his slave? Why couldn’t I remember anything between landing in Yr and waking up in this… wherever this was? In fact, where even was this place?

“Nah-ah,” he chided me, waggling his finger. “No thinking while you’re on your knees.”

My eyes widened as my thoughts just… stopped. Every time a thought tried to form, it was swept away by a tide of blankness—and every thought I didn’t think was an act of obedience, setting off another little bubble of pleasure. There was no more thinking for me, just sensation, emotion, ecstasy.

I felt myself stroking his shaft, licking it in long, slow, wet strokes of my tongue that left his cock glistening with saliva. I felt my eyes glaze over, as blank and empty as my mind. I felt my pussy leaking, hot, wet, as empty as my head. I felt his glamours slice through my defenseless brain, and with nothing there to stop them, filling it with layer upon layer of attraction, obedience, submission, worship, and love.

I felt him slide slowly into my mouth, filling it completely, fitting perfectly. If I’d been able to think I might wonder about how such a big cock could possibly fit in my mouth, let alone down my throat, but I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel it sliding over my lips and tongue, down my throat, hot and hard and powerful. I wanted him to cum, needed him to cum, was desperate to make him cum—and when he did I felt a wave of pleasure beyond anything I’d felt yet, the absolute bliss of knowing that I had brought my master pleasure.

Earlier that day…

“Look, I really don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” Iason said to me as we walked through the woods.

I sighed. It was a pretty night. The sky, what we could see of it through the trees, was full of stars, the air gentle and warm and smelling of pine, the moon casting everything in silver. It was not a night for taking silly fears seriously. “I told you,” I said. “We have a treaty with them, and they’re creatures of high magic. They follow rules and laws and contracts. They have to. No Lemurian has anything to fear from them!” I didn’t say any of their names—fey, fairies, elves, goblins, yokai, sidhe—because it wasn’t worth fighting Iason over names. But it was definitely worth fighting him over the fact that he was wrong and I was right!

“Look,” he said, his hand on his swordhilt, as it had been since we entered the woods. “All that may be true, but they’re also really good at rules and laws and contracts. If they think you’re being rude to them, or trespassing, or breaking any of a billion other rules, they’ll do things to you. You don’t want that!”

I rolled my eyes. “Like I said, I’ve met elves. Well, half-elves, anyway. Descendants of half-elves. Point is, they were ethnically fey, and they were perfectly nice, ordinary people. A little delicate, maybe, very formal, great hair, but they weren’t monsters.”

“I told you not to say their names!” Iason hissed. “Especially not out here!”

See what I mean? He freaked out every time I said any of the names they use for themselves! It was getting annoying. “Big bad Iason,” I teased. “The mighty warrior, scared of fairies.”

The treetops stirred suddenly in the wind, a wind we didn’t feel, as the temperature plummeted. Far away in the darkness under the trees, something giggled.

I stared blankly into space, mindless, while the cum which didn’t go down my throat dribbled slowly out of the corner of my mouth, still hanging open in the "O" master’s cock had pushed it into. He took a handful of my long hair and used it to wipe the spit and cum off his still-hard cock, then looked thoughtfully down at his hand.

“Your hair,” he said. “So much potential, but such a boring color. Let’s fix that.”

As the last of the cum dribbled out over my chin and chest, he used my hair to mop it up, then rubbed it in like shampoo, all while I knelt before him, mindless pleasure echoing through my glamour-addled brain. After a long stretch of blissful nothing, he smoothed down my hair, apparently satisfied.

Then he looked down. “Oops,” he said. “Have to make sure the rug matches the tapestries.” He pushed me off my knees onto my back.

Instantly, my thoughts returned—he’d commanded me not to think while I was on my knees, after all. But my thoughts barely had room with all the glamours filling my head. Even without my little mental block on resisting mind control, I couldn’t have fought them if I wanted to. They were in too deep, and anyway they made sure that I couldn’t want to fight them! How could I think about anything else when someone as beautiful and perfect as my master was about to claim my weak, ugly, pathetic, mortal body? It was impossible that he wanted me, beyond comprehension—but that made sense. Of course someone like me couldn’t possibly understand the mighty thought processes in a mind like his! I simply had to accept that he did want me, and make sure that I gave him everything he wanted.

His huge cock slid into my pussy, and I cried out in ecstasy, wrapping my arms and legs around him. He should have been way too big to fit, but I could think just barely enough to understand now. My body was his just like my mind. He could mold it to serve him however he wanted. If he wanted he could have torn me apart with his massive member, and I would happily let him, because I wanted him to have whatever he wanted. Fortunately, my master was as kind and generous as he was powerful and alluring; instead he made sure that my pussy fit his cock perfectly.

I came as he began to thrust, and if having him cum in my mouth had felt good, it was nothing compared to this. Something in my belly uncoiled and exploded through me, warm wet spasms of bliss shaking my body around him.

He kept going, and I came again, harder. And again, harder.

Again.

Again.

My breath tore out of me in ragged sobs as I came over and over again, back arching, hair flying as I tossed my head, completely out of control, clutching at him and gasping as pleasure stormed through me in wave after wave.

Then he came inside me, and I screamed, on and on, as lights exploded behind my eyes. My body was one giant nerve, on fire with ecstasy, a wave that rose and crested and then, impossibly, kept rising, carrying me bodily into the heavens.

I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air, my whole body limp and tingling. My master smiled down at me. “There,” he said. “That’s better.”

Five hours earlier...

"Who's there!?" I demanded. When there was no response, I snapped my fingers. When I reopened my hand, a ball of swirling red fire sat in my palm. "I said, who's there?"

The trees rustled again. The fire in my palm flared up, turned bright blue-green, and then dissolved.

"Um," said Iason. "Did you do that?"

I shook my head.

"I didn't think you did." He drew his sword. The edges of the black iron blade glinted silver in the moonlight, and I grinned. No magical creature was going to mess with that.

Then the moonlight vanished.

I looked down the length of my body, glistening with sweat, at the growing puddle of white cum spreading out of my pussy, pearls of the stuff nestled in the small patch of curly red hair above it.

Wait, red?

Master laughed at the expression of confusion which must have crossed my face. I picked up a strand of my hair and looked at it—definitely red! He shook his cock, and droplets of cum spattered across my face and chest—and then the sticky feeling vanished from them as quickly as it happened. "Red hair and freckles," he said. "A nice dusting of them across your cheeks and tits. You look like a pretty local lass, now."

I beamed up at him. He thought I was pretty! And of course I did! After all, he was perfect, so of course if he changed how I looked, he'd make me look amazing! How had I never seen before that red was obviously the perfect color for my hair, and freckles! I'd never liked freckles. What a fool I'd been! Now I understood that how important they were to looking pretty for my master!

He considered me a moment, then nodded. "Forget you ever looked different," he said.

What had I been thinking about? Oh, right, how wonderful and kind master was to say I looked pretty. This was just how I'd always looked, insignificant little me. He was the real beauty here! What else could possibly compare?

"Follow," he said, tugging down his tunic. He turned and started walking away.

Legs wobbling as I staggered to my feet, I quietly followed.

Still five hours earlier...

I spun around, looking for where this suddenly darkness was coming from. It had to be a spell, but who was casting it?

"Stay close," I warned Iason.

"Yeah," he replied. "Don't want to stab you by mistake."

With his voice as a guide, I was able to move so that we were back to back. I concentrated, trying to feel out the edges of the spell we were in. It wasn't that big, maybe fifty feet, but fifty feet of pure darkness in a forest is pretty bad.

"We're being watched," Iason said quietly.

"I know," I replied. I felt at the spell, but it was a tight and expert weave. Darkness is one of the few things I can't burn, so that didn't leave me a lot of options. If there was a stray thread anywhere in the spell, though...

"Okay," I said. "I think I've got something a few feet to our left. Ready? Step."

I sighed. "No, your OTHER left."

"So, your left," Iason replied drily.

"That's what I said!"

We made our way slowly toward the stray thread I'd felt. I half-tripped over a branch or a root or something once, but otherwise we made it without any problems.

"Okay," I said. "This is the spot." I concentrated again. Yes, there it was. A little flaw in the spell, a place where it wasn't quite as perfectly woven as the others, where I could get a grip and— There! The spell tore, a glimpse of moonlight lancing down, and then it ripped completely open, allowing us to see where we were—

"Oh, shit," said Iason.

—right in the middle of a neat ring of mushrooms.

Faerie is a strange place. The space my master led me through was like a forest, but not a real forest, more like the idea of a forest. The trees were tall and twisted and black, the moon low and fat and bright, and there were way too many stars in the cloudless sky. But there was a vagueness to it all, an indistinct sense of ephemerality, like none of it was really solid.

We walked in silence for a while, and I was starting to get a little bored—well, as bored as it's possible to get while following your impossibly, inhumanly gorgeous owner, your every step an act of obedience rewarded by a little bubble of pleasure bursting in your pussy and your brain, anyway, which turns out to be more than you might think, though still not a lot—when a voice called out from one of the trees.

"Ho there!" it called, and a man dropped down into our path. He was about my height, slender, and pretty, with shining dark eyes and dark hair tumbling to his shoulders, his lean, muscled frame wrapped in the finest silks. "If it isn't my old friend, Faerdarrig."

The way he said "friend" made it really obvious that he and my master were definitely not at all friends, but I was more interested to find out master's real name. Well, not his real name, obviously, that was Master, but now I knew the name people who weren't lucky enough to be his beglamoured little fuckpuppets called him.

"Hello, Glaencanagh," my master said. "Just the sprite I wanted to see."

"Oh?" said Glaencan—look, I'll just call him Glen, okay? Much easier. Anyway, "Oh?" said Glen. "And why might that be?"

"I have business with you. I wish to make a bargain."

He laughed and stepped to the side so he could get a clearer view of me. "And you've brought me a lovely gift to sweeten the pot, hmm? Or so I assume. Human lasses aren't really your thing, are they?"

"Oh," my master replied. "I like them well enough. Just not for fucking."

Glen walked closer to me, and my master turned to keep him in sight. "She's pretty enough," he said, "but not really my type. I prefer my girls with a bit more meat on their bones."

Master smiled, baring all his very pointy teeth. "So do I."

"I'll take her, though, if the price is right," Glen said.

"Oh no, she's not for sale."

Glen turned back to my master in surprise. "What? I thought you wanted to bargain?"

"Yes, but for a trifle. Just some ribbon. I know you collect them from your... conquests. I'll let you fuck her until one of you cums, but that's it."

Glen shook his head. "I see how bound she is, body and brain. She'd cum the instant you said so, and I'd be out some fine ribbon." He studied me a moment. "Give me until I cum, and you have a deal."

Master nodded. "Give me a moment with her, then, and she's all yours!" Glen wandered away, and Master bent down to whisper in my ear. "Make him cum as quickly as you can, slut. We have places to be."

I nodded, eyes on Glen, who was watching us. "Yes, Master."

Master wandered away, and Glen approached, grinning. He wasted no time dropping his clothes, and then reached for me. Long, slender fingers traced over my shoulders and down my arms. It felt good, but not as good as it felt to reach for his cock and begin to stroke it, the joy of obedience filling me as I slid my fingers up and down his shaft.

"Mmm, you know what you're doing," Glen commented, drawing me closer to him. "Maybe there's something to be said for a lass who's had some training, even if she is skin and bones."

I fought down the urge to squeeze until his eyes popped out of his head. I had to make him cum! But lucky for him, I was enjoying obeying Master too much to hurt him. Maybe after he came.

He pulled me the rest of the way to him, his body cool against my skin as he kissed me, his lips and tongue teasing at mine in ways I don't think a human could do. A thrill ran down my spine—he was good. By the time he broke the kiss I was flushed, my eyes half-wild, half-glazed.

Glen lowered me onto my back and crouched over me, his delicate hands playing over my skin like a bard on his instrument, teasing and stroking until my body thrummed like a harp string. But while I was squirming and gasping under his touch, I caught a glimpse of Master, standing by with his arms crossed, tapping a foot impatiently.

I had to put my pleasure aside and make Glen cum! I took his hands in mine, then smiled up at him, spreading my legs invitingly. He grinned in response, then slowly fed his cock into me.

It wasn't as big as Master's, more like a human-sized cock, but that just meant my body didn't need any adjusting to make him a perfect fit. I moaned as he thrust into me—as thoroughly as Master had worked me earlier, Glen's teasing had gotten me completely ready again. But I had work to do. I grabbed Glen's shoulders and rolled us over so that I was on top.

He grinned. "Ah, is this how you like it? I can do that." Then he grabbed my hips and started fucking up into me.

I rolled my head back and moaned as I bounced on his cock. The new angle meant he was hitting me just right on every thrust. I'd expected being on top to give me more control, but he was just as skilled with this position, smoothly and powerfully fucking me while his hands trailed up my stomach to my tits, roughly textured yet gentle as they glided over my nipples—

"Ahhhh!" I screamed as I came, Glen laughing beneath me while I writhed and gasped and cried out on top of him.

I started to collapse, exhausted, but caught myself. I still had to make him cum! I humped him, just once, and nearly screamed as pleasure so overwhelming it almost hurt exploded through my sensitive pussy.

Glen smiled. "I appreciate the eagerness, lass, but maybe we should let you rest a bit?"

I gritted my teeth and started fucking him again, slowly at first. His eyes widened, then he grinned. "Well, all right, if that's what you want."

I gripped his shoulders tightly, pinning him down while I feverishly rode his hips, thought and technique crumbling in the face of unbearable pleasure. I lost count of how many times I came, but I didn't stop fucking him, couldn't stop—and then, after what felt like an eternity, he groaned and shook, spurting up into me.

I came too, one last time, and then fell sideways off of him. I curled into a ball on the ground, shaking with exhaustion and the aftereffects of pleasure, while his cum dripped slowly from my pussy.

You should know when this was by now...

"Quickly!" Iason shouted. "We have to—"

And then there was a sensation like falling, plunging into darkness, drowning—and we were Somewhere Else.

It looked at first glance like the same forest as before. But the moon was just a little too big, and the stars a little too bright and numerous. We stood in a circle of moonlight in the middle of a clearing, but the darkness just outside was full of eyes, watching us.

And there were glamours everywhere, curling through the air, trying to wrap around us, but between Iason's sword and armor, and the anti-glamour spells in my clothes, they couldn't get a grip. I felt myself reach for the clasp of my cloak and fought down the urge to strip naked. I'm not resisting being controlled, I'm just wearing clothes! I'm not doing anything! The urge passed, and I sighed in relief.

A single figure stepped forward. He couldn't have been anything but a goblin—short and fat, with a nasty face and a wide grin full of sharp teeth, dressed in autumn leaves. "Trespassers," he hissed, and an answering hiss came from the darkness.

Iason shifted his grip on his sword, but I raised a hand. "Let me do the talking," I said.

"Lemma!" he almost snapped. "Listen, you have to be careful talking to... Them. They—"

"I know," I said. "I told you, we have a treaty. I know what I'm doing."

He sighed. "Fine."

I bowed to the goblin in front of me. "We apologize," I said. Politeness was really important with fairies, I knew. "We lost our way in the darkness and stumbled into your realm. We didn't mean to."

"No?" he said. "We all heard you speak our names. Don't lie, you were looking for us!"

"No, no," I said, raising my hands. "We were looking for something else, a book. We were just talking about your people because we didn't want to run into you."

I realized as soon as the words were out of my mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. The hissing in the darkness increased in volume, joined by angry murmurs I couldn't quite make out.

"See how the human insults us!" the goblin called to the crowd. "And what's wrong with our people and our realm that you don't want to meet us?"

"Nothing!" I said hastily. "We just know that you, uh, don't like trespassers."

"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Should have thought of that before you trespassed!"

Arrrrgggghhh! "We didn't trespass! We got lost!" In a darkness I'm pretty sure you made on purpose to draw us here.

"You deny that you are standing in our realm right now? Typical human arrogance, claiming our land for themselves! You're worse than trespassers, you're invaders!"

The angry murmurs were rising, and I was starting to understand what a clamor was. I licked my lips—they felt suddenly very dry. "We're not invaders! We're just travelers who got lost!"

The goblin gave a bitter laugh. "You bring naked iron into our realm and claim to be peaceful?"

Naked—ohhhh. Of course, magical creatures couldn't stand iron. Just by having his sword here, Iason could be argued to be threatening them. But I could feel the size of the crowd around us, and even with his sword and my magic, I wasn't sure we'd be able to fight our way out, at least not without risking some serious injury. "Sheathe it," I hissed to Iason.

He stared at me in shock. "Lemma—" he began softly, but I cut him off.

"I'm the one who's used to talking to their kind, you only know how to fight them. I'm the expert, and I'm in charge right now. So put it away!"

Iason rolled his eyes, but he sheathed his sword. "You're the boss," he said.

"There," I said. "Now do you believe we're peaceful?"

The goblin considered. "Do you acknowledge that this realm and everything in it belongs to us?"

"Yes!" I snapped. Then I hastily added, "Except for me and Iason and our possessions, of course."

The triumphant grin that had started to cross the goblin's face when I agreed turned instantly into a scowl. "Had you not added that last," he said, "I would have claimed you both as my property, roasted you, and had a feast. But it seems you have some experience dealing with us."

"That's what I've been saying all night! I'm from Lemuria, on official Library business. You're not supposed to harm me or interfere in my work!"

The goblin's scowl deepened, and he pointed at Iason. "What about him? He doesn't look Lemurian to me."

"I'm—" started Iason, but I interrupted.

"He's my vassal. So hurting him is damaging my property and interfering with my mission, it'd be a treaty violation."

Iason looked at me in surprise, then shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

The goblin growled. Literally, actually growled! "Deny me my dinner twice over, do you?"

I shrugged. "Sorry. But we have to be on our way. Please let us go now."

He clenched his fist. "It seems we have no choice."

Master dragged me to my feet. "Right," he said to Glen. "Now your part of the bargain."

Glen yawned, then stretched. He reached—well, the best I can describe it is that he reached somewhere, in a direction I'd never seen before—and pulled out a handful of ribbons of various colors. "Take your pick," he said. "Maidens are always leaving them lying around." He grinned. "Well, not that they're maidens anymore after I'm through with them, if they even were before. But you know what I mean."

Master picked out the green ribbons and dressed me in them quickly. Well, dressed is a strong word for it. A couple of ribbons wound through my hair. Others wrapped around my thighs or arms, or crisscrossed under my breasts, hiding nothing, but drawing the eye along my body. It made me look like the present Master had said I was, on display yet waiting to be unwrapped.

Master looked me over, then nodded. "This'll do. Come, slave." He waved lazily at Glen, and then took the end of the ribbon tied loosely around my neck, leading me on it like it was a leash.

We traveled deep into the darkest part of the woods. Trees closed in around us, their black branches blotting out the sky until it felt more like we were inside some ancient lord's wooden hall than a forest. I felt presences all around me, and here and there caught glimpses of them in the shadows, goblins, sprites, and things I couldn't identify. Then I saw ahead of us, looming out of the darkness, a twisted, huge old oak tree, wider than my outstretched arms. About ten feet up the trunk split into two huge branching crowns, and a large owl squatted in the middle of the split, its enormous eyes yellow and glowing.

I blinked. It wasn't a tree. It was an enormous, muscular man, seated on a knotty black wooden throne, a pair of antlers sprouting from his head, his baleful yellow eyes staring down at me unblinking.

Master stopped and bowed low. Not sure what to do, I copied him.

"My lord Herne," Master said. "Greatest of hunters, mightiest of warriors, king eternal of the Sidhe, I bring you a gift."

Oh. Oh fuck. I'd heard of Herne! The king of the fairies, one of the deadliest and most remorseless beings you could meet, a hunter who thought a demon lord made a good quarry, but in a pinch an ancient dragon would do if his hounds couldn't scare up anything else. They said that once he set his sights on you, no force in the world could stop him, he would just chase and chase and chase until he and his dogs caught up with you, and then—well, then you would be dead.

And Master wanted to give me to him? As what? I couldn't say no if Master ordered me to be Herne's next quarry, but from the stories I'd heard, it sounded like if I used every bit of my skill and magic I might be a match for one of his dogs—and he had hundreds, not to mention his own power!

"Faerdarrig," Herne said, his voice slow and low and old and powerful. "You are not one for giving gifts unless you want something in return."

"Simply your favor, my Lord," Master said, bowing again, but I could see him bare his teeth. He wasn't happy about being called out!

"Hmm," rumbled Herne. "And what have you brought me? A human child?"

"No child, I assure you, my Lord," Master said. "A witch, young and healthy and full of power, at least for a human."

Herne's eyes swept over me, and I trembled. I couldn't help myself! There was a storm of glamour pouring off him that made Master's look like a faint whiff, but Herne's glamours weren't about seeming sexy. His muscular, naked torso didn't really need any assistance for that. No, his glamours were about seeming powerful, dangerous, dominant, as if being ten feet tall (sitting, and without counting the antlers!) and treated with terrified respect by flesh-eating goblins wasn't enough.

"I see no toothmarks," said Herne. "Curious. Normally, any human in your power would be missing at least a leg by the time you got her to me. Why such restraint?"

"I simply wished your gift to be worthy of you, my Lord," said Master.

Herne chuckled. "Ah. You wished her to be able to run? Still, I doubt she'd provide much sport."

Master smiled broadly, his sharp teeth glinting in the silvery light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Perhaps not sport of that kind, but surely my Lord can think of another? Humans have many uses, as I'm sure you have heard, from the Queen if not—"

Herne made a low, rumbling noise. It wasn't a growl, or any other noise I'd ever heard, but it was clearly a warning.

Master pressed on anyway. "They say she has a new plaything. Surely my Lord deserves a toy of his own?"

"Watch yourself, Faerdarrig." But Herne seemed to be thinking it over. "Very well," he said at last. "I'll try it. Human, step forward."

I glanced at Master, and he nodded. I walked slowly forward, every instinct screaming at me to flee for my life. I stood, alone and naked, before the throne of the King of Faerie. But as I weathered the waves of pure menace coming off him, his glamours shifted, becoming more like the ones Master or Glen had given off. The storm shifted from terror to desire, a blasting wave that tore every shred of Master's glamours out of my mind and replaced them with Herne's.

How had I ever thought that fat, horror-faced thing was sexy? How could I ever have found anything attractive, now that the eyes of Herne were on me? What else could compare? His height, his commanding presence, his power, and those eyes, eyes that pierced right through me, lighting fires as they went.

He was suddenly not just hot, but smoking hot, is what I'm trying to say.

Then Master spoke. "Slave, I release you from your service."

And I remembered.

Still exactly when you think it is...

"Great," I said. "So..?"

The goblin shrugged. "So?"

"Are you going to let us go?"

"I did," he answered. "You're free to go."

I looked around. "Um... how? How do we get back to our world?"

"I agreed to let you go," he replied. "I didn't agree to help you."

I scowled. "You're interfering in my mission. This is against the treaty!"

"No, I'm not, and no it isn't. You wandered in here, you can wander back out. Not helping isn't the same thing as hindering."

I stamped my foot, and brushed off Iason's warning hand on my shoulder. "You know perfectly well that you tricked us here! We never would have stepped in that mushroom circle if you hadn't cast that darkness spell!"

The goblin put a hand to his heart and tried to look offended, but the gleeful glint in his eyes ruined the effect. "Me? Why would I ever do such a thing?"

"Arrgghh!" I shouted in frustration as he smirked at us. My hands itched to form a fireball. Just one in his face, blast that smirk right off it.

But no. Treaty. If I violated it, there'd be nothing to stop his goblin buddies from ripping us to shreds and having a cookout. I needed to stay calm.

I hate staying calm.

"What might we offer to persuade you to guide us back to our world?" I asked.

"Lemma, no," whispered Iason, but I shook my head. A bargain was our only way out of this.

"Hmm," he said. "Well, much as I'd enjoy taking an arm or a leg for a snack, I suppose the treaty puts that out of the question." He looked me up and down. "Hmm, but there is... work I could have you do," he said.

"You want me to perform some kind of a task?" I said. "But if it delays me from my mission..." Agree to nothing, I thought. Be careful how you word things. Make sure there are no loopholes for him to exploit.

He shook his head. "I ask for no more than the span of a single day and night. But for that time, you are mine, and will obey me."

How original, I thought. "So if I were to agree, I would be your slave until you release me, or for 24 hours, whichever happens first?"

He nodded.

"And that's 24 hours as experienced by a normal human in our world, starting at the moment I agree—if I agree—and continuing uninterrupted until it's over?" He scowled, and I knew I'd cut off a loophole he wanted. I knew about how the fairies liked to play tricks with time—spend a day in Faerie and you might find a hundred years have passed back home. I wasn't going to fall for that!

"Do you agree?" he asked.

"Hang on," I said. "I've got terms. No ordering me to harm myself, Iason, or anyone else. Harm is defined by me, and you're not allowed to change how I define it. Nothing I might agree to while under your control is binding, and you take full responsibility for any consequences of anything you make me do. You can't permanently change anything about me, and any changes you make revert to normal when the binding ends." I paused to see if there was anything I'd forgotten to cover. "When it's over, you guide Iason and me out in the fastest, most straightforward way possible without harming us, using the same definition of harm as before. You will not keep any of our property, and make sure we leave here with every possession we brought in with us, undamaged and without curses or enchantments. And then, once we are back in Yr, neither you nor anyone in your service bothers us, ever again."

His scowl deepened. Inwardly, I cheered myself on. Outmaneuvering a fairy in making a contract! You rule, Lemma! "I agree to these terms," he said reluctantly.

"Okay," I said. "Then so do I."

He clapped his hands. "Strip and surrender to my glamours," he ordered, and I immediately complied.

Iason's hand went again to his sword, but the goblin raised his hand. "Stop," he ordered Iason, and Iason did. "I control your liege, vassal. That means you are mine as well."

Fuck, I thought. Should have thought of that. But the other terms should keep us—

"Sleep and forget that you have made this bargain," he ordered, and the world went dark.

And now I was free again. I could demand that Faerdarrig—Master no longer!—fulfill his end of the deal, return my clothes, and lead me out of Faerie.

Herne gazed down at me. "Kneel, human, and bind yourself to my service. Agree to be mine, body and soul, to use as pleases me."

I bit my lip. Just one problem: my brain was full of Herne's glamours. He was objectively the greatest, most powerful, most beautiful, most superior being there could ever be. How could I turn my back on that? How could I leave when he was offering me the chance to take my rightful place—everyone's rightful place—as his slave?

I knelt. "I—"

But that was as far as I got. From the back of the court, someone shouted, "Stop!"

I felt Herne's annoyance like an icicle in the gut, but that was nothing compared to the blast of red-hot rage I felt coming off of Faerdarrig.

I turned to see Glen walking up. "Forgive me, my Lord," he said, bowing. "But I thought you should know something about this girl before you take her as your slave."

Faerdarrig hissed. "My Lord, ignore this fairy. He's simply jealous. You know how he thinks all the maidens in Yr belong to him!"

"Hush, Faerdarrig," said Herne. "Glaencanagh, you may have six words in which to convince me your interruption is justified, else I will set my dogs on you for the insult."

Glen smiled. "That girl is Lemurian." He paused as if counting. "My Lord."

"How can she be?" demanded Faerdarrig. "Look at her hair, her face, surely she is Yrian."

"Such things can be altered," rumbled Herne doubtfully.

"Aye, they can," said Glen. "But, my Lord, I've fucked a different human girl every night since they were invented." I found myself wondering if he meant since human girls were invented, or since night was invented. "I know how an Yrian girl fucks, and I know how a Lemurian fucks, and I tell you, this girl is Lemurian."

"Faerdarrig," rumbled Herne. "Tell me, truly and plainly: is this girl Lemurian?"

Faerdarrig sighed. "Yes, my Lord."

"I see. So you thought to trick me into violating the treaty? Tell me, goblin, did you think to topple me from my seat? Or merely that a war with the humans would mean more meat for you?"

Faerdarrig hissed while the court laughed. I saw him slowly pulling back, fading into the darkness under the trees.

My mind was clearing, I realized. Herne was pulling back on his glamours, and my thoughts were more my own with every second. "Don't let him go!" I said. "He owes me!" I glanced up at Herne's stern visage. "Um, my lord."

Under Herne's glare, I explained the terms of the bargain. At a word from Herne, Faerdarrig sheepishly emerged back into the light and returned my clothes to me. Then he waved his hand at my face, presumably erasing the freckles. "Hang on," I said. "I kinda like the hair. Leave it red."

He gave me a funny look, then shrugged. What? Nobody back home has red hair, at least not naturally. And with the amount of fire magic I throw around, it just feels right, right?

Anyway.

"Go with my thanks," said Herne to me once I was dressed. "Unwitting as it may have been, you have revealed a treacherous snake in my court."

"Um, you're welcome?" I said. "But I can't go yet. The deal was that Iason and I both get out, unharmed and with all our stuff. Where's Iason?"

Faerdarrig looked down and shuffled his feet. "Ah," he said. "That might be... difficult."

"Why?" rumbled Herne. "Fulfill your bargain or pay the consequences!"

Faerdarrig laughed uneasily. "Remember how I said Queen Maev had a new plaything..?"

Oh. Oh, fuck!

Herne turned his gaze back to me. "I fear my blushing bride does not surrender her toys easily, or at all. But I promise you that my man shall pay full recompense for the loss of your vassal."

"What? I'm not giving up on Iason that easily!"

"I cannot command the Queen, nor is it reasonable to expect her to be bound by the word of a lowly goblin," said Herne. "He is lost."

Fuck fuck fu—wait. "You said recompense, right?" I asked. "How about a vassal for a vassal? One of your men to serve me while I rescue Iason?"

Herne laughed. "Oh, she won't like that at all! Clever little human. Who will you take?"

I grinned at Faerdarrig. "Well, Red, looks like you'll be working for me for a while, huh?"

He blanched in terror. I wasn't sure whether that was because of what he thought the Queen might do to him, or I might do to him, but it didn't matter. "C'mon," I told him. "Take me to your Queen."

It looked like my adventures in Faerie weren't quite over yet!