Shifty Characters Ch. 04
Ten minutes after a very strange group of four had left the little mossy haven within the Greatest, Darkest Forest—which was beginning to live up to the latter part of its name as dusk descended upon the world—there was a flash beside the green-covered stones.
Six handsome little men appeared, sprawled on the ground and moaning softly. They did not move for several minutes more.
A change began to come over them as they lay there. Their noses grew and became hooked. Their eyes turned beady, their skin rougher and warty. Their neat, tight-fitting clothes became shabbier and shabbier as the minutes wore on. Soon, they were back to their ordinarily hideous forms—the forms goblins generally wore when outside the pocket dimension known as the Murk, barring glamers.
“Right,” growled their leader. He struggled to his feet. This goblin was the most handsome of them all, making him an awful insult of an entity. “Now I’m right pissed.”
“That...” The smallest of their number still lay there, panting. “She was... she was...”
“Somethin’ off ’bout that chicklet.”
“Yeah, what’s ’at about, Ancyl? She was just some loose girl a demon’d grabbed.”
“There’s a whole lot more to her than that!” Ancyl, the handsome goblin, snapped. He leaned over and yanked two of his brothers to their feet. “That demon whore grabbed ’er, yeah, but then she sent ’er here! She took an interest, she did. An’ now I reckon I know why.”
“She’s one o’ them.” One of the older goblins managed to climb up onto a stone. He spat something out. “Has a power over us, if we’re fool enough to let our guard down. I han’t been persuaded t’lick a woman in...”
“Alright, alright, Cestod.” Ancyl grimaced. “I can’t lookitchya in this world an’ hear those words outchyer hideous mouth. Speak ’em when we’re in the Murk an’ I’ll listen rapt, y’know it, but you’re ugly as a goblin right now.”
Cestod snorted. “So what now? We won’t find one dirty as her in... well, a good spin or five, I figure.”
“Yeah.” The youngest one gave one last sigh as he climbed to his feet. “I guess we can go back an’ go back to each other’s company.”
“Uh-uh. Boring.” Ancyl rubbed his eyes. “An’ again with the sayin’—of-that-with-that-face, Hirud.”
“Sorry, Ancyl.”
“But nah, nah.” A cruel smile appeared on Ancyl’s comparatively-handsome face. “We don’t give up so easy. Someone grabbed her from us, an’ y’know what? I bet it was that hot little eastern savage.”
“Ooh, the fox?” Hirud looked interested now.
“A human can dip into the Murk if we’re still transitioning through, but we was all the way in just now. Only a fey can get in then. An’ only li’l Swishy’s dumb enough to try it.” Ancyl’s silver eyes glinted as darkness fell upon his face. “We’ll track down that cunt. Put her in her place. An’ we’ll find our fledgeling druid.”
He turned to look at what could be seen through the trees of the sunset, giving a nasty laugh. “They’ll be ours before the big man’s up, boys. We’ll have our fun yet.”
“I can’t believe the goddamn sun already goddamn set.”
“These things happen, my incessantly irritable friend.”
“Stop making up words. And this only happened because someone had to go ‘pee’. With his hypnotized nymph. For an hour.”
“Snatch.” Balabar held up his hands in a gesture of false modesty. “Can a man help it if he has stamina?”
“That just sounds really weird when you put it next to your cover story,” Larya said. “Stamina for peeing? Seriously.”
The hypnotist and his incessantly irritated friend turned to Larya, looking mildly surprised.
Larya hadn’t spoken much since she’d joined up with this party of psychopaths. She’d ignored Snatch’s complaining, tried to ignore Balabar’s constant come-ons, and failed to ignore the sounds of his and Sinthia’s passionate lovemaking when he had stepped out for his ‘bathroom break’ a couple hours ago.
“I’m starting to like this girl,” Snatch said, giving what a fifteen-year old vulture with syphilis might term a smile. If it was blind in one eye. “Yeah, Balabar, real creepy lie there.”
Balabar rolled his eyes, smiling. “Snatch, if you’re so bad at comebacks that you have to hide behind a girl, is that really something to be proud of?”
Hanging on his shoulder, the nude nymph once known as Sinthia but now generally referred to by a series of progressively more humiliating pet names giggled airily. “Ooh, Master’s so smart and clever!”
Snatch’s eyes narrowed. “That—both of you, shut up! The point is, it’s your fault we’re already making camp, and you’re just a... perverted idiot person!”
“My, my. I think you might be ready for one-on-one repartee with Sinthia.” Balabar smirked, leaning down and kissing Sinthia on the neck. He steadily worked down her neckline. “Do you... mm... think you could handle that, my squealing little whore?”
“Oh! Uh... oh, yes...” Sinthia’s eyes half-closed. She didn’t seem to have heard the question, and this only made Balabar laugh as he began kissing her perky, round breasts.
Snatch looked away. Larya couldn’t. She felt almost forced to watch.
Larya had been having a difficult day. Up until recently, she had been three hundred miles away, the reluctant apprentice to an impressively perverted wizard. Then he’d screwed up his first major summoning, and she’d ended up the plaything of a succubus. Then she had been sent here and made the plaything of a bunch of goblins. And when she’d gotten free...
Even Sinthia, dumb and addled and brainwashed, had been able to hypnotize her. Larya still felt a bit hypnotized—whenever Sinthia looked at her, her knees got wobbly, the command to go to sleep rang in her ears, and her pussy got just a little bit wetter.
It didn’t help that she’d been stuck with one of Balabar’s humiliating outfits as her only source of modesty. It was barely even clothing, consisting of a bright red miniskirt, a pair of semi-see-through tights, and a blouse that showed much more of her ample bosom than it hid. It looked like something a woman in the Kingdom of the Chosen would wear.
“Hey. Girl.” Fingers snapped in front of her face.
Larya blinked. She looked at Balabar and Sinthia, the latter giving soft moans as Balabar’s hand rubbed along her naked form, teasing her with its nearness to her sex. Sinthia’s eyes opened slightly, and she gave Larya a terrifyingly erotic smile.
Larya swallowed. She turned to Snatch. “Thanks. I—oh!”
Snatch had just shoved a large bag at her. She caught it just before he let go, and staggered from its weight. “Whoa. This is crazy heavy, Snatch.”
“Yup. That’s why you’re taking it. We need to set up the tents.”
“Oh. Okay.” Larya dumped the bag on the ground and fished out several telescoping poles. “So, listen... I know you probably don’t have three tents, but I can’t...” She glanced back, seeing Balabar and Sinthia half-running, half-falling into the bushes. “I can’t be in their tent.”
“You won’t be.”
“Thanks.” Larya flushed as she lay out the tarp. “And I assume you won’t want me in yours.”
“Clever woman.”
They worked in silence for a moment. As Larya began setting the poles, she took a little risk. “I get the sense women make you uncomfortable, Snatch.”
It was like she’d just told him he was pregnant, and she was the father. Snatch whirled on her. His face went through a few emotions—angry, embarrassed, angry, angry—and eventually crashed on annoyed. He grimaced. “Me and woman... It’s not a matter of comfort.” For emphasis, he slammed his mallet down on one of the tent stakes.
“Then what is it?”
Snatch snorted. “I don’t like being controlled.”
He looked at her, then. Frowned.
The bounty hunter quickly went back to work.
Larya felt she had done something wrong. Or, at the very least, unusual. She guessed Snatch wasn’t used to being frank.
Larya scowled. Well, he was about to get a dosage of the receiving end. “That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“’Scuse me?”
“Who was Sinthia, before Balabar took her in?” Larya pointed at the tiny winged woman curled up on Snatch’s shoulder. “Who was... Lapis? You hate losing control, but your friend takes it from people constantly. You realize him and his slave tried to rape me back there?”
“I stopped them, didn’t I?” Snatch snapped. “Sinthia was some bitch who tried to harass us. She’d have done the same to us, so pardon me if I don’t mourn her. And as for Lapis...” He glanced at the fairy on his shoulder. “Balabar hypnotizes people as he goes.”
“Girls. He hypnotizes girls. He talks like a Chosen.” Larya crossed her arms. “I know Chosen. My town’s bordered their kingdom for years, and... well, he talks just like one. And even if he just hypnotized Lapis ‘because she was there’, that doesn’t explain why you keep her around like a portable sex toy.”
“Hey.” Snatch glared. “I ain’t touched Lapis.”
Larya raised an eyebrow, tapping her elbow.
Snatch blinked, and noticed Lapis was leaning against his neck. “Well, except for right now, but not touched-tou—you get what I mean. But girls he leaves behind don’t fare so great without him. I’m just letting her tag along until the magic wears off.”
Larya’s eyes narrowed. “The fact that you know what he’s doing is wrong just makes it worse. You still travel with him; help him; pitch his tent.” Actually, she had no doubt Snatch was only pitching his own tent, but she quickly went on before he could point that out. “He may be a monster and a rapist, but what does that make you?”
Snatch’s jaw clenched shut. He was silent for a moment. And as she waited for a response, a few things clicked for Larya.
She inwardly cringed. She didn’t know this man. He hunted and killed people for a living. She knew he could cut her in two right now if he wanted to—or just let Balabar take her. She had just given a brutally honest speech about a wandering murderer’s immorality to the wandering murderer.
Snatch reached over, grabbed Larya’s last stake, and pounded it into the ground with a blow that could shatter bones. “Bounty hunters aren’t in the business of questioning their teammate’s morals, girl.”
Larya straightened, nodded glumly, and turned away.
“Then maybe,” she muttered, “one oughtn’t be a bounty hunter.”
She knew Snatch heard her, but he didn’t say a word. He just stalked inside his newly set tent, pinning the flap shut behind him.
Larya registered then that the cries and moans from the bush had ceased. She turned, hurrying in the opposite direction.
She was glancing back, wondering if she was being followed, when she bumped right into Balabar’s waiting arms.
Suisshu—“Swish” to her friends—and Mier lay against opposite walls of the dark, humid cave. Between them, a small fire blazed, lighting their faces: Swish, brown-eyed, with spiky red-orange hair and a bright smile, and Mier, her eyes a shifting shade of silver, her short hair a shocking neon red.
Swish watched as the firelight sprinkled shadows upon Mier’s small form, making her dull-colored clothes difficult to distinguish from her dusky naked flesh. Mier hadn’t been that small before, had she? Now she was almost as little as Swish herself, and Swish knew she was short even by the standards of her homeland.
Swish knew Mier was looking her over as well, though there was both much more and much less to see. Swish, like most fey, was completely naked right now. Her relatively small breasts were on full display, though she had her legs close enough together to preserve some semblance of modesty. But not much. She looked down, noticing how the shadows danced and played across her own body. “I am sorry for my manner,” she said softly.
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Mier leaned over and turned the little spit roasting her dinner. “You got me a pheasant. I’ll put up with a lot for food. I’ve put up with worse than having to look at a hot naked lady.”
Swish giggled.
“So, I guess you’re probably wondering the obvious thing,” Mier said. “About me.”
Swish was silent for a time, but quickly spoke when Mier opened her mouth to prompt her. “Yes.”
“Well?”
Suisshu weighed her answer for a few seconds before speaking. “What kind of a name is Mier, anyway?” She looked up at Mier, giving a wink. “I have heard many names since my arrival in this land. That one sounds almost like a joke, when you consider who bears it.”
Mier looked taken aback. “What? You aren’t gonna ask about—”
Swish held up a hand. “That cut I saw in your below?” She frowned. Behind her, her three fox tails twitched in annoyance. “Erm... belly?” She waited on Mier’s confirming nod before continuing. “You did not want me to see that. It was rude of me to ask about it before. Besides, you have so cleverly concealed it, and it would be rude to de-regard such fine deception.”
“You’re a weird fey, Swish.”
Swish blushed. She couldn’t tell if she was being complimented or not. “You are... a weird doppelganger, Mier.”
“Yeah.” Mier gave a weird smile. “But anyways, the name? Doppelgangers like names like that. My sister’s name was Shyfft—it’s spelled funny, see—and my uncle was called Murph.” She paused. “It’s ’cause it sounds kind of like morph. Which is a word for shapeshift. The joke may not translate.”
“Oh. Okay.” Swish laughed. She wanted to be polite. She wasn’t sure why, but she really wanted Mier to like her. Desperately. Something about the doppelganger was just... magnetic. Her personality, her confidence, her... something. Something in those silver eyes.
“So, hey.” Mier raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never been with—never spoken with anyone from the Wild East before. What’s it like over yonder?”
There was a curiously hungry glint in her eye. Again, Swish found herself eager to please her, to impress her. “Oh, it’s quite nice. The land is beautiful, and the fey are... perhaps a bit wiser than those here. There are more dragons, as well. I know many of the great wyrms here were slain long ago.”
“Slain or hidden.” Mier pursed her lips. “Some of them got clever. The rest... didn’t.”
“So I have heard.” Swish sighed. “In the Wild East, beasts and man and fey interact more peacefully between each other. I can walk into a town of humans and be treated like an honored guest.” And much, much more, she thought. She rubbed her legs together, remembering.
“Sounds pretty nice.”
“Oh, yes. Only...” Swish grimaced. “They treat each other like nothing. Humans fight humans, fey fight fey, and the demons keep it so. Local autori... authorities hold all the power, and not all wield it very good. War is constant. I loved the land, but I grow weary of taking a sword with me everywhere I go.”
“So you left.”
“Yes.” Swish’s smile returned. She started to stretch her legs, but quickly stopped herself. She might take it as a rude invitation, she thought, flushing bright red again. It is so dreadfully confusing to be a fey in this land.
“Huh.” Mier seemed to be digesting this new information. She didn’t appear to notice Swish’s sudden embarrassment, and spent a moment silently turning the spit. “So, hey. This may come off the wrong way, but... you don’t strike me like the other girls of the Wild East. At least, not those I’ve heard about. They’re said to be a bit...” She paused, seeming to search for a non-crude way to say it. “...bothersome.”
Despite herself, Swish pulled a face. “Oh. You have heard of the lust sprites.”
“That what they’re called?”
“Scandalous half-fey that take what they please for their own pleasure. Your land has them, too, but they take on the manners of whatever is expected of them. Being morons, those that come from my land quickly form what is expected of all eastern women, and so they took on that.” Swish scowled. “With the ‘sucky sucky’, and the ‘me so—’... well, you know. It is all they say now.”
She tried to keep her tone relatively neutral. In truth, had a fey asked this of her, Swish might have punched them. Eastern fey and humans alike despised the stereotypes, and the sprite only served to validate them. Suisshu was quite tired of being complimented on her ‘articulation’.
“That a fact?”
“... I rode the same ship that brought so many of them here to begin with. As I said, fey do not get along where I come from, but sometimes the conflict is handled... in other ways.” Swish tried and failed to suppress the memories. Countless nights and days spent in the hold, held down and licked on every inch of bare flesh, driven to constant orgasms that only ended when she managed to distract her tormenters with each other and crawl away for a few minutes’ respite. Even that option had vanished when the sprites had worked out how to work the brig’s manacles. “There are worse ways to travel, but one gets bored of the exact same sort of woman after three months at sea. Particularly when they control everything you do. It was humiliation, and me... I long for new experiences. That’s part of why I came here.”
Mier blinked.
Swish was still reliving one of the many memories forged on that little boat when she felt a soft hand touch her knee. She looked up, eyes widening as she took in Mier’s rainbow-colored eyes, the colors dancing, spinning, sending Swish’s mind into spirals. Mier’s voice was rough with desire. “Then... how about we make some?”
“Whuh?”
Mier’s red hair began to grow long, developing a gorgeous sheen. She’d crawled around the fire, and her face was a foot away from Swish’s. She licked her lips. “Swish, you’re really hot. And I can tell you feel hot.”
Swish’s mouth watered as Mier’s fingers slowly dipped down between the fox girl’s legs. “I... b-but...”
“But you’re also really, really attractive when you talk about new experiences.” Mier’s voice was husky. She batted her eyelashes at Swish, and the on-off, on-off of the rainbow eyes made Swish’s head spin. “I want to be with you. I have to be with you. Now.”
The fingers came to rest against Swish’s sex. Softly, gently, they pulled open the lips—not that it was difficult, as Swish was getting insanely wet. She took a breath in and inhaled Mier’s smell. Only there wasn’t one.
She stared blankly into Mier’s gorgeous multihued eyes. No smell. Everyone had a smell, a scent only she could pick up, something unique to them. All foxes like her could smell it. But all the doppelganger had was what was added on—pheromones, sweat, pussy juices. Even the smell of soap from a recent bath was gone now. It was nothing but the purest scent of lust.
It was intoxicating. Slowly, eagerly, she leaned forward to kiss the beautiful, scentless creature—
“Well, well. Heh. This is a surprise.”
Swish spun her head with so much force that she bopped Mier right on the forehead. The doppelganger fell back, swearing. Swish wanted to apologize, but she was too busy growling when she realized who had interrupted.
It was Ancyl. The warty-faced goblin—uglier than sin; the most beautiful goblin in all the land—leered at them both, giving a throaty chuckle. “I wondered why you always turned me an’ my boys down. And here I find you ready to lie with some... thing. Should’ve known you would have a thing for that.”
“Ancyl!” Swish snarled, leaping to her feet. “You filthy little—”
“Hey, believe me, I ain’t happy either.” Ancyl shrugged, pulling his face in an expression of innocence. “I’d’ve loved to keep watching. It was just startin’ to get good. But I got business here.”
“What business?” Swish heard Mier getting up behind her.
“Druid business. We’re lookin’ for our wayward babe, Swishy.” Ancyl scowled up at her as she advanced. “You made a big mistake grabbin’ off us.”
“I did not!” Swish’s temper didn’t often assert itself, but it did now. She had just been about to have sex—for the first time in many, many moons—with a beautiful, wonderful girl. Creature. Person. Goddess. And this stupid, stupid little goblin... “Why would I steal off of you?” She gestured behind her, eyes narrowed to slits. “I am busy, as you can see! I do not invade your places. I leave you and you perverted gang free to grab and rape, as long as you do not bother me.” Actually, when she said it like that, it sounded kind of bad. But it couldn’t be helped, could it? Too many fey in this land were okay with ‘taking’ for her to get too forceful with her morals.
She heard a rustling in the bushes. Ancyl never went anywhere without at least four other goblins as meat shields.
“Hmph.” Ancyl looked around Swish. He seemed to be weighing his chances. To Swish’s surprise, he seemed to find them wanting. “You are busy, aren’t ya? Maybe there’s someone else runnin’ about. Been hearin’ things. Bounty hunters stirring up trouble. Hypnotists. But if you’re lyin’ to us, doll, there ain’t a foxhole in the land that can keep us from you.”
Swish crossed her arms. “You do not scare me, tiny tart. I have fought with dragons.” Admittedly, mostly over biscuits and the morning paper, but dragons took their morning rituals seriously enough that this was still a fair boast.
“Huh.” Ancyl spat at her feet. “We’ll see.”
He turned and stalked off. Swish waited a full minute before turning around, smiling weakly. “I am sorry. My neighbors, they are—”
She caught a glimpse of a long blade of bone melting back into Mier’s hand. Mier looked at her, then quickly looked at her feet. Suddenly, Swish knew why Ancyl had backed off.
“You were ready to fight for me,” Swish said.
Curiously, Mier still didn’t meet her gaze. “I...d o not enjoy violence. But I do a lot of it.” She swallowed. “At least this time I’d have been doing it on someone else’s account.”
“Thank you. You are a good person.” Swish reached for Mier’s hand—deliberately, the one that had been forming the sword.
But the doppelganger pulled away. “No,” she muttered. “Don’t say that.”
“It is okay,” Swish said softly. She reached out again. “I know you are a good person, Mier.”
Mier looked at her, stunned, and suddenly Swish realized the doppelganger had become much, much smaller than her.
Without warning, Mier’s legs seemed to crumple beneath her like broken matchsticks. She slid down against the wall. Her hair grew long and tangled, shading her eyes.
“Mier!” Swish dropped to her knees, looking at the doppelganger. She didn’t seem hurt, but there was a deadness to her expression.
“I’m so tired,” Mier mumbled. “I messed up so bad. I mean, Swish, you don’t know. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have. Went for revenge instead of moving on. Now I’m stuck in this dark cave, hiding from shadows, killing any who threaten me and... me.” Her knees raised up, and she hugged them to her face, hiding her eyes. “This isn’t how I’m supposed to be! They said there were bounty hunters. Hypnotists—I can’t face a hypnotist. I don’t have the will now. I’m so f... so in trouble.”
Suisshu stared hard at Mier. In an instant, she came to a decision.
“Mier.” Swish grabbed Mier’s hand and squeezed it hard, trying to force life and hope back into the woman who seemed to have lost so much of both. “I will not let anyone hurt you.”
“You should go. Go and hide.” Mier’s knees lowered, and she gave Swish’s hand a weak squeeze back. Swish saw the midriff of Mier’s outfit opening, saw the false flesh melting away to show the ugly, discolored knife wound she’d concealed earlier. “My mucked up life isn’t your responsibility. I didn’t even put out yet.”
“Then whose is it? You are not able to be responsible for it right now.” Swish pulled Mier into an impulsive hug, then got to her feet. “If there are hunters, I will find them.”
“You can’t. The warrant doesn’t allow for me to be alive. These are trained killers, Swish.”
Swish gave her hand a flick. A long, curved, razor-sharp blade appeared in it with a flash. She spun the blade with two fingers, then gave Mier a wink. “So am I.”
Larya fell away from Balabar with a wordless cry. He just stood there, smiling as smugly as ever.
“I heard you and my thief friend arguing,” he said. Larya noticed his silver pocket watch was out. “How unfortunate. You two seemed to really have a bond.”
“Just a small point of d-disagreement,” Larya said nervously. Half of her—her instinctive side—wanted to keep an eye on the pocket watch. The other half—her lucid side—wanted to avoid looking at it at all costs. She compromised by watching his hands.
Balabar rubbed his palms, as if cold. They were such smooth, gentle-looking hands. These hands had never known the bite of metal or the sting of blisters, never done a day’s honest work in their entire existence. Larya felt the insides of her own hands—badly scarred from her days managing the blacksmith’s forge—and screwed up her courage. “Is there something wrong, Balab—Balabar?” Stammer. Not good, she chided herself. Why does his name have to be so hard to say?
“Oh, I hope not.” He smiled. It was such a kind, beautiful smile. Larya wanted so badly to trust him.
And then his hands loosened, and the pocket watch fell out to dangle from its long brass chain. Larya’s eyes were caught by the movement, and for a split-second she couldn’t help herself. She watched it fall.
“There,” Balabar whispered, though she barely heard him. She was staring at the watch. It was starting to swing, all on its own, as if by magic. The dim light from the campsite flicked and pranced upon the bright, well-polished silver disc, flashing and dazing her.
Her hands flew to her eyes. “Damn it! We agreed—”
“Oh!” Balabar sounded shocked. “I... I’m sorry, Larya, that wasn’t intentional. I wasn’t thinking. Old habits die hard.”
He did sound sincere. No, you idiot, of course he does, he tricks and rapes girls for a living! And for a hobby. And probably for everything he does! “That’s a poor excuse for picking at a woman’s mind like it’s a lump of goddamn bog iron!”
“No, really,” he said earnestly. “I was about to put this watch away.”
“You’re a pig and a monster.” Again, Larya knew she shouldn’t be being so aggressive. No matter how true her words were, they could still see her killed. Or worse. But she was just so pissed right now.
“Oh, I may well be.” Behind her hands, Larya frowned. Balabar’s tone was shifting. “But think about it. I only hypnotize people for a few days at most. And believe me, during this time, they enjoy it. They’re very, very happy.” Larya could hear the smirk staining his words. “And then I leave them remembering none of it. No harm, no foul. They get a taste of something they secretly wanted—”
“Their subconscious wanted it.”
“—they get a taste of something a part of them wanted,” Balabar continued, louder, “and I get a companion or two for a few lonely nights.”
“You’re full of it,” Larya muttered.
“Am I? All I do is make people happy. Have you heard how happy Sinthia is?” Balabar chuckled. “I know you have. I know you’ve been looking at her.”
Beneath her hands, Larya felt her cheeks burning. “I... I didn’t—”
“You’ve been looking at her ever since you met her. You’ve watched her every time she moans, wishing you could touch her. You’ve watched her every time she cums, wishing you could cum with her. You’ve seen that beautiful, stupid, dazed look in her eyes. The same one I saw on you earlier today. And you’ve wished you could join her.”
“No.” Larya’s heart was beating fast. “That’s not true. She hypno—”
“Hypnotized you?” Balabar laughed. It was a musical laugh, long and cruel and beautiful. “She’s just a mindless slut right now. She couldn’t hypnotize a chicken. You wanted it.”
“No,” Larya whispered. “She... nymphs can...” She’d read about it once. But here, in the darkness, blinded by her own hands, it seemed so long ago...
“Nymphs? Oh, Larya. Stupid, confused Larya.”
“Stop it,” Larya hissed through gritted teeth.
“Stop what?” He sounded puzzled. “I only said you were confused.”
“You said—”
“Because you said something wrong. Confused people do that. They say things that are wrong, because they’re just so confused and horny and can’t even think straight, can you?”
Larya shivered. It was the same shiver that had passed through her when the nymph had looked at her, and she had so longed to be just like—no, wait, that wasn’t right—
“You’re just so lost, aren’t you? You’re lost in a big, scary forest.” Did Balabar’s voice sound closer now? “You’re just a scared girl with no one to protect you. And I’m making you soooo horny, because the part of you that really matters just wants to be hypnotized sooooo badly.” He cooed the word.
“N-no, you’re—” She felt smooth, soft hands pulling away her own to uncover her eyes. “Stop, plea—”
“The wrong part of you is talking, Larya. That’s the part that’s confused. The part of you that matters knows what it wants.” Slowly, Balabar peeled Larya’s hands from her eyes. She stared in wide-eyed horror as she realized... realized...
Oh. Her eyes had not been shut. So she could see Balabar lifting the pocket watch, so pretty and shiny, as her hands fell uselessly to her sides.
“You know, I think you’re a bit of a slut, Larya. You let those ugly little goblins fuck you, and now you’re going to let me hypnotize you. What a bimbo you are.”
She trembled. Something was rising within her. Her breasts were growing flushed, her pussy, so poorly-covered by that tiny little skirt, growing moist...
“But you want this.” Balabar’s voice raised, very slightly, and Larya was struck as if by a tidal wave by his strength of will. “Say it.”
“I...”
“You want this.”
“I w... w...”
“You want this.”
Larya felt her will snapping. It felt so good, so... so...
“No!” she screamed, kicking Balabar in the balls.
Balabar’s eyes widened, and he fell to the ground, emitting a little squeak. Larya didn’t stop to consider her confusing emotional reactions to this. She just ran.
Ran.
The haze was still over her. It was there, strong as a wire cage, thick as a gancanagh’s pipe smoke, but she ran as fast as she could and tried to forget what she was running from. Larya had always been a fast runner. Frankly, it seemed a miracle that she hadn’t fallen yet—the forest was so dense, and the tree roots here were arched and dangerously curved as though designed to trip someone—but she took all her courage up in her arms and ran like wind.
It didn’t take long before Larya found she couldn’t remember exactly why she was running. She had certainly never had any idea where she was running. She heard cursing and thuds from behind her and only knew she had to keep—
“Oopsy!”
A hand grabbed her shoulder. Larya tried to keep going past, but the hand squeezed with so much strength Larya thought her arm had dislocated. Larya was jerked completely off her feet, and would have likely hit her head against the ground...
… had the slender, supple arms of Sinthia not caught and cradled her as she fell.
“Shh,” Sinthia cooed, holding Larya’s struggling arms against her sides with complete ease. She fell to her knees, flipped Larya over and forced Larya’s face right into her chest. “Shh. No fighting.”
Larya felt the smoothness of Sinthia’s perfect breasts as they smothered her. She struggled, but that only produced tiny oohs and aahs from Sinthia as her face involuntarily rubbed against them. She couldn’t breathe. She could barely move. “Mmf!” she cried.
“Good girl,” Sinthia cooed. “Relax. Sleep.” Larya felt fingers tickling down her leg, and jerked reflexively—helplessly—as they pulled up her little skirt and started to get to work. Tickling. Tormenting. Dancing around the one place she desperately needed to be touched. “Relax. Close your eyes.”
“Nnmmf...” Larya’s mind raced. She was panicking, and when she was panicked her heart beat faster, and she lost oxygen faster, and when she lost oxygen faster... she … she got tired... “Mmm...” She couldn’t tell if she was even trying to say anything anymore. It felt so nice. But she had to do something. Before she passed out.
She tentatively extended her tongue and licked Sinthia’s breast. Sinthia didn’t say anything, but she seemed to flinch. Larya started licking the delicious skin between the breasts. Distract her. Confuse her. Make her... “Unmm...” She felt the fingers tickling around her cunt and bucked involuntarily. Make her hot. Make her cum. Make her happy. No, wrong, wrong...
Her oxygen was getting so low. She couldn’t think. It was like she could feel her brain cells dying, and the more that died the less she cared, and...
“Good girl,” whispered a smooth voice. Larya jerked with pleasure, feeling her pussy clench—but not flow. She felt Sinthia trembling beneath her, her grip weak for an instant. Suddenly her arms were free.
Larya forced herself away from the green-haired goddess, gasping for breath, barely standing. She tried to reach downward—if she could cum, she could think—but someone else grabbed her hands.
She looked up, slowly, confused.
Lost.
There was Balabar. There were several scratches on his face and arms, and his coat was torn in several places, but Larya had never seen anyone so handsome. So strong. So... dominating. His orange eyes burned into her, owning her.
She almost came right there.
“N-no,” she mumbled, as he smiled down at her. “No. You’re gonna... hypnotize.”
“You already are hypnotized,” he said, guiding her gently—but firmly—to sit against a tree. “You’re already mine, you silly little bimbo.”
“Oh,” she whimpered. She saw Sinthia crawling towards her. “No.”
“Stupid slut,” he said, his smile widening. It wasn’t even said meanly. Just... correcting her. “You’re so confused. So sexy.”
Larya blushed. “I am?” she whimpered.
“Sexy,” cooed Sinthia, pushing up Larya’s skirt with both hands and leaning in. “Horny.”
“See how happy Sinthia is? Look into her eyes.” Larya did. “She’s just my adorable little toy. She knows that’s all she wants to be. It’s all you want to be, too. Isn’t it?”
“All I want.. .a-all I want...” Larya’s voice broke. She stared into those green eyes, lusty and fiery and yet... empty. Empty of all true thoughts. Just sex and love and desire and servitude.
“You want to be my sexy bimbo slave.” Larya could barely hear his words, or focus on the pocket watch as it was swung slowly, back and forth, right before her eyes, back and forth. But she did. It was important, she knew.
She tried to move away. Twice. But Sinthia was holding her so firmly, and the pocket watch was so hard...
“...so hard to concentrate on,” Balabar whispered, “when your tiny little slutty brain is busy trying to escape, to get up, to think all those hard thoughts. But your tiny slutty brain really just wants one thing.”
The tongue was probing around Larya’s cunt. She looked back at the swinging pocket watch, lost in its beautiful swing, lost in Balabar’s beautiful voice, lost, lost, lost.
Lost, and it felt so good to lose.
The tongue entered Larya’s cunt, and she gave a soft moan. “No, you can’t, I can’t be—”
“Are you telling me what to do?” The tongue paused its ministrations.
For some reason, Balabar’s scolding tone filled her with guilt. And Larya needed that tongue back. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Good girl. You’re a good little pet.” The tongue resumed, to Larya’s delight. “Call me Master, pet.”
“Unh...”
“Call me Master, you begging little bimbo.”
“Bimbo.” She giggled. The word sounded so nice. “Oh!” The tongue had flicked by her clit. “Oh, yes. Master.”
“Are you my bimbo?”
“I’m your... oh!” Sinthia had licked her clit again. It was like she had deliberately... Larya lost track of that thought as Master reached forward and pinched her nipple.
“Bad girl. Maybe you don’t want to be my toy after all.”
“Oh! No! No!” Larya shook her head eagerly, even as a tiny part of her mind frothed and spitted with rage. She stared into Master’s smug, arrogant, wonderful, perfect face. “I’m your b—” Lick.
“You’re my bimbo.”
“Your bi—oh—” Lick. “I’m your b—” Lick.
“You’re my bimbo.”
“Your bimb—OH!” Larya let out a shriek as Sinthia started to lap at her clit with gusto. “Yes! I’m yours, M-Master, oh, y-yes! I’m your b-b-bimbo!”
The pocket watch began to slow. Larya moaned, bucking against Sinthia ferociously. “Make me yours, Master! Oh, please, now, now! Make me your slutty bimbo slave! Make me come!”
“You’re very grateful, aren’t you? For fixing you like this.”
“Th-thank you so-o-o-o much!” she cried. And Larya meant it. She was so grateful to this wonderful man for fixing her. Fixing her brain. Making her feel so good and hot and slutty and obedient and grateful and so, so eager to please her perfect, perfect, perfect Master.
She moaned again, screwing her eyes shut in pleasure. Sinthia was licking and growling with her, and she felt so good, so horny, and she was about to—about to—
“Stop.”
Sinthia stopped licking.
Larya waited. The pleasure didn’t resume. She opened her eyes wide, staring at her perfect, smirking Master. “I’m so sorry, Larya. I forgot. You were right. Snatch told me not to fuck you. Besides, you told me that this was wrong, didn’t you?”
“No!” she cried. “Please, Master! I was wrong! You were right! Make me your bimbo slave!”
“No, no.” Balabar shrugged. “You’re a smart, independent woman. I should trust your judgment. Sinthia, get up.”
Sinthia rose. Her face and mouth were sticky with Larya’s juices as she leaned in to give Larya an orgasmic kiss, forcing Larya’s own fluids into her mouth. Larya moaned into the kiss, but could only lie there as Sinthia rose.
“Master,” she whispered. “No! Master!”
But her Master was moving, taking Sinthia by the arm. She rushed after them, her clothes a moist mess, and watched as they disappeared into their tent.
Larya dropped to her hands and knees and started to crawl. She crawled to the tent flap and pushed at it feebly. Something was stopping her from opening it.
She knew Master wouldn’t like it. And if he didn’t like it, her world was gone.
From within, Larya could hear moans and grunts. She peeked through the cracks. Though the light was almost nil, she could see almost perfectly. She’d always had good night vision.
Sinthia was facing her on her hands and knees, moaning like a wifwolf in heat. And behind her, Master—wonderful, handsome Master—clutched her by her hips.
As Larya watched, actually drooling, Master drove his beautiful cock into Sinthia’s pussy from behind. Sinthia let out a cry of pure bliss. “Oh, yes, Master!”
Balabar pulled back, then lunged forward again. And again. His stamina was unbearable—to Larya’s fractured mind, anyways. Sinthia’s moans and cries hit a crescendo in mere moments. Larya watched, panting, as Sinthia came.
And as Sinthia was screaming with bliss, she looked straight at Larya. And smiled. And giggled, as if Larya, a crawling bimbo drooling at the sight of her Master fucking another woman’s brains out, was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
Even hypnotized, fey could be cruel.
Larya knelt there for what felt like hours, watching her Master fuck the bimbo toy that had hypnotized her into a bimbo toy. She couldn’t masturbate. The thought of doing anything Master wouldn’t want was unbearable, and she knew he wanted to tease her. To drive her mad with lust. She just whimpered, and whined, and begged. She touched herself delicately, careful not to make herself cum, keeping herself unbearably on the edge like Master wanted. She promised to be a good slut, an obedient bimbo, to be her Master’s pet forever, to serve and protect and be fucked. She begged to be hypnotized again.
Lost and confused and edging her dwindling brains out, the bimbo eventually drifted off into a sleep of unsatisfying dreams.
That evening, Swish prowled through the undergrowth, disguised in her fox-form.
The disguise wouldn’t be worth much against other fey, of course. Still, it kept her low to the ground. Besides, she thought, grinning inwardly, it made her feel a whole lot sneakier.
She had come to the camp. The little fox sniffed the air. Steel. Sex. Walnut leaves. Buried feces. And a very strong scent mingling with the second one—something unique and pleasant. The fox sniffed the air again, enjoying the pleasant odor.
But these six scents meant something. Steel meant hunters. Dung meant humans. The walnut leaves surely meant Sinthia, the wood nymph who ran one of the denser parts of the Greatest, Darkest Forest and who loved toying with travelers a little too much.
The fox shook her head. Sinthia wasn’t exactly cruel, but she was vain and oversensitive—easily riled up by travelers or fellow fey who did not show “proper” respect. That she was involved in this couldn’t be a good sign.
The sixth smell... She frowned. It had to be the druidess the goblins were looking for.
She suddenly became aware of a seventh scent. One she knew quite well, and was heartened by. It was sour, and tangy. Fairies. She noticed several flying overhead, and gave a little yipe to alert them to her presence.
The fairies were some of the only fey in this land she genuinely liked and respected. Though, in fairness, many of them were not from this land. Fairies traveled with the wind high above the clouds. The three here paused, seeing her, and smiled brightly. One had wild hair and skin as black as night, another had violet hair and the dusky brown skin of one from the ice, and the third was as fair as a local.
“Hey!” the fair one hummed at her. She zoomed down to perch on Swish’s shoulder, her little breasts bouncing with her speed. “What’s up, Swish?”
Swish gave a little bark.
“No kidding! We were just heading there ourselves!”
“It’s really important,” the violet-haired fairy said. Her voice vibrated like someone was rapping on her back—though, in fact, it was from the constant motions created as she hovered above Swish’s head. “There’s a real problem here. We’re hoping we can help.”
Swish barked.
“Yeah?” The frizzy-haired one landed right on Swish’s bark (Swish fought the urge to sneeze). “Well, those bullies haven’t found her yet. We won’t screw with the truce, but we won’t leave her helpless for them, either.”
“And as for that hypnotist...” The violet-haired fairy cracked her knuckles. “I’d like to give him a piece of my mind. If that piece were sharp and made of metal. And I could put it in his mind.”
“We can’t risk losing anyone else,” the black-haired one said. “Lapis is still caught.”
“I hope she’s alright,” the fair one muttered. “If she’s not...”
Swish barked.
“I hope you’re right, Swish.” The fair one was the last to take to the air as they zoomed back on course, straight towards the camp. “I hope you’re right.”