SHIFTY CHARACTERS, CH. 05
Larya was drifting inside a cloud.
She stretched her legs. The white vapor swirled around her body, carrying her with it as it floated through the night sky. She giggled softly. It felt like she was swimming in soft, fluffy cotton. She knew she was dreaming, of course—she’d always been a lucid dreamer—but that didn’t make the cloud feel any less real.
She sank slowly through it, feeling the whiteness tickling her thighs and sides as she went. She was naked, but that was normal in her dreams, too. She ran her hand through the mist, marveling at how soft and bubbly it felt on her skin, and gave a low sigh.
Further off, another cloud lit up with sudden electric power She blinked, watching as lightning streaked through it towards her. I hope that’s not—
The lightning hit her.
Larya gasped, her hips bucking reflexively. Oh! Ohhhh.
The moment the lightning had struck Larya, a strange tingling feeling had washed over her whole body. The feeling had been... not unpleasant. In fact, it had been largely centralized in her breasts and between her legs. It had been very pleasant. She looked at the cloud, blinking again, trying to clear her vision.
The lightning came again, brighter this time. It struck her before she could even think to react.
Thunder rumbled as Larya let out a soft moan. “Oh,” she said dazedly. She felt like she needed to say something, but she just couldn’t think of what. It was as if the tingling had filled her loins with a fire, and now the fire’s smoke was inflating the rest of her like a balloon. As she had that thought, she felt her legs and arms going numb. “Oh,” she repeated.
The lightning struck again. She smiled, rubbing her legs together as the tingling suffused her body. It felt... nice. Really nice. It was—
Not a second later, the cloud flashed again and Larya was gyrating, bucking and moaning as the pleasure stole over her. She tried to cry out her bliss, but could manage nothing above a whisper. “Yes. Oh, yes. Please, more, more, more...”
As the flash hit again, her eyes rolled upwards into her head. She spasmed, giving a hoarse, low-pitched moan of pleasure. Lightning struck again, and she cooed and burbled, feeling any semblance of lucidity scattering. With every strike, the bliss grew. She wanted to buck, but she was totally paralyzed, helpless within the pleasureful cloud. She was numb everywhere. Everywhere except where it mattered.
Lightning struck again.
“Oh.” The pleasure was whitehot, blinding. The world was turning into mist, and she shook uncontrollably as the orgasm drew nearer and nearer.
Lightning struck again.
“Oh!” She managed to get a bit louder this time. She bucked and kicked, the sky going pink as she gasped from exertion.
Lightning struck again. And a split-second later, before she could even react, again. Thunder rumbled around her, near-deafening, as she arched her back to a near-impossible angle. OH!” Her voice finally broke the dream’s barrier. “Yes! Yes, oh, yes, PLEASE! More! Oh, love, love, l-love it, please—”
The dream was over.
Larya found herself staring up into two big soft lavender eyes. They were compound, like those of an insect, and about the size of her pinkie fingernail. They belonged to a tiny little hovering fairy with bronze skin, short black hair, and four pairs of gossamer wings, which...
… which...
… which Larya at this moment could not remember why she would ever want to look away from because they were so so pretty and she was just a mortal girl who just didn’t want to think about why she couldn’t look away from the pretty pretty wings. Yes. Good girl.
Larya suddenly gave a weak cry as lightning struck again. She couldn’t see it, nor hear the thunder, but she squirmed nonetheless with pleasure.
“Gooood,” chorused little vibrant voices all around her. Larya felt multiple shapes—tiny, gorgeous little women like the one above her—crawling over her nude upper body. She squirmed. She wasn’t normally too ticklish, but she’d spent the last day having her body hypersensitized by succubi, fey and one cruel hypnotist who she loved and adored and would forever serve because he was her Master and she was his hot little bimbo and—“Relaaaax,” the swarm whispered to her.
She squirmed even more as she felt the fairies skittering around. She wanted to sit up, to push them off of her, but those wings...
Larya had always thought mirrors were rather dull. Mirrors were simple, predictable. They showed you exactly what you expected, without fail, and when they didn’t it was a sign there was something extremely strange and probably dangerous going on. Usually involving a mirror daemon.
She knew now that she had been wrong. Mirrors were everything. Those beautiful, perfect wings beat as fast as hummingbird wings, casting shadows of color and light across Larya’s spellbound face. Her eyes were dazzled. Her mind was absorbed totally into the countless reflections, and she was helpless within them. In one glimpse, she saw one of her eyes, dull and glazed over, lost in rapture. That only turned her on more.
Slowly, she began to become aware of little tickling touches between her legs as the fairies moved down. She hesitated, then let out a whimper as she realized what was happening. The lavender-eyed fairy slowed her wingbeats for an instant, and Larya saw it all reflected, just for a second, in those glorious wings. And the sight was even more hypnotic than the lights.
She was being licked all around her cunt. Numerous tiny little fey women had gathered around and were near-covering her crotch, licking and tickling and stroking and humping her sensitive sex. She whimpered again, fidgeting. A few times, her hand would stray down, but one look from the lavender-eyed fairy stopped her every time.
“Shh,” a fairy whispered in her ear, tickling her inner lobe. “Shh. Be a good girl. Be a good bimbo.”
The word immediately set her at ease again. Yes. A good bimbo. Her Master would like that.
“Look at the pretty, pretty lights.”
Larya smiled vacantly, obediently, staring up at the pretty, pretty lights.
Her mouth opened, as a new sensation became known to her. “Oh,” she breathed.
She could feel fairies settling on her breasts. She squirmed and writhed, unable to stop from giggling as their tiny, ticklish little tongues lapped around her nipples, giving little nips that hurt no more than a minnow’s nibble. But there were so many of them.
“Feels good?” cooed the voice in Larya’s ear. The words were echoed in sensuous tones by the other fairies—one of which, Larya noticed, was clenching her legs around Larya’s nipple like an enormous sex toy.
Larya shook, giving another little titter from the sensations. She looked up at the colors. “Oh,” she repeated. The fairies giggled, a whispered cacophony of buzzing laughter.
“Ticklish,” teased the fairy.
“N-n-nnno!” But Larya’s quivering denial came too late. The fairies had begun running their hands over her breasts, flapping their shining wings rapidly against her belly. They crawled over her arms, covering the undersides with messy, tickling kisses.
And the vast majority of them went to town between her legs.
Larya thrashed and squealed as violently and as loudly as she could. It came out as a shiver and a squeak. The wings controlled her. The little fairies had mastered her before she’d even fully awoken, Larya realized. And they did not want her to be noisy.
“Shh.” Slender hands stroked her hair, adding only slightly to the unbearably subtle sensations running through Larya’s entire body. “Good girl. Wise girl. Give in to the power.”
“Wh... wha... ohhhh...” Larya quivered, powerless as a fairy pushed all the way into her. She felt hot little mouths going over her clit, sucking and licking at it lovingly. The pleasure was excruciating. Her eyes were wide and wet as she felt herself nearing a silent orgasm.
“Yessss.” The fairy giggled. “Can’t resist because it’s not in you. You’re so close, so close...”
“It is time for you to come home,” hummed a fairy in Larya’s other ear. “Find your calling. Find your way.”
Larya shook and wept with joy as the mouths doubled their efforts on her bounteous breasts, covering them with hot litle fey bodies. She would do anything these fairies commanded, if only they would—would—
“Come to us, bimbo,” sang the lavender-eyed fairy. “Come, come, COME!”
And with a tiny little squeak of pure bliss, Larya came.
Swish watched the young human woman get raptured by fairies with almost total impassivity. By fey standards.
That was to say, the fox girl from the Wild East had only two fingers in her pussy as she observed the strange rite. What were those creatures planning? It wasn’t like the fairies to go around taking people without consent. Especially when they were already being mind-raped by sinister hypnotists.
Swish’s three fox-like tails twitched behind her with excitement. Her equally fox-like ears twitched with annoyance. Fairies had reasons for everything. Sometimes she thought they bore more demon blood in their veins than even lust sprites, for there was an impartial cunning in their actions that was distinctly... un-fey.
Swish—also known as Suisshu—sighed softly. It was none of her business, of course, and she didn’t have time to risk her life on strangers’ behalves.
Her fingers tightened around the long katana she was wielding. She was far too busy risking her life to save someone she’d just met that day.
She frowned. When it was put like that, it felt a little bit silly. But it was different with Mier. Mier needed her. And Mier had a... a way. A sort of charisma Swish had never felt before.
Unlike most fey, foxes were very picky about who they fell in love with. But something about the doppelganger was simply intoxicating to her.
That was why she was staking out the campsite of two dangerous bounty hunters, their mind controlled nymph, and now their mind controlled... woman. Mier was tired, afraid. Swish hoped so desperately that doing this would make Mier happy again.
Hidden amid the shadows of the Greatest, Darkest Forest, Swish leaned against her tree and waited patiently.
By fey standards.
Swish yawned and stretched her legs as she felt the sunlight hitting herSHIT
The fox’s eyes opened wide. It was morning. She’d fallen asleep! She quickly shifted back from her fox form—she’d been having a particularly pleasant dream involving a poorly-guarded chicken coop—and sprang to her feet, looking about frantically.
The campfire was burning dully. The sun was beginning to peek over the canopy and settle on the floor, and Swish realized that had she slept much longer she would have surely been discovered.
She squinted. There was the young dark-haired woman. She’d been collared and tied to a post overnight, and was now lying on her back, rubbing her legs together. Her desperation was unmistakeable, but it was clear she’d been given orders.
As she watched, a man exited the further tent. He was a little short, though fit, with short black hair and dressed in plain, practical clothes. A large, notched iron scythe was strapped to his back, alongside a heavily patched haversack.
Swish squinted. Her eyesight wasn’t especially good, but there seemed to be a dark shape on his shoulder. Could that be a fairy? No doubt hypnotized. Her fingers tightened around the katana handle. Found you.
She watched, eyes narrowed to slits, as the man approached the prone woman. He glared down at her, but the woman’s eyes were shut. She seemed totally unaware of his existence, or anyone’s existence. Swish caught a fleeting glimpse of emotion on the man’s face. What was that? Guilt? Disgust? Whatever it had been, it was almost instantly replaced with anger. He turned away, muttering something Swish could just barely make out.
“Fucking hypnotist.”
Swish’s head tilted to one side. Her grip on the katana loosened.
So this wasn’t the hypnotist. More likely a servant or partner. It occurred to Swish that he might be another slave, but she quickly disregarded the notion. Hypnotism ran counter to most “stressful” emotions, aside from those deliberately instilled (sexual need, for instance, tended to get added in). Why would anybody hypnotize someone to be angry? Unless he was a frothman, but he didn’t really look the part.
She heard a rustling. From the other tent—the one the girl was penned right outside—emerged a tall, very delicate-looking woman with long, pointed ears. The nymph had long tresses of emerald-green hair hanging down well past her shoulders, complementing brilliant green eyes.
She was stark naked. Her tanned skin was slightly sweaty, Swish observed—more by smell than sight. She felt her cheeks burning as she took a deep breath of the nymph’s delicious musk.
This was Sinthia, the nymph who had clearly been hypnotized. Her eyes were dull, like the collared girl’s, but possessed an independent sparkle of cruel capriciousness as she looked upon the prone human woman.
“Having fun, bimbo?” she sang.
“Mm...” The ‘bimbo’ gave a whine, spreading her legs wide and giving the brainwashed nymph a perfect view of her shaven pussy.
Swish caught herself envying her fellow fey. With large, pert breasts, a perfect figure, and gorgeous flowing dark auburn hair, the captured human was... well, extremely enticing.
The Wild Eastern fey scolded herself. She’s enslaved, she thought angrily. You do her a grave disservice by looking at her in such a way.
But fey had their needs. Swish continued to watch, her guilt battling her arousal. The guilt was winning, but slowly. Slowly. Slowly enough that she had time to watch a little.
In the clearing, Sinthia leaned down, inspecting her captive. She giggled. “Are we a horny wittle bimbo?” she cooed.
“Yes!” The bimbo squirmed, reaching up and cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples with a soft desperation. She whimpered. “Yes, we are. Um. We is. No. Um. Um.”
“Stupid little bimbo,” Sinthia hissed. She leaned closer, and Swish had to strain to hear the next bit. “Lick.” The bimbo stiffened. “Lick.” The bimbo shivered. The nymph reached forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her up into a sitting position. “Lick, little wet bimbo.”
The bimbo stared at Sinthia’s cunt, which Suisshu could see. The bimbo’s mouth watered slightly. So did Suisshu’s.
Nymph juices were infamously dangerous. Most fey juices, semens and lactations possessed addictive properties, but nymphs’ were known to be among the worst of all. Like those of succubi, and a few specialized fey like Green Fairies, nymphs’ delicious fluids, once ingested, would enter a man or woman’s system and never, ever leave. Worse, it was contagious. Entire cities had fallen because one man had been allowed to escape a particularly sinister nymph, belly full of the sinful toxin, and begin infecting the people of the town.
To fey, the juices were simply an intoxicating delicacy, and nymphs did not part with them cheaply. Sinthia had heard of the sorts of ‘favors’ they demanded—periods of servitude so degrading only sex-crazed fools would ever agree. So, most fey. But to humans, the juices were... something else.
The bimbo surged up into the nymph’s cunt and began licking, moaning and gasping, covering her face with the scrumptious-smelling juices. Swish gave a miniscule whine of jealousy, her fingers slipping down into her own pussy as she watched. She knew that this was going to ruin the woman’s life, but all she could think about was that sinfully tempting smell, that look of pure joy on the bimbo’s face as she licked and sucked and moaned and screamed. She wanted that look on her own face.
At least, part of her did. She hadn’t had sex in forever.
Sinthia gasped as the bimbo grabbed her by the hips. Then she moaned, all pretense at smug superiority forgotten. She grabbed the human’s head and shoved it into her crotch, clutching it between her thighs. “Oh... bimbo... bimbo... bimbobimbobobmi...” Only the increasingly high-pitched squeals and grunts from beneath her showed any sign that what was clearly a triggerword was having any effect.
Swish watched, fascinated. The nymph was stumbling, barely on her feet. In moments, she would fall, and then no doubt this voracious slave would really go to work on her. Swish’s fingers worked in and out of her own cunt even as she struggled to clear her head. Once Sinthia was down, an opportunity would open up.
That musk was just too distracting. Swish needed to cum. Then she’d be able to think straight.
“Enjoying the show?” purred a smooth voice in Swish’s ear.
She froze.
Swish didn’t know a great deal about hypnotism. It was common enough in the Wild East that everyone had to be prepared for it—nagas and peacock fey were dangerous creatures, as were the countless snakelike fey that roamed the wilds—but she’d never had a talent for that slow, melodic tone.
But she knew the basics, albeit somewhat scattered. First: Never look directly at a hypnotist. This sat well with her, since it gave her an excuse to keep an eye on Sinthia. The nymph had just collapsed, screaming wordless cries of ecstasy as she spasmed on the ground.
“You seem to like watching them,” the smooth voice continued. “Perhaps you’d like even more to join them?”
If you only knew, she wanted to say. But the second rule, never concede a point, rang in her head.
She didn’t want to try to attack. Not yet. The whole camp would be alerted if she lashed out and missed, and she had a feeling the man with the scythe knew how to use it—to say nothing of the dangers of a nymph provoked. Besides, this hypnotist’s voice reeked of overconfidence. So instead she smiled brightly. “No, no, I just like to know what I face. It seems you do not keep very tight control over your slaves.”
The three-tail forced herself to pull her wet fingers out of her cunt. Third: Don’t get horny.
The voice sounded impressed. “Hm. I must say, I didn’t expect to meet such a clever little fox as you. I thought submission came easily for your kind?”
Suisshu rolled her eyes, reluctantly looking away from the rutting sex slaves. “Foxes, or easterners?”
“Sluts. And I actually keep very good control of mine. I just thought the wild one in the bushes might like something to watch while I take her.”
“You really should have put a knife to my throat.” Suisshu laughed. “It would be much more effective. Really.”
There was a pause. “Oh, my.” The hypnotist giggled. “I’m sorry, but... your accent. It’s too precious. If I can be honest with you, I’ve always wanted to brainwash an easterner.”
Suisshu laughed again, but she couldn’t conceal the edge this time. This disgusting creature was pissing her off in a major way. “Then allow me to be the first to deny you something you want.”
“Oh, I don’t think I will. My name’s Balabar, by the way.” The oily voice was trying to wriggle into her head, Swish could feel it, but she knew what to expect here. She could push it away. “Tell me, you adorable exotic slut, why have you come here?”
“I just stop by.” Swish’s fingers clenched again around the katana. Her ears gave her excellent hearing, and she was getting pretty sure he was right behind her. Just one clean swing was all she needed. “You are new here.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re being honest, slutty girl!” Balabar’s voice was almost singsong. “I think you wanted to hurt me. Kill me, even. Why would you want to do that?”
I really don’t, she thought, despite her efforts to focus. And she didn’t. She was sick of killing. That was why she’d left home, wasn’t it?
She banished the errant thought almost instantly, but she was left a bit off-balance when she answered. “I hear you are visiting a friend of mine.”
“Oh!” Balabar sounded delighted, and Suisshu cursed herself. You gave him an opening, you idiot! Rule Four: Do not tell him anything! “Well, you must care very deeply for her if you would dare risk becoming my cute little toy.”
Rule Five: If all else fails, get mad. And get him madder. She was almost sure he was within range now. She just had to keep him uncertain for a few seconds more—she was pretty sure the scytheman wouldn’t hear if she managed a one-hit kill. “You will never catch her,” Suisshu growled, her tails twitching furiously. “She is already left. Neither of us will ever see her again—and you go to die before you have chance to prove me wrong.”
There was a pause. “...my, my. Such devotion.”
Suisshu frowned. Balabar didn’t sound angry, or even that amused. He sounded... pitying.
“You do know, of course, how many she has loved over the years?” Balabar sighed. “She’s as whorish as any succubus, my delightful pet. You aren’t the first she’s gone down on.”
“My history is not clean, either.” Again, Swish cursed herself for giving up more information. He was starting to get to her, but she just wanted to shut that stupid slick voice up.
“Of course not, dearest little... why don’t I call you Suki? I think it fits you.”
“My name is—” She stopped herself just in time.
“Anyways, silly eastern girl, of course I know your dirty little past. You are a slut, remember? A slut’s past is always sexy and simple, just like her.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “In case you don’t know what that word means, let me clarify: It means you like... let’s call it ‘sucky-sucky’, my giggly, lusty pet. You like sucky-sucky very much, and—”
“I know what it means!” she hissed. Her fists clenched. She looked straight ahead, forcing herself not to look at Balabar. In the campsite, Sinthia seemed to be trying to get away now, but the human woman wasn’t letting up.
“Good girl!” he cooed. “It’s important word to know for you. So smart!”
That was it. Swish was done. She was just going to cut this bastard’s head off and wing it from there. Rule Five: End the conversation as soon as—
“But anyways, pet, I wasn’t talking about Mier’s past. I was talking about Mier. Mier personally. She’s had thousands of partners, darling, and plans to have thousands more, no doubt. What silly thoughts got into your little brain to make you think you’re any different to her?”
Swish’s grip on her katana loosened slightly. Despite all her anger telling her to strike, she hesitated.
Foxes were good at identifying lies. She’d believed Mier. But then... Mier hadn’t ever made any promises. And this man wasn’t lying, was he?
“Oh, how sad. You poor girl. You must be just off the boat, Suki. She’s using you, just like I’m going to use you.” No. False. It couldn’t be true. “At least I’m honest about it. Doppelgangers don’t mate for life, they mate for convenience and fun. She wants new experiences. She fucked the baron behind his wife’s back. That’s why we’re hunting her.”
Swish swallowed. She knew she was being played. But...
She’d been bluffing when she’d said Mier had already left. Hadn’t she? A vision entered her head: Mier waiting for her to go, to distract Balabar and his group... while she ran for it.
Mier had seemed so sincere. But...
“Doppelgangers live and breathe lies, Suki.”
“It’s not true,” she whispered.
“You know it is.”
The voice was smooth, convincing, but the words themselves...
Swish felt tears trickling down her cheeks.
Foxes like her preferred to mate for life, and they did not fall in love easily. She’d fallen for Mier in seconds. The doppelganger’s bizarre charisma had overwhelmed her—she’d been so lonely, so desperate for a friend...
“Oh, my poor little dear,” Balabar murmured. “My poor little lost lust sprite.”
Swish jerked to attention. “What?” Her cheeks went bright red, not that he could tell. Or maybe he could. “I’m not—”
“I’ve met lust sprites before. You’re so horny. Horny, horny. But no grasp on the language.”
Swish was bewildered, angry, and worst of all, off-kilter. But she couldn’t help but retort, “I am not—”
“Oh, you don’t know, you dumb little sprite. You forgot. Isn’t that what a lust sprite would do?”
Yes, she admitted inwardly, annoyed. “Yes, but I am—”
“Horny. Confused. You fell for a shapeshifting freak. You’re such a silly pet.”
“I—no, I did not!” Indignant, the fox spun to face him, raising her sword.
He smiled at her. And in the split second she hesitated, she caught a glimpse of the pretty spinning disc in his fingers. She saw her reflection flash by in it. Was it just her, or did her ears look a little like horns?
She’d fucked a lot of lust sprites. Why had she done that?
“You’re going to hurt yourself with that,” he said, chuckling. “What were you even going to do with it?”
“I will kill you!” she snarled. But at the back of her mind, a rational-sounding voice spoke up, its tone a low, steady drone. He’s right. I don’t even know what this thing is. Do I?
The pocket watch twirled.
It looks sharp.
So tired of killing...
... so tired of fighting...
“... so tired of resisting,” Balabar murmured. She snapped back into reality, realizing she’d spaced out. Her mouth was hanging open.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to wipe the pocket watch from her mind. But she kept seeing it. Kept seeing that reflection. “I am...” she growled, “... not so easy...”
“Me.”
“Me?” She barely kept her eyes from opening in confusion.
“You aren’t speaking right. You still think you’re a nymph.”
She frowned. “I do not!”
“Then what are you? A lust sprite? A horny... needy... slutty-wutty horny lust sprite?”
She heard herself give a little giggle. The image was still in her head. Horny. And I—I mean, they have horns.
“Yes. Isn’t it funny how confused you are? So funny.” His voice rambled on, melodious. Suki gave a little sigh. It was actually quite pleasant to listen to. She couldn’t remember why she hadn’t wanted to listen before. “You’re just so confused, and so wet, and you just want to touch yourself but you’re so dumb and horny you can’t remember how. You silly slutty sucky Suki.”
She giggled again at the rhyme—that was a rhyme, right?—but his words troubled her. “Stupid,” she muttered. “I do remember how.”
“Oh, do you?”
She heard Sinthia’s near-helpless moans in the background, mixed with the slobbery sound of the human slave’s licking. For a moment, she was almost afraid she actually wouldn’t be able to remember—boy, that would be embarrassing—but the noise helped her.
She shoved three fingers into her moist cunt, smiling triumphantly. She opened her eyes expectantly as she started to piston in and out, staring at Balabar’s cute face and imagining his big cock between her lips. She’d sure showed him!
No. Wait. She frowned, confused. This wasn’t right. She had to fight him. Had to help... Mier.
Memories started to return, along with the tears. Balabar gave a sad sigh. “It hurts you, I know,” he said softly, reaching forward. He took her hand and helped it along, masturbating her through the sorrow. “But you’re just a silly little lust sprite. You’ll forget aaaall about it soon enough.”
She knew, then, what was happening. Through the confusion, through her horniness, through the fog of the hypnosis, she saw what was happening to her. She was being offered a choice. And with her confusion, with that spinning watch catching the light, with her horniness—because she was so horny, so desperate, so fucking wet—it wasn’t a choice at all.
She found herself continuing to masturbate—almost managing to convince herself it was purely reflexive—as his hand crawled along her other arm. He peeled back her fingers from something cold and metal. She wasn’t sure what it was anymore. He leaned close, grinning at her. Nimble fingers ran through the soft, silky fur on one of her tails, and she gasped at the sensation. Betraying its owner, the tail wrapped around his hand. Eagerly. “How do you feel, Suki?”
“I...”
“Me.”
He gave her a wide, smug smirk. This was it. He’d picked out her greatest source of fury—the bigotry she’d faced since arriving on this continent, the snide looks, the rude remarks—and forced her here. To give it up. To humiliate her.
She felt the anger boiling in her, but every time it tried to rise, she thought of the pain of Mier’s betrayal. And every time she tried to hate Balabar, she thought of how good her fingers felt inside her. How good it would feel to suck him off. How blissful Sinthia was. And how good it had felt over those months to just be the lust sprites’ fucktoy. Constant pleasure flooded back to her as she remembered—kisses, licks, moans, gasps, screams, again and again... never have to think about pain...
Would it be so bad to be a lust sprite?
And the moment that thought came to her, he had won. She knew it. He saw the look of defeat—of hot, needy, desperate defeat—and he knew it, too. His smirk only widened.
Desperate, she tried to rally some last shreds of resistance, but she’d already started to break. It was already over. She felt the orgasm nearing.
She started to moan. He leaned close, kissing her neck, and her spare arm wrapped around her beloved Balabar. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear... At least, she assumed that was what they were! She giggled. She couldn’t remember, but she knew they were important because he was telling her them!
She was so lucky to have a master like him!
Suddenly, his hand shot down. It grabbed hers, pulling it out of her drooling pussy, and she whined, struggling feebly.“How do you feel?” he asked again.
“Oh... horny...” Suki the lust sprite trembled, rubbing her naked body against his clothed body, practically humping his knee. “Horny, horny. Me so horny!” For some reason, it felt amazing to say that. She giggled, not knowing why, but when something felt good it meant it was good to do. “Me so horny! Me so horny!”
He pulled her away from him and smiled at her. A beautiful, smug grin. He leaned close and kissed her roughly, possessively. “And what do you want?”
She stared blankly. “Um. Me not know! Um.”
“What do you want, Suki?” he cooed in her ear. “What do you want, Suki, you adorable horny little eastern slut?”
It was her name that made it clicked, and she started tittering as she realized the similarity. “Sucky!” she squealed, and she found this felt even better to say. “Sucky-sucky! Me so horny, me wanna sucky-sucky lots! Please, Master, let me sucky-sucky!”
He gave a cruel laugh, and to her it was the sweetest sound in the world. “Are you wetty?”
“Ooh, yes!” She beamed. “Me wetty-wetty! Super wetty-wetty! Please, Suki sucky? Fucky-sucky?”
He looked at her for a long moment, and she felt terrified he would say no.
Instead he reached down and began undoing his belt. Suki moaned with longing. She felt somethings behind her flicking frantically, but lust sprites didn’t have tails, so she was just being silly again! She rubbed against her master, anxiously awaiting him. But he took his sweet time.
At last, his trousers were down. She stared at his fully erect cock with utter longing. She fell to her knees. She would worship her master. She would worship his cock. His perfect, wonderful cock. She looked up at him with wide doe eyes. “Sucky-sucky?” she whimpered.
He considered it for a long moment.
“I suppose you may,” he said slowly. “But you’ll have to make it up to me later.”
Joy swelled in her breasts. “Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Me love you forever an’ ever an’ ever!” She leaned forward and kissed his cock reverently at the base with her big, plush lips. She gave it a little lick, then began kissing her way all the way to the head.
She slowly took it into her mouth, sucking—sucky-suckying, she thought, giggling—as she went. She heard him moan, and felt ultimate joy. She was pleasing her wonderful, perfect master!
“F-fuck,” he gasped, “you’re... so beautiful like this.”
She beamed. Master thought she was beautiful! That meant she was a good slut.
And so she sucked. And licked. And kissed. And sucked. She savored his wonderful cock like a delicious sweetmeat, moaning right along with him. She sank into her lust, embraced it, let it consume her. Almost of its own accord, her hand started masturbating again, and she came four times before he did. She bathed herself in plasure.
But the real pleasure came when he did. His manhood pulsed in her mouth, and she nearly collapsed from the wave of bliss that surged through her. It was heavenly. She had never experienced anything quite so... perfect.
Suki the lust sprite swallowed obediently when he told her to, and thanked him eagerly. And when he suggested she ‘thank’ him by sucky-suckying again... well, she thanked him extra for that.
Suki the lust sprite had never been happier in all her very short life.
“So you caught another,” Snatch muttered as Balabar returned. The hypnotist looked very disheveled—his suit had been slightly ripped, one of the buttons on his trousers had been lost, and his gait was that of someone very, very tired of standing.
Behind him pranced a petite eastern woman. Three fox-like tails twitched excitedly behind her, and a pair of orange fox ears rested upon her head. Brilliant spiky red hair hung around her shoulders, though it looked like until recently it had been more styled. That fit. Balabar seemed to hate his slaves showing too much pride in their appearance.
Snatch sat against a boulder right outside the camp, sharpening his battered scythe. Lapis, a tiny dark-skinned woman with enormous solid blue eyes and four mirror-like insect wings, sat on his shoulder. He glared at Balabar. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
“Extremely.” Balabar grinned. “I’ve captured three truly winning creatures in less than twenty-four hours. How many can you claim?”
Snatch spat to the side. “Thought we agreed that Larya was off-limits. You have a lot of nerve.”
“Hey, this one,” Balabar gestured to the beaming fox-girl, “was out to kill us. I did us a favor.”
He didn’t say anything about Larya. Part of Snatch wanted to push that issue. Part of Snatch knew he needed to push that issue. Part of Snatch understood that if he didn’t push the issue now, it would send him down a path he might not like.
Snatch didn’t push it.
“Anyways, I have bad news,” Balabar said. “It sounds like our quarry has fled the forest.”
Snatch froze. He looked up, eyes bulging. “The doppelganger is gone?”
“Afraid so.” The hypnotist coughed. “We can give chase, but... well, it’s back to square one.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Snatch buried his face in his hands. “You goddamn idiot; now we’ve gotta start all over! If we’d left before now—”
“Oh, please.” Balabar rolled his eyes. “Don’t blame me for this. You walk slower than a two-legged elephant. If anyone’s at fault, it’s—hey, where are you going?”
Snatch had risen to his feet. “I’m going for a walk, asshole.” He moved through the camp briskly. As he went, Larya—presently occupied fingering Sinthia—looked up at him, blinking. Her eyes were glazed over with desire, face sticky with fey juices.
He did not dare meet her gaze.
Mier sat alone in her cave, thinking bigger thoughts than she’d dared to try out in years.
Currently, the shapeshifter’s face was totally blank. Literally—aside from two enormous silver eyes, her face was as smooth as porcelain. She leaned back against the cave wall, staring into the dying embers.
Everything had gone so wrong so fast.
Baron Bisem had betrayed her. The proud, stupid man had decided she was too much for him and sold her to eight-legged flesh peddlers. The cruelties she’d faced for the several weeks spent as a slave of the stars had been nightmarish, but they had paled before the realization she’d undergone the first day.
And she’d gone for revenge. Like a stupid idiot. She’d thought herself a grownup, a worldly traveler. But she wasn’t any of those things. She was a stupid child. She’d fallen into the oldest failure a mortal woman could make, and now she’d sentenced yet more innocents to death.
Suisshu was going to die for her. Or, worse, get her mind split open and rewritten. Mier realized this. She’d realized it when the fox-girl had left. Even before then. And she hadn’t said a word.
Mier had never hated herself so much in her life. Tears were not reflexive for doppelgangers, but she consciously shed them now. It felt good. It felt more real than anything else she’d ever done in her entire, pointless life. She buried her face in her hands, whimpering.
Suisshu was going to die for her. And Mier was too afraid—for herself, for the last speck of agency she had left—to do anything about it. She looked down at her belly. The wound from Bisem had been from her own knife, and she had deliberately poisoned the blade without bringing the antidote with her. She’d wanted to give him a slow death.
Well, she was reaping what she’d sown now. And maybe that would be alright if it was just her.
Through her fingers, she stared into the embers. Suisshu, the fox-girl who hungered for new things. The fox-girl who was so infatuated with a stranger she would put her life and mind on the line for her, would return to the business she hated most for her.
Mier lifted her face up, lowering her hands. There were no easy answers here. There was no right or wrong path that she could see.
She’d never been very good at that sort of thing, anyways.
She looked back at the slowly dying embers and decided to take the brighter path.