EVERGREEN FOREST, CHAPTER 08
“The pit of the lion is a deep one, no?” The spritelion laughed. “But soon I will lead you down oh-so-slow.”
“I swear,” Yil muttered, “I wouldn’t mind this all that much if she didn’t have to rhyme.”
Anna looked down at her with wide, panicked eyes. “How can you joke at a time like this?”
“Look, I don’t like rhyme at any time.” The ranger blinked. “Damn it!”
But Anna was right: The situation they were in was not a pretty one. Yilra was hanging from the end of her crutch. The talon at the end of said talon was locked around Anna’s ankle—rather painfully, no doubt. And Anna was hanging onto the only distinct feature of this deep, cone-shaped pit: a stunted, gnarled pine tree that wasn’t even as tall as the petite woman clutching it.
And at the base of the pit lay the spritelion.
The worst part was that Anna was completely naked. It was making Yilra very... distracted.
As she considered their plight, Yilra caught Anna looking past her. The red-haired ranger fixed the blonde girl with a stern glare. “Don’t make eye contact!” she snarled.
After a moment, Anna looked back at her. She no longer seemed as frightened. Indeed, there was an oddly dreamy look in her eyes. “Sorry. I’m... okay now.”
Yilra raised an eyebrow.
Anna had spent months as the sex slave of three Evergreen nymphs who’d had nothing better to do with their time than constantly torment the poor girl. Even now that the nymphs were gone, there was no doubt in Yilra’s mind that the conditioning lingered. If this spritelion was truly a sexual creature, and most fey were... “I’m serious, Anna. Don’t you even look at it.” If you get mind controlled, there’s no way I can save you without falling to my...
She shuddered. She didn’t even want to think about it. Nor did she especially want to murder an innocent girl, of course. But there were worse fates than death.
There was a long silence.
“Yil,” Anna whispered, “I’m feeling... funny.”
“’Mind controlled’ funny?”
“Um...” One of Anna’s hands released the tree trunk, creeping down between her legs. “...maybe? Uh-oh.”
Yilra clenched her end of the crutch. The talon tightened its grip on Anna’s ankle, actually drawing blood. Anna let out a squeak of pain, her hand flying back to the trunk. “I’m good! I’m good!”
“Oh, my dears, that’s such a shame.” The spritelion didn’t sound too discouraged. “But ere the sun’s rise, you’ll be tame.”
Yilra groaned. It’s gonna be a long, long night. Snatch, you’d better hurry with that rope.
The good news was, Snatch had found the rope. This was also the bad news.
The thief dangled from a thick length of knotted rope, one end tied tight around his ankles, the other tied to a tree branch high, high above. His arms were kept behind his back by a strange mass of pink goo sticking both his hands together—some horrid native sprite magic, maybe. He was definitely not going anywhere anytime soon.
Six lust sprites surrounded him, cooing over their prize. The creatures had bright red hair, almond-shaped black eyes, and pale skin. Each also bore a single short, sharp horn in the middle of her forehead.
Snatch knew how these creatures worked. They sought out men or women with stamina, tricked or seduced the marks into giving permission, and swarmed them before it could be withdrawn. He now had a wad of moist panties in his mouth to keep him quiet—doubtless reserved just for the occasion, as the long skirts these creatures liked to wear were clearly just for show. The sprite juices on the gag were sweet, bearing the faint flavor of vanilla.
Typical. Fey juices never could just be bitter—they always had to pretend to be wholesome.
He’d already been stripped, though the fey had thoughtfully folded up his clothes nearby. The creatures were not evil. Not deliberately, anyways. His old partner had called them, ‘basically elemental’, which he took to mean ‘very, very dumb’. And considering that these particular sprites came from the Wild East, the language barrier would likely have prevented any meaningful conversation, regardless. And even had he not had a pair of gods-damned panties stuffed in his mouth.
“Silly boy!” one of them sang, dancing around him.
“Horny boy!” another moaned, masturbating furiously with what looked like... wait, that couldn’t be...
He howled into his makeshift gag as the sprite pounded into her wet cunt the shaft of his gods-damned scythe!
Snatch was a complex man. Killing him? Fair enough. He probably deserved it. Robbing him? Turnabout was fair game. But humiliating him, or even mildly embarrassing him, was right out. Evil or not, these creatures had to die.
But he had more pressing matters to deal with. The sprites had overcome the excitement of their capture and decided to turn back to their main purpose. They got to their feet, his scythe mercifully cast aside, and started... staring at him.
He squirmed, unsure at first what they were doing. He swung slightly from the rope, avoiding the lust sprites’ gleaming red eyes.
He began to feel a strange tingling sensation. Now he squirmed for a different reason, staring straight at their jiggling breasts as they moved closer. The tingling intensified, moving upwards towards his naked, hardening cock. He couldn’t help but notice how wet their pussies were. He licked his lips.
The lust waves, he realized, starting to pant. A lust sprite’s most powerful weapon, they transferred any of the pleasure the sprite was currently feeling into the target. And lust sprites were always—always—horny.
The sprites were five feet from him now. Snatch’s face was burning with humiliation, but for some reason, that did nothing to calm his libido. His cock was rock-hard, and it hungered for a tight, wet sheath. He swallowed, seeing how their lips parted when they looked at his manhood.
“So horny,” one of them cooed.
“Me so horny,” another gasped.
“You so horny,” the two hissed, grinning at him.
The tingling was getting stronger, the lust more insistant. He could barely breath. He was desperate for relief, but he struggled to fight it, to fight the arousal. He glared fiercely at the sprites, trying to instill every ounce of anger and indignation into his eyes, to will them to keep their distance. This only seemed to encourage them.
“Me want fuck,” a lust sprite said. Her index finger slipped inside her pussy. She gave him a big smile as she brought it back up, now dripping with her wetness, and started to slide it in and out of her mouth. She sucked it with evident delight, slurping off every little drop of her own juices.
“You want fuck, too,” said a third, pinching her nipples. It was almost a question—not that he could answer. Not that they needed an answer.
The sprites were a foot away now, in a tight circle, shoulder-to-shoulder. They beamed at him. Defiantly, he spun himself around to fix each with a deadly glare.
Bad idea. One of the sprites’ eyes lit up, and she grabbed him by the waist. His cock gave a joyous throb, but that wasn’t her plan.
Instead, she gave him a big, wild spin. His world went blurry as he started to whirl around, and she giggled and kept spinning him. Apparently, this was the height of humor for her. He swore mindlessly into the gag as he spun around and around, getting dizzier and dizzier.
The dizzier he got, the harder it got to think. The harder it got to think, the harder it was to fight the lust. He gasped for breath, his mind scattering, spinning, his cock tingling with desperate need—
And sometime around the tenth cycle, the lust sprite stepped back. He was momentarily relieved. The spinning slowed.
Then he realized the six sprites were reaching down between their legs. Slowly, grinning at him, they hitched their long black skirts up to... to...
Oh, fuck, are they gonna—
As one, they began to stroke their wet, tight pussies. And his world went red.
Wave after wave of overwhelming lust crashed through him. It was blinding. It was irresistible. It was too much—fuck, too much—he was disoriented, trapped, and—
“Oh, so, so horny,” cried one of the sprites. She let out a whimper at her own ministrations.
“Boy gonna be horny too!” gasped two others in unison. “Gotta... gotta make him nice and horny, nice and ready for fucky-fucky...”
No! Snatch struggled against oblivion. He knew he wasn’t the bravest, or the toughest, but his strength of will was a gods-damned oh god oh god one of them was cumming.
He shook uncontrollably, moaning into his gag. The sprite in question was doubled over, screaming. She used one sticky hand to thrust in and out of her cunt and rubbed her pendulous, flushed breasts with the other. Her eyes rolled up into her skull. Her pleasure filled Snatch, made his heart soar, his mind spin even faster than his body.
Sprites had a hivemind, he remembered numbly. So when one came... oh, fuck.
“Oh! Unh! You ours!” One of them was humping his scythe’s shaft and running her wet fingers over her breasts, twisting and pinching and flicking her nipples. He didn’t even care about the scythe. All he cared about was watching her slick breasts bouncing up and down and to the sides and letting her lust sink into his mind and—
“Want! Oh, want it! Want fuck!” Another was rolling on the ground as plants invaded her drooling cunt. The tentacles of a large sundew slithered in to tickle within her pussy, as equally oversized bladderworts from a nearby pool approached to start sucking at her breasts. He stared at her for a moment as he spun, watching her gasp, gurgle, babble...
“Mmm... mmmm!” A third sprite had somehow gotten her blouse and skirt tangled in a small thornbush. She appeared to have despaired of getting them off and had decided to just watch the others She groaned with need, unable to touch herself but unable to stop watching. Snatch trembled. He could relate.
He swung wildly from the rope, crying out into his gag. He realized he’d started actively sucking at the sprite juices in the gag, willing them to overpower him even further. He wanted to stop, but not as badly as he wanted to never, ever stop. He couldn’t fight this. How could he? It was too much. So much...
“So much...” one of the sprites whispered, crawling closer to him. He whimpered as she reached up and laid a soft hand on his cheek. “So much lust... me need... need... ooh...”
She ripped the panties out of his mouth. He knew this was his moment. He had to... had to tell them... something.
He blinked blearily, swallowing the last of the juices. What had he been planning to do? It had been important, hadn’t it?
Could it have possibly been as important as her pretty, sparkling red eyes?
He stared helplessly at the sprite, and she gave him a dazzling smile that made him forget all his worries. She put one hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer. His mouth opened in an “O” of longing.
The almond-eyed beauty started kissing him passionately, her moist, plush lips smacking and shlopping against his, her tongue wrestling within his mouth. She moaned loudly, and so did he. His cock longed for more.
But they’d been heard.
With a pop, the sprite’s lips broke from his. He realized someone had pulled her away. She mewled pathetically, and he whined, trying to reach for her.
In seconds, though, another had taken her place. She started kissing him madly, and his heart settled again. As her tongue thrust into him, her hand crept spider-like up his chest and towards his—
He groaned as she, too, was pulled away. They were giggling, he noticed vaguely. This was a game to them. Or foreplay. Or both. Another came over, kissing him on the lips, as two more licked and sucked and nibbled at his neck.
And then he felt steamy breath on his rigid manhood. He gasped against the kiss, whimpered with need—
And they were gone. As was the breath. The sprites watched him keenly, clearly enjoying his desperate state. He was beyond words. He didn’t care about his pride, he didn’t care about anything but these six horny beauties who were making him feel so much, so powerfully.
He just... he needed them, he needed them, needed to feel them on his skin again. He would do anything for that feeling. He loved them, his new mistresses. He was theirs, and unlike the nymphs, he knew they would treat him well. They would fuck his brains out, make him a nice, lust-crazed sex toy. To be their pet... A big, dumb smile spread across his face as he imagined it.
Another knelt before him, her nimble fingers pulling the goo off his hands. She gave him a filthy look and winked. “Horny boy now,” she hissed. “Nice and horny now, boy?”
“Yes!” he cried, leaning into her touch.
“Horny boy,” she said triumphantly. “Horny boy wants more.”
“We give more,” chorused another.
“Oh, so much more,” squealed a third. “You ours. We fuck you...”
“...and... and fuck...”
“... and suck, and buck...”
“... and fucky-fucky-fuck!” sang the one in front of him, planting a promising kiss on his cheek. She stood up, reaching for the rope binding his ankles.
And suddenly, he knew exactly what to do.
He lunged forward with both hands.
He grasped the gorgeous eastern creature by the waist.
He pulled her close, and the once-proud thief ground her cunt against his face. His tongue plunged in, and he started licking, right on her clit. Fireworks of bliss filled his mind as he felt her shocked arousal, but he just kept licking, and sucking, and kissing. He stabbed his tongue in and lapped hungrily at her cunt.
“Wh—hey!” the sprite squeaked. “Don’t—don’t, um... oh, oh, oh! Yes! Yessy-yessy good, ooh, oooooooh—” She started to fall to her knees, but he wouldn’t let her. He held her upright with all his might and channeled all his lust, all his frustration, all his love for her into his tongue. He sucked at her clit, savoring the waves of ecstasy that filled him as she approached orgasm.
After a moment’s jealousy, the sprites seemed to catch on to this new game. They were dimwitted, and this pleasure made them even dumber. They giggled in excitement, surrounding the lucky sprite , and began to focus their lust waves on her.
Though there was often a resistance, fey weren’t immune to other fey’s charms. Lust sprites certainly were not. The new victim started screaming with delight, unable to even manage basic language, as the lust sprites converged on her.
As they kissed her neck, she defended herself the only way she knew how, casting her own lust aura out on her attackers. As they suckled her breasts, licked her pussy like good little sluts, she filled them with her own feelings of bliss. And they returned the favor.
Gradually, thoughts tried to penetrate instead of tongues. Wait, the thoughts said. Where had the thief... where had he... oh. Oh. Oh, yes...
They couldn’t think about such things when such wonderful pleasure was flowing through them. They all fell to the ground, moaning, entwining with each other and whimpering as one.
Lust sprites had a hivemind, and turning their lust waves inward was, at best, ill-advised. Even for them. They had created an unending cycle of lust, desire and pleasure. Even had they had the brains to spare to notice, they wouldn’t have been able to care at that point that Snatch the thief was gone—and so was the rope.
Anna gave a long whimper. “Yil, she’s looking at me again.”
“Oh, dear Zuggtmoy.” She heard Yilra groan. “And how in the name of the seventeen great battles of Lumber Ridge can you know she’s looking at you...” the ranger took a deep breath as her voice rose, “... if you are not looking at her?”
“I don’t know.” Anna stared straight into the eyes of the spritelion. “But I’m not.”
Of course you aren’t, my little love. The spritelion smiled at her. I go ignored by those above.
Of course. Anna nodded to herself. She wasn’t looking at the spritelion. She was following Yilra’s orders to the letter.
Dear, oh, dear, but it’s so hot. The spritelion fanned herself. Does Yil not wear an awful lot?
Now that Anna thought about it—of her own volition, since she definitely wasn’t looking at the spritelion—Yilra really was pretty heavily dressed, considering the boiling temperatures. Anna wiped her brow with her arm. Anna was sweating, and she wasn’t even wearing anything at all!
“Hey, Yil,” she said, trying to sound casual, “don’t you think it’s a bit hot to be wearing... all that?” She gestured with her head to the ranger’s brown cloak and conservative gray clothes.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yilra stop rummaging in her cloak’s many pockets again. She couldn’t see her expression. “What.”
The spritelion giggled. “My, oh, my, but see her blush.” Other heats give her a rush.
“Anna, you idiot!” Yilra shouted. “I told you, don’t look—” She fell silent. “Wait, why didn’t she finish the rhyme?”
The spritelion’s grin widened in anticipation. Anna gave a bashful smile back. “Didn’t she?”
“What? Oh, no. Telepathy! Shit! She’s reading our minds! Snatch didn’t say anything about telepathy!”
Anna, darling, you look tired. Let go, and I’ll ignite your fire. She says she doesn’t want it, but she’s a liar.
Anna blinked. “Uh... no, I...”
Come and join me, my dear pet. Her eyes bored into Anna. I can smell your hot cunt’s wet. You can’t resist, Anna, dear. Let go of your fear. “Let go,” she said, “of the branch.”
One of Anna’s hands released the branch.
“Yessss,” the spritelion hissed. “Come down. Let me taste you.”
Anna shivered. The spritelion’s words were like honey, coating her pussy... sinking in... swirling like a whirlpool, stimulating like mad...
“Anna!” Yilra shouted. “Snap out of it! You’re free now!”
To her surprise, Anna realized she hadn’t let go completely yet. She tried to; nothing happened. The arm she had dislocated on the way down refused to obey her commands. The fingers were clenched, knuckles white, around the frail trunk.
“Let it go,” the sprite hissed. “Let it all go.”
Anna wanted to. She did. She wanted to serve. She wanted to be a good little slut. And to be a toy, and a bimbo, and a pet, and to suck and lick and entertain and... so many things. The nymphs had fucked her brains out and replaced them with trigger after trigger after trigger. She wanted everything.
But her injured arm simply wasn’t listening to the spritelion, she realized. It was listening to her. The real her. Her left arm was... different. But she wasn’t allowed to remember why.
If only she could remember why, she could tell it to stop.
“Anna,” Yilra said, voice unsteady, “you have to fight it.”
I’m trying! she thought, whimpering. But the arm’s just ignoring me!
“Hm. So you don’t want pleasure, after all.” The spritelion sniffed. “Perhaps the ranger heeds my call.”
“Go to hell, creature.”
Anna’s eyes widened. Yilra couldn’t say that to the spritelion! She was lovely, and wonderful, and beautiful, and... A bit of drool trailed from Anna’s open mouth... hot...
Hot fey commanded her. That was the rule. They deserved to make all little human sluts their own, so they could fuck and fuck and... But Yilra was confused. Anna gave a little smile, understanding. She could fix that.
She started kick at Yilra’s crutch, trying to dislodge it.
“Anna!” Yilra cried. The crutch’s eagle talon tightened around her ankle, drawing more blood, but Anna didn’t care. “Stop it! I can’t—”
“Good, simple girl,” the spritelion breathed. “You do me well. She’s eager, too, judging by the smell.”
“Stop! Rhyming! And no, I’m not! I’m not a gods-damned faggot, you—” Caught up in her anger, Yilra looked down at the target of her shouting.
Her voice died.
She was beautiful.
The spritelion had flowing platinum-blond hair that went down to her waist. Her lips were full and lush. Her breasts hung free, large and perfect, flushed and round and divine. Her body itself was lithe and graceful—too slender to accommodate massive breasts like that, really. Fortunately, this wasn’t a problem, as everything below her waist was down in the sand. It was probably pretty easy on her back.
And her eyes... they were every color. Every. Single. One. Yilra tried to count them all, but she simply couldn’t. There were colors she hadn’t known existed. They swirled, captivating the ranger in mere seconds. At least, it felt like seconds.
Her mouth opened. She stared in wonder. So... pretty...
The spritelion gave her a smile so full of love, so full of longing, that Yilra couldn’t help but take one of her hands off the crutch to brush her short red bangs out of her eyes. She blushed deep crimson, smiling back.
“Wha...” she heard Anna mumble. “Huh? Yil! Yil, don’t!”
The words partially snapped Yilra out of her reverie. She registered that Anna was free now—it was likely the spritelion could only fully captivate one target at a time.
Her free hand lowered down to her belt and pulled out the syringe she’d been looking for. The Lust Dam. Not ideal, but the only way. She tried to stab herself in the arm, but it slid to the side, not even pricking the skin.
The spritelion smirked. So hard to aim, when your eyes are elsewhere. I see what draws your gaze. She reached up, cupping her breasts together. They jiggled pleasingly. I know what you want, she whispered in Yilra’s mind. You need only come to me and take it.
Yilra’s other hand—the one holding the crutch—trembled. Slowly, her fingers started to give way. She tried to inject herself again, but to no avail. She just couldn’t make herself do it.
She was barely hanging on now. The spritelion grinned, showing needle-sharp teeth. Come to me.
Yilra’s eyes rolled back into her head. She no longer cared.
“Yilra!” Anna screamed. “No!”
As she released the crutch, something pricked her breast. Vacantly, she realized it was the mushroom clasp she always wore.
A mushroom clasp.
She slid down the slope...
A ranger’s clasp.
She felt the spritelion’s soft hands wrap around her left arm...
She blinked. The clasp of a Toxin Ranger, of the order founded by Aurora the Dark, warriors against diseases and poisons of the body and mind.
The spritelion was reaching for her other arm—the arm that held the syringe...
The order she’d joined fifteen years ago, when she was but a lass of seven years. Aurora herself had taken Yilra by the hand and guided her through the pledge.
“All give in to me,” the spritelion whispered. “Even you. And soon both of you will be mine.”
I, Yilra, pledge to defend those within the realms before the realms themselves, to put peasants before kings, beggars before moneylenders, to purge all evils borne by the insidious toxins...
She snapped to attention, elbowing the spritelion in the face. With all her might, she pushed herself up with one arm and threw the syringe upward.
It flew true.
“OW!”
Anna reached down, eyes wide. Did she just... yeah. She did.
The syringe had stuck her in the ass.
Slowly, wincing, she pulled it out. It didn’t much hurt—Toxin Rangers were famous for their syringe craftsmanship—but it was, well, startling. Whatever it was, it had already discharged its payload.
She watched helplessly as Yilra was tackled by the laughing spritelion, who began thrusting in and out of the ranger’s cunt with her fingers. Yilra cried out, looking shellshocked.
“I’d tell you you should spread your thighs,” the spritelion said, “but they aren’t there to guard my prize.” She pulled her fingers out and licked them off, before descending on Yilra’s pussy with a long, forked tongue. Yilra started screaming, and Anna could only watch, growing more and more...
Anna blinked. This wasn’t arousing at all.
She frowned, looking between her legs. Nothing? Just moments before, she’d been dripping wet. Now...
The syringe. Anna’s eyes widened. Yilra had saved Anna, at her own expense. But now she could...
Anna climbed out, unnoticed by the rather distracted spritelion, and shakily got to her feet. She looked around.
And was suddenly tackled from behind.
The ex-nymphtoy was sent flying in the bushes, struggling futilely against something strong, quick, and... in her frenzy to force her attacker off, she put her hand on something round. She blinked. Female. Very female.
“Oh! Hey!” A pair of olive-green eyes glared at her, pushing her away. Anna fell in the grass and stared blankly.
Before her stood a young woman who looked about Anna’s age. Her eyes were bright green, marking her as a definite fey—but with strange catlike pupils. Her features were quite attractive, Anna noticed (not that such things were especially interesting to her right now), and very... cute. Not quite drop-dead gorgeous, but very, very cute.
Unlike most fey Anna had met, this one wore fairly modest black robes—though with little underneath, Anna had determined. Her dark hair was done up in a ponytail, and her hands were on her hips.
She also had a pair of large, fuzzy, catlike ears.
The fey crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it. ’Oh, she’s a fairy. She must wanna bang! Let’s bang!’ Well, fine.” She shrugged. “So I like banging. If you want, I’m game. But I like being asked first! You don’t have to go running me down like that!”
“The... the ears...”
“Huh?” The catgirl’s eyes widened. “Oh, gods, is something the matter with my ears?” The fey reached up and felt them. “Oh, nope. They’re fine.” She rubbed them happily, eyes half-closing. “Juuuust fine.” A tail emerged from behind her, twitching excitedly.
After a moment, her eyes shot open. “But!” She walked over, grabbing Anna around the waist and lifting her to eye level. She paused while standing, eying Anna’s breasts. “Mm, nice.”
“What?”
“Birds!” The fey looked up, blushing bright red. “Tits! They’re—they’re a bird!” She blinked. “Wait, did I not say ‘nice tits’ out loud?”
Anna stared at the fey. “Not until just now.”
“Fuck! I mean, um...” The fey straightened. “M-my point is, I’m not here to lick and be licked. At least, not now. Well, not now-now.” She coughed.
“Um...” Anna took a step back. Normally, she’d probably be putty in this creature’s claws, but she had her mind clear for the first time in over a year, and she intended to take advantage. She crossed her arms to cover her breasts and scowled. “Not to be rude, but what do you want? I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Right!” The fey nodded quickly. “That’s why I’m here, actually! I’m here to help!”
Anna rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. Like the nymphs were? And that spritelion? And Llithy and Writhy? And the goo girls?”
“Well, no, I—wait, there are goo girls in this forest?”
“Not anymore. The nymphs chased them out after letting them play with me for a bit.”
“Oh.” The fey looked a bit too disappointed at this, but she quickly recovered. “Anyways, no. I’m not here to fuck, hotness, I’m here to help.” She reached behind and pulled out a length of rope, grinning. “See? Show of good faith! You can even tie me up afterwards to, uh, prove I’m friendly.” Her voice quieted. “Or, um, not, y’know. Whatever. I don’t care.”
Anna’s eyes widened. “You have rope? Wonderful!” She reached out and took the coil. “Thank you so much!” On impulse—and nothing else, thanks to the ranger’s poison—she leaned in and kissed the fey girl on the cheek.
The fey swayed, giving a dumb smile. “Aw, well...”
“Come on!” Anna grabbed the fey by the hand and ran for the pit—only to find her way blocked.
A terrifying humanoid creature had somehow snuck up on them. It was completely covered in mud and dead leaves. Whatever it was, it had Alrek’s scythe. Its eyes blazed, and it spoke with the voice of the thief.
“You. Stole. My. Rope!”