INTREPID PAWNS, CHAPTER 10
“Kentri,” Yathi whispered, her eyes widening. “I... I d-didn’t realize...”
“Aw.” Kentri tutted, shaking her head ruefully. “Poor human didn’t realize I’d be back so soon! But I could never leave behind you, Yathi.” She giggled. “We’ve become very fond of you. And weren’t you so very fond of us?”
She idly licked her finger, her expression smoldering. It was almost comical how easily Yathi felt herself melting for that.
Yathi was still naked. Kentri’s eyes ran over her like flowing honey, and it was as though Yathi could feel it coursing over her whole body. Yathi shook with desire. She had no weapons. No knives. Nothing but the familiar craving to drop to her knees and beg to lick. And Kentri hadn’t even started her wings buzzing yet.
Kentri giggled, giving a long sigh. “Oh, Yathi, Yathi, Yathi. Whatever shall we do with you, sweetie? We’re just gonna have to make you nice and comfortable on the way back to the hive. It’ll be a long, sweet day, but then it’ll get even sweeter. I promise.” She batted her eyelashes.
With shaking fingers, Yathi reached down to the ground, as if going to kneel. Her fingers wrapped around a rock. If she could get in just one lucky throw, before Kentri could think to fully entrance her...
“It’s gonna be such a funtrip, too. I bet you’re looking forward to it already!” Kentri smirked, putting a finger to those golden-painted beestung lips. “You’re all ready to get all sweet and yummy for our queen, aren’t you?”
Yathi’s fingers tightened. Slowly, she brought back the stone to throw, realizing that Kentri was distracted—even as she cooed mind-melting bliss towards Yathi, she was glancing up, looking around her...
“Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” She giggled, and Yathi realized she was looking up at Trys, clinging desperately to the rope. Brist was right above her, crystals already swirling around his head. “You’ve met our queen. You know how good that feels.”
There was a pause.
“Trys?” Yathi heard Brist say. “Trys, keep climbing!”
Trys bit her lip and took one more step down. Yathi brought her arm back to throw.
A drop of honey landed on her bare shoulder.
Yathi froze. Slowly, she looked up, and stared straight at Trys. Trys was biting her lip.
Her pussy was dripping.
Unthinking, unresisting, Yathi licked her shoulder. Pleasure filled her with relief. Her fingers trembled.
And then Kentri’s eyes were back on her, and the Thriae smiled. “Silly mortals,” she said sweetly. She wagged her finger at the stone in Yathi’s hand. “Lucky for you your yummy friend is just dripping with excitement, huh?”
Still fifteen feet up, Trys leaped, sword raised in a silent strike.
Kentri’s wings started to vibrate. A sweet, unbearable hum filled the air.
Yathi’s mind immediately dissolved into buzzing, and she fell to her knees. The stone slipped from her fingers as she writhed helplessly.
Trys landed in a heap in the bushes in front of Kentri, and Yathi realized she was already furiously masturbating. Her eyes were wild. Perhaps, if she’d been able to call up those mental exercises—but the brief time in the pitcher plant had sent Trys off-kilter. That was Yathi’s fault.
“There we go!” Kentri cooed. The commander swayed forward, smiling down at the squealing Trys as Trys writhed and twisted on the ground. She planted a foot delicately on Trys’s hand, forcing her to drop the sword, and picked the sword up. She tossed it nonchalantly into the bushes.
Trys stared at her with wide eyes. Yathi stared, too, but her vision was hazy, blurred, as if through molten glass. Her lower lip quivered as a moan started to slip out.
Her whole head felt buzzy. Fuzzy. She giggled, then put a hand to her mouth, whimpering. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t fight.
Kentri turned back and smiled at her, radiant, angelic. Yathi’s head tilted as her lips parted in wonder. She longed to obey this wondrous creature, to let Kentri draw her close and have her lick the Thriae out, suckle at her teat, kiss her. Anything. Whatever Kentri wanted.
Kentri glanced up again and gave a little giggle. “Aw!” She sighed. “Still one holding out?”
Yathi looked up. Brist clung to the rope. His eyes were screwed shut, and the crystals that had been spinning around his head now warped and spiked, a visual representation of his mind’s desperate struggle.
“Are you too far away?” the Thriae sang, taking to the air. Her wings hummed endlessly as she flew closer to Brist, who let out a slight whimper. “or... Have you not had enough honey yet, sweet boy?”
“Not enough honey, Mistress!” sang another voice, and the catgirl emerged, climbing down the rope as well—headfirst. Her eyes shown with adoration lost to the buzzing. Gods, she looked so happy...
“Is that sooo?” Kentri cooed. She cupped his chin. His eyes opened.
Brist’s fingers went slack. Luckily, Kentri was there to catch him, to cradle him in her arms.
She carried him down, laughing wickedly, kissing him again and again right on the lips. With every kiss, his struggles grew weaker. His eyes grew duller. His smile grew sweeter.
By the time they reached the ground, he was beaming every bit as widely as Trys and Yathi, lost in her eyes as she slowly guided him to stroke himself.
“Gooood toys,” Kentri purred, as Mew fell weakly to the ground, whimpering at Kentri’s feet. She smiled down at the catgirl, then at the captive mage in her arms, and gave him another kiss. “Gooood toys. So nice to be obedient, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes, Mistress,” Yathi whimpered. The others followed suit. “Oh, yes, Mistress, please. Please let us submit.”
Kentri dropped Brist to the ground, where he and Mew almost mindlessly wrapped around each other and started kissing—Mew filling him with her own traces of honey, trying to pull his pants down to slip him inside her...
Yathi and Trys lay on the ground, stroking themselves. Brist and Mew were fucking, too dumb and horny to even fully undress.
Kentri put her hands on her wide hips, smirking down at them.
“See?” She giggled. “Like, isn’t it so easy to just submit to a smart, sexy fey? You’re just so dumb, and it feels so good...”
“Hey, Kentri. I wanna submit, too.”
Kentri whirled around as a gray blur shot out of the brush. She let out a horrible screech. The buzz collapsed into broken static.
And then there was red.
Ia stood there, flicking her sword about as Kentri fell back, clutching at her side. “I wanna submit ‘three inches of sharp steel’ for your consideration.” The knight batted her eyelashes. “I hope this submission will be—”
Kentri took off into the air, wings buzzing now with no order, no soothing hum, just a frantic speed. Ia snarled and hurled the sword after, but too late—it only clattered against a tree trunk and fell back to the ground.
Ia didn’t even hesitate. She turned from the retreating fey and reached down, grasping Yathi’s hand. “Time to go,” she said, yanking her to her feet.
Brist was rising, too, clutching at his head as he disentangled himself from a clearly reluctant Mew. He was spitting. “Ia, you’re—”
“Go. Time to go.” Ia was pulling Yathi away. “Now. No time.”
“Ia, wait!” Brist was still helping Trys to her feet, Yathi saw, as she numbly followed Ia’s footsteps.
“No. We gotta go. We gotta go now.” Ia spared him a desperate glance. “They’re coming.”
High-pitched giggles suddenly filled the air.
Kentri bit her lip, her breaths coming in wet and shallow. Damn it, she’d forgotten how much getting stabbed could hurt. It had been too long. Not long enough. Every breath, every movement, every slight twitch sent ripples of fire through her body.
She clung to the branch she’d fluttered to, clutching at the wound in her side. This. They would pay for this. If she survived, they’d pay for this. That wicked little homunculus would pay dearly indeed.
“Kentri!” said a concerned voice. Kentri managed to look up, gasping at the pain this caused.
The catgirls had arrived. They clung to every branch, some on the branch with her, some above her, some hanging onto nearby trees. She recognized most of them—many of these catgirls Kentri had personally suckled into addiction. They blinked wide-eyed at her.
“Are you okay?” whispered one that Kentri recognized as Elly—the one with the shoddy mind control magic. She always melted so eagerly for Kentri. “That looks bad!”
“It is bad,” Kentri growled. “Please, I need healing. Do any of you have a... a potion?”
They exchanged looks, then shook their heads at her.
“I have some healing magic,” piped up one, a brunette by the name of... Minty, wasn’t it?
“Ugh... fine, yes, please!” Kentri shuddered. “J-Just make it quick!”
“Okay!” The brunette climbed over next to her and picked Kentri up, bringing Kentri head into her lap.
Kentri breathed in the catgirl’s thick, musky scent. There was a hint of honey to it, and despite it all, Kentri smiled. These catgirls were such sweet things, really. So easy, when it came down to it. Each and every one of these catgirls was a Stage One addict, barely held on the precipice of total collapse into obedience by patchwork substitutes. Someday, they would start to get reckless, and she would be able to start bringing them back to the Hive. One by one, they would be hers.
But for now, Kentri whimpered needily and allowed Minty to feel in control. She needed help now. She needed to live to make these catgirls kneel.
“Healing comes from in the mind, remember,” Minty said softly, stroking Kentri’s hair. “So you’ve gotta...”
“I know, I know.” Kentri bit her lip against the pain, though she could already feel Minty’s innate catgirl magic causing the pain to become slighter, more manageable with every stroke. She consciously relaxed her willpower. “J-Just make it quick. Please.”
Minty took in a deep breath.
And let out a long, heavy sigh.
Kentri felt the wound start to tingle. A pleasant buzzing entered her mind—a buzzing that spread gradually through her whole body. The distant pain began to fade. Oh. Oh, Minty was good at her job. Kentri smiled in relief, feeling the wound sealing shut.
“Th-Thanks,” she slurred, driven to graciousness by the heat of the moment. “N-Now...”
She tried to push herself off of Minty.
Her arms wouldn’t obey her.
There was a pause. Kentri realized the buzzing in her mind hadn’t gone away quite yet.
“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Minty, and Kentri could hear the smile. “Aren’t you gonna get up?”
Kentri’s eyes narrowed. Whatever you do to me will be like heaven compared to what I do to you later, she wanted to say.
Instead, she heard herself giggle. “Don’t wanna!” she bubbled.
Her eyes widened.
The catgirls around started giggling slightly, sounding a little nervous—as if unsure how thoroughly Kentri was under right now.
Kentri could feel it now. The little strands, tickling her nerves just right to... to...
“That’s right, sweetie,” Minty whispered, as Kentri felt herself being picked up, being carried downward. She felt soft fabric on all sides as they descended into a druid-crafted nest. She also felt an increasing number of mischievous hands. “You don’t wanna! You wanna stay here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kentri whined, her ass wriggling. “Wanna stay! Fuck! Fuck!”
The catgirls were tittering in glee now, the nervousness gone as it became clear how solidly Kentri was under Minty’s control.
“I bet you do!” Minty said, continuing to stroke Kentri’s hair.
“Minty,” said a redhead, eyes wide, “she kinda seems like she wants us to fuck her brains out!”
The words sent ripples of pleasure through Kentri. “Ooh, yeah,” she moaned, “wanna... wanna...”
She realized she wasn’t being forced to say anything and shut her mouth with a whimper. She went crimson as the catgirls exchanged knowing grins.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Minty cooed in her ear. “I’m in charge here. You’re gonna love this.”
Vaguely, Kentri remembered that Minty and her redheaded mate were the catgirls obsessed with pleasure torture—making their victims cum over and over again until they couldn’t see straight, much less think straight.
Her pussy twinged.
“That’s riiiight, puppy,” Minty sang, fingers crawling down Kentri’s body as she squirmed helplessly, “heeere comes the—”
“Hey, girls.”
Minty froze mid-pet, her fingers hovering over Kentri’s hips.
Kentri managed to look up. Tsimpi hovered in the air beside the nest. The blonde goddess smirked, as a familiar buzzing filled the air. “Are we all playing nice?” she cooed.
Minty trembled, biting her lip. “Nnn... n-no fair...”
But already, her hands were falling back to her sides. Most of the catgirls were more clearly resisting—several had their feline ears twitching, using their sensory magic to drop or weaken their hearing. A couple, like Minty, were falling fully under. And one or two were visibly struggling, even as that delightful glaze slowly entered their eyes.
Tsimpi landed on the nest and sat down on one of the catgirls who’d just collapsed to the soft floor, mewling softly. She smirked down at Kentri. “Sorry I’m late, captain. And sorry to interrupt—I know you were just about to make these little kittens submit to your will.”
“Mm.” Kentri nodded eagerly, intense relief flooding her. She’d had no idea how far the catgirls were going to go, but she doubted she would have liked it.
Or she would have liked it far, far more than she’d have liked. She kind of liked the sound of that.
“Naughty kittens.” Tsimpi tsk’d, looking around her. The catgirls who hadn’t managed to block their hearing were now either on the floor masturbating, on their knees staring up at Tsimpi in worshipful attention, or just standing there, watching in slack-jawed wonder. The rest looked merely cross. She turned back to Kentri, dropping onto her knees. Her wings stopped buzzing. “Let’s get you out of here, shall we, Fearless Leader?” she whispered.
Kentri’s lips quivered, and she nodded. “Let’s have some fun first, though!” she heard herself say, giggling.
Wait.
Her eyes widened. Had she... had she just said that?
Tsimpi seemed a little surprised, too. But there was now a different shape to her smile.
Oh, fuck.
Tsimpi’s eyes seemed to glimmer with delight as she ran a hand over Kentri’s breasts, raising one eyebrow. “Why, commander,” she purred, gold-painted lips curving upwards, “did I hear you right?”
Kentri squirmed. “Uh-huh!” She giggled again, and the delight in her adoring stare felt... almost real. Like she was convincing herself. “I wanna... wanna...”
“Commander,” Tsimpi said sweetly, “it sounds like you’re commanding me to do something for you.” She gestured, and Kentri’s breath caught in her throat as she saw Minty crawling over to rest her head between Kentri’s legs. The catgirl looked up at her, her eyes heavy-lidded, lost to Tsimpi’s control, and licked her lips. “But what could it be?”
“Fuck me!” Kentri squealed. “F-Fuck me!”
More catgirls were surrounding her, now—not just the ones who were following Tsimpi orders. They giggled down at her, their captive Thriae bimbo.
The thought almost made Kentri cum right there as she felt Minty’s hot breath graze her clit.
Tsimpi beamed, leaning in close. Very close. “You’re so clever, wise leader,” she cooed in Kentri’s ear. “Pretending to be a helpless bimbo so they’ll all suck and lick and kiss you!” Her fingertips grazed Kentri’s lips, and Kentri’s found herself trying to suck on the fingertips, to no avail (but to a lot of giggling from those around her). “We’ll have them addicted to you in no time. Why, I’ll bet every needy pussy in the forest will be kept busy by you! A brilliant plan. Ooh, such a smart commander.”
“Nuh-uh!” Kentri’s sang, and her tone of voice made her whimper with delight. Or maybe that was the two catgirls descending to either side of her, wrapping themselves around her body, mouths moving towards her nipples with panting need. “I’m dumb! A dumb, happy bimbo!”
“Well...” Tsimpi winked. “Far be it from me to argue with a commanding officer! Hee!”
And the catgirls started to lick. Their rough, catlike tongues lapped over Kentri’s nipples roughly, lapping up the sweet honey as it started to trickle out. Down below, Minty was a little bit more careful, sweetly kissing and gently touching her tongue over Kentri’s throbbing clit. They licked her sides, tickled her underarms, and kissed her face. Kentri was bathed in their tongues, their kisses, their giggling praise and their tickling fingers.
Kentri started to squeal in pleasure, writhing, clutching the catgirls to her breasts as they started to lick faster. She panted, whined, started up helplessly at Tsimpi’s wicked grin. The pleasure was unbearable, but she’d had worse. She bit her lip, struggling to hold in the screams, to keep some dignity in front of—
“And don’t forget to sensitize her, girls!” Tsimpi cooed.
“Ooh, good idea!”
And Kentri’s head started to tingle.
Her mind went pink with pleasure, and she started to scream.
“There’s a good girl,” the Thriae cooed, petting their pets’ hair. “Aw, there we go. Good girl!”
There were two of them and four hamadryads.
Not a problem—there was plenty to drink for everyone.
The Thriae giggled, clutching the hamadryads to their bosoms, and watched fondly as the honey fey in turn sent themselves into sweet, sweet addiction.
The honeysuckle hamadryads had long white hair, and pale yellow-green eyes in contrast to the Thriae’s burnt amber. They wore long, flowing green dresses, and a sweet, floral smell hung around them.
But their pheromones were currently being drowned amid the cloying scent of the Thriae.
Honeysuckle hamadryads had weak wills, and were even weaker for sweet things. Usually this just meant they lived in clusters, keeping each other endlessly happy with their own kisses.
But sometimes a cupid or Thriae would come along, or a catgirl who knew how to enhance the hamadryads’ taste buds just enough to overwhelm them. And then the hamadryads would keep someone else happy for a while.
The Thriae smiled smugly, even as each savored the exquisite sensation of being nursed by two beautiful women. It had been easy to make these ladies submit. The catgirls had them wrapped around their fingers, of course, but catgirl toying was no comparison to a Thriae’s unbearable sugary toxins. The hamadryads had been lost the second they’d laid eyes upon their new Mistresses.
And now, thanks to their captain’s plan, the patrol wouldn’t just be able to capture the humans. They would finally have these rebellious catgirls under their thumb for good.
The Thriae were so delighted with themselves, and with their newest slaves, that they didn’t even notice the footsteps behind them. Nor did they notice the glowing crystals rising around them. They lounged back into the honeysuckle vines, enjoying the overlapping sweet smells, the way the vines gently, flirtatiously tickled their arms and legs.
Then they started to realize that they couldn’t move.
At first, nothing happened, and Yathi wondered if Brist’s magic had failed him. He certainly hadn’t used a lot of it this journey. The glow surrounding the fey was very pretty, but didn’t seem to have any immediate effect.
Then the Thriae started to whine. They continued to clutch the hamadryads to their chests—for they could not move their hands away—but their eyes were widening in realization. They could not speak, could not buzz their wings, could not even giggle.
Brist’s magic had completely paralyzed them.
“How long can you keep that up?” Trys asked quietly.
Brist hovered next to the two of them, eyes glowing with the intensity of his concentration. Three shining opal-like gems swirled around his head, connected around his neck by little silver chains. “N-Not... long...” he panted. “M-Mountain tears... w-weak battery...”
“Right. Ia, didn’t we see a vine trap on the way here?”
Ia stepped up, cracked her knuckles and grinned. “You know, that sounds about right. Good place to keep those two, I’d say.” She raised an eyebrow at Trys and Yathi. “But, uh, the hamadryads are gonna get... noisy.”
“Not much we can do about that.” Trys’s eyes narrowed. “Unless we can find something else for them to...”
She trailed off.
Her face went red.
The hamadryads didn’t even seem to notice. Switching from one breast to another was a simple shift, and if they noticed that Trys and Yathi were less honey-rich than true Thriae, they didn’t express it. Their eyes were closed in bliss at this point.
Yathi did notice, though, and she bit her lip to hold in a cry as the pretty silver-haired women locked their impossibly soft, plump lips on her nipples and started greedily suckling.
She was even more caught off-guard when she started to lactate, a slow stream of honeyed juices trickling from her into those hungry mouths. The sensation was...
“Oh, f-fuck,” she whispered under her breath.
Her cheeks colored as she saw everyone staring at her. Oh, what a sight she must be, naked and sinking to the ground with two silver-haired beauties clinging to her like she was the only water source in a vast desert.
She was getting wet thinking about it.
They all quickly looked away, except Trys, who seemed to be having trouble adjusting to her own pair of hamadryads, and Mew, who just beamed at her and stroked herself. Yathi stared helplessly into Trys’s eyes, then into Mew’s eyes, as she clutched the hamadryads to herself, her chest heaving, her lips quivering. She looked down and saw the eager bliss in her sucklers’ eyes. It was all she could do to hold in a whine.
“That’s right,” Mew purred, and Yathi had a moment of panic before she remembered that this was part of the plan, and not Mew brainwashing her while she was—while she was feeling so, so good. “There’s a good girl. You like that?”
The hamadryads moaned in agreement. Yes, their eyes said, as they squinted up at Yathi, they liked it very much.
Mew giggled, rocking slightly on her fingers. “Uh-huuuh. You like that. Naughty girls.”
The hamadryads whined, nestling closer against Yathi. Yathi held them to her, biting her lip to hold in her cries. Mew wasn’t here to screw with her mind. She needed to tune Mew’s words out. Mew was just gonna get the bimbos nice... and obeeedient...
But not her. Mew was just brainwashing the hamadryads. Yathi was safe.
“You like suckling your hot little honeycow, don’t you?” Mew cooed.
Yathi’s breath caught in her throat as the hamadryads whimpered the affirmative. She stared plaintively into Mew’s bright honeyed eyes. Matching her own. Oh, so pretty...
Mew giggled at Yathi’s expression. “That’s right,” she whispered, “of course you do. You make your hot little honeycow feel so good. She loooves being suckled. Wants someone suckling her all the time. Such a slutty little honeycow.”
“M-Mew—” Nearby, Trys gasped, as her eyes rolled back into her head in pleasure.
Brist and Ia were still off dealing with the Thriae, Yathi realized. For this next minute or so, they were helpless.
But Mew couldn’t do anything lasting in a minute... could she?
“So you’re gonna do what I tell you,” Mew said sweetly. “Okay, sucklies?”
The hamadryads moaned loudly, the moans interspersed with wet sucking sounds that made Yathi wet. Oh, it was like they were devouring her. And it felt so, so good!
“First of all,” Mew said slyly, “your honeycows are being very, very nice to you. So why don’t you try to pay them back in some way?”
“Mew!” Yathi squeaked. “Mew!”
Mew beamed. “Aw, listen to that honeycow. She thinks she’s a kitty!”
Yathi glared.
Mew winked. “Aw, don’t make that face at me, honeycow. We’ll have you mooing soon enough.”
Yathi tried to maintain the glare, but as she felt the hamadryad’s fingers dip between her legs, it melted quickly into a glazed smile. She couldn’t help it. It was like they knew just how to touch her—and of course they did, honeysuckle hamadryads were masters of pleasing others to earn their sweets, but oh gods did their fingers feel nice trading off on rubbing her clit...
“Mew again, honeycow,” Mew whispered, and Yathi realized the catgirl had moved very close, was licking her lips in excitement. She hovered above, her mouth opening slightly for a kiss, and Yathi remembered how strong the smell of honey must be right now, how needy Mew had to be amidst all of this...
“Mew for me, honeycow,” Mew cooed, tickling a finger along Yathi’s lips. Helplessly, Yathi’s lips parted...
“Hey, Mew, what gives?” Ia came strolling back, Brist by her side looking winded. “We’re s’posed to be getting the hamadryads on our team, not fooling around.”
“Right!” Mew gave a nervous giggle, recoiling. She turned back to the four hamadryads and resumed her chanting, thoughtfully omitting ‘honeycow’ from her mantras this time.
Yathi wanted to speak, wanted to tell Brist and Ia that Mew was... was clearly trying to condition her for something. And who knew what?
But all that came out when she tried to speak were little whines and babbling, and that just made Ia and Brist flush and avert their gaze.
Surely Trys would speak up. But Trys’s eyes were heavy-lidded, too, and Yathi realized the warrior had already started bouncing slightly in place, giving little grunts to encourage the suckling to continue. Yathi stared into Trys’s eyes and was amazed to realize she was even more lost than Yathi. Then again, she’d always had larger breasts. Maybe she had more experience being suckled. Maybe she craved it more. Or had learned to crave it more.
Yathi wondered, looking at the expressions of bliss on her hamadryads’ faces, if Trys would mind...
She quickly banished the thought.
As Mew continued chanting, and the hamadryads rapidly yielded everything they had to her, Ia and Brist began collecting the materials they needed. The flowers willingly relinquished their nectar, meaning all the pair of knights had to do was walk around with the heavy iron pot and collect it.
“Alright, guys,” Brist said, still averting his gaze, “we’ll, um, be right back. This shouldn’t take long. I hope.”
“Got it!” Mew said brightly. “Good luck! Let us know when you’re done!”
Her voice was very chipper.
A little too chipper.
And as Brist and Ia made their departure, the druidess turned back to Yathi with a smoldering look. Yathi’s mind sloshed at that sly cheshirebeast grin.
“Soooo, sweet little honeycow,” Mew cooed, leaning in again, her golden eyes glimmering with glee. “Where were we?”
“How’s the fire coming?”
“Um. Great.” Brist swallowed, struggling with the flint and steel. He tried not to fumble too much. He fumbled anyway.
Ia cocked her head. “Can’tcha just use your magic?”
“I lost my sunstones back at the, um, clearing. It’s hard to create fire with other gems.”
“Huh. Lame.” Ia threw the last ingredient into the pot and swung it back around towards his pile of tinder. “Well, you’d better hurry. This’ll take a while to boil, and the cats could get here any second now.”
“I know.” Brist gritted his teeth.
She made a popping sound with her mouth. “Well... can you know it and then do it fast?”
“Ia!” He looking up, scowling. “Can you—can you stop acting like everything’s back to normal? I’m not in the mood to be heckled at this time!”
Ia blinked. She stared at him for a moment.
“You talk so stupid, you know.” She leaned against a tree trunk. Brist almost snapped at the words, except that her tone was... rather mild, really. Soft, almost. “’At this time’. You talk like a clerk’s notes.”
“This is called proper diction, Ia.”
“Nah, it’s called pretentious. You think you’re smarter than anyone else ’cause you use ‘proper’ grammar?”
“No.” Brist finally sent some sparks flying, and he hurriedly blew up them, silently imploring the moss to burn. “I’m not smarter than anyone. All the... the humiliations I’ve been through today? I’m not smarter than anyone.”
“Huh. Okay.” Ia actually sounded mollified by this. “Good. I wanted to be clear on that.” She watched silently. He glanced back, seeing the growing flames dancing in her dark eyes. “You weren’t wrong, y’know.”
“What about?” Brist concentrated very intently on the fire, and on not looking at those dark eyes, which... almost looked pretty, when not matched by a shit-eating grin.
“Just... things. I wasn’t very good in this team. Mostly made things worse.” He heard her blow out a sigh. “I don’t like being paired with people I don’t know. People kept telling me what to do. Used to being paired with other mead-immune soldiers, and to be honest, we all kinda just fuck like bunnies until a Thriae shows up.” She giggled. “This team was different. Messy.”
“Okino was an idiot.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he was. But that’s what you get when a soldier tries to make an adventuring party. All the mechanics, but none of the heart. A scout, a warrior, a mage, a wild card—we completed each other’s skillsets, but not our personalities, yknow?” Ia snorted. “I tried to tell ’im, but of course, he wouldn’t listen. That’s why he’s a honeypot now.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Brist watched the flames rise. “I, um, think I got it.”
“Great! Great job, Brist.” Ia clapped him on the shoulder. “Then let’s—”
They both glanced back, hearing a long, drawn-out, “Moooo!”
“Oops,” they said in unison, and started running.
This was the best and worst day of Mew’s life.
“There’s a good honeycow!” she cooed, rewarding the humiliated Yathi with a kiss. The taste of honey sparkled on her tongue, and her mind sparkled with it. She moaned into the kiss, barely able to force herself to pull away.
Best because she had finally found toys. Humans held honey better than catgirls—they fell victim to it a bit easier, and the honey they started to give was far, far sweeter than that of an addicted catgirl. Mew finally had not one, but two humans who she could drink from, a sweet alternative to surrendering to the Thriae.
Much as she longed to submit to the Thriae.
“Moo!” Yathi cried, eyes wide, her cheeks as crimson as a sunset. Gods, she was so beautiful. Mew couldn’t explain how it made her feel, but the second she’d seen Yathi, something had tingled in her mind, and she had never seen anyone as hot as Yathi—even though Yathi had short black hair, and Mew preferred blondes, even though she was nothing but rude in her dealings, even though Mew had already fallen in love with Trys. “Mooo!”
“That’s right!” Mew said sweetly, licking her lips of the remaining honey as she watched Yathi buck and moan, lost to the hamadryad’s fingers, lost to their wonderful suckling. Lost to Mew’s words, her praise, her kisses. Lost to her own lust, making her such a good girl, such an easy girl to break and melt and kiss the mind away. “And you two just loooove being suckled.” She bounced excitedly, biting her lip. “Why, if a cute girl ever asked to suckle you, you’d baaasically just, like, lose it, and let her suckle you until she was nice and full!”
Worst because she couldn’t suckle. Couldn’t lick. She had to restrain herself to kisses, at least for now. She couldn’t drink her fill of the honey, no matter how good it would feel to just shove one of the hamadryads out of the way and suckle herself into a sweetened stupor. And that... that was hell. Wonderful, sugary hell.
Hearing a little whine, she turned around, beaming at Trys. Mustn’t forget darling, wonderful Trys. She leaned in, planting a sweet little kiss on Trys’s lips, admiring Trys’s wide, begging eyes. “Gooood honeycow,” she cooed, as Trys panted, clutched her own two greedy beauties to her. “You loooove this. You loooove—”
“Wow, Morrowii,” said a high-pitched voice with a giggle, “how are you this much of a honeypot and still waiting for permission?”
Mew looked up sharply, her freckled face going bright red as she saw a half-dozen catgirls smirking at her.
The catgirls had surrounded them without her even noticing—and if Trys or Yathi had noticed, Mew had probably silenced their concerns with her mantras, with her kisses. Oops. More hung up in the trees. At their head was Red and Chestnut, the two new girls Mew had put to work brainwashing Brist earlier. Hadn’t gone too well, of course.
And that, Mew remembered, gulping, was her fault. She had tickled Red and Chestnut pink at Trys’s command.
And judging by their big, gleeful grins, they remembered that very well.
“Um, h-hi, girls,” Mew said, giving a big, nervous smile.
“Hi,, Mew,” Red purred, her tail twitching to and fro as she walked forward. “Why don’t you... give her another kiss?”
“Don’t mind us!” Chestnut said, winking.
The two of them giggled, exchanging wicked grins.
Mew breathed in, inhaling Trys’s scent. Her mind sloshed. Biting her lip, she turned away—
And her gaze fell on Yathi. Beautiful, perfect Yathi. Sweet, brainless Yathi, panting, staring up at her with big, needy eyes as she squirmed in the arms of the hamadryads. Her tongue lolling out. A tiny dribble of honeyed saliva trickling out the corner of her mouth.
“Moo?” Yathi whimpered.
Mew breathed in, leaned in, and took Yathi in a kiss.
She sank into that kiss. Drowned in it, as Yathi moaned in bliss against her. She felt the catgirls moving in, heard them grabbing Trys, but she could do nothing as Yathi clutched at her. Mew whimpered as she felt Yathi, in turn, pulled from her, cutting the kiss short.
She found herself lying pinned beneath Red and Chestnut, who giggled as they held her arms and legs spread wide against the grassy ground. Mew’s head still spun from the kiss as she blinked rapidly up at them.
“You’ve been a bad kitty,” cooed Red, pulling a feather from her hair. Chestnut already had a feather in each hand. “Would you like us to punish you?”
“Oh, no,” Mew whispered, her eyes trained helplessly on those feathers, “please, please, not those...”
“A tickle for a tickle,” Chestnut sang, and they both giggled.
Nearby, Mew saw Yathi struggling slightly as the catgirls started to mass around her, tittering, replacing the hamadryads with their own lapping tongues. Trys thrashed, whining—the catgirls had left the hamadryads on her, focusing instead on kissing and licking all over the rest of her body. They were now whispering in her ear just as Mew had been doing.
Oh, Mew had been supposed to be keeping a lookout.
But, she thought, swallowing as she watched the feathers with excitement and dread, she was a bad kitty.
The feathers started to tickle over her breast...
And then a sweet, minty smell entered the air, and everything went blurry. The feather paused in its stroking. Chestnut’s and Red’s maniacal giggling trailed off.
“Ooh,” Mew breathed, smiling up at her captors. “Doesn’t that... smell... nice?”
Chestnut took in a deep breath. Red took in a deep breath. Dreamy expressions of bliss entered ther eyes—an expression Mew was mirroring, as she started to fade into slumber.
“Nice...” she heard a catgirl sigh. “Nice.”
“Sleepytime!” cooed Ia’s voice, and Mew’s eyes closed.
“Yeah, that was way too close for comfort.” Brist hurried back into the honeysuckle garden. Yathi’s hamadryads had lazily crawled back to begin suckling again, but in their daze, they were just suckling on a random catgirls.
The catgirls had collapsed. Three of them lay atop Trys, who still moaned as the hamadryads drank greedily. At first, Brist didn’t even see Yathi, until he noticed a foot poking out from a pile of catgirls who’d all been eager for a taste.
“Ia,” he said, frowning, “has it... ever seemed weird to you how obsessed everyone is with Yathi?”
Ia walked over and started casually tossing catgirls aside. “If you’ve never masturbated thinking of her, you can keep talking.”
Brist walked over and helped with rolling catgirls over.
Yathi was in a daze at the bottom of the pile. She blinked slowly up at them as light fell across her face, dispelling any fears Brist had had that she’d been conscious enough to hear what was said. “What... w-what happened?”
“The stew thing worked.” Brist wrinkled his nose. “Stinks to high heaven, too. What was in those herbs?”
Yathi didn’t answer. As Ia helped her to her feet, Brist walked over to Trys and, biting his lip, did his best to quietly transfer her two hamadryads to other catgirls—grasping one by the head, tugging her off with a pop, and just sort of smooshing her head against a catgirl’s breast until she stopped whimpering and took hold again.
Trys’s eyes finally fluttered open. She looked around dreamily as Brist took her by the hand and tugged her to her feet. “Wow, it... stinks.”
“The cats like it, though,” Yathi said, giving one catgirl a light kick. The catgirl stirred, but only slightly.
“Are they... they’re asleep, then?” Trys bit her lip.
“Not exactly sleep. More like trance.” Yathi walked over and took Mew by the hand, pulling her out from beneath a pair of catgirls Brist recognized all too well. “This is the first stage. Trust me, we wanna be out of here before the cocktail’s second stage hits.”
Trys blinked. “Are we really going to bring her?”
Yathi bit her lip, Mew already slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Her face was red. “She might be useful.
“Okay, whatevs.” Ia gestured. “We gotta go, like, yesterday. C’mon, guys. Let’s get out of this stinking forest.”
A catgirl gave a soft sigh at her feet. Her tail started twitching.
And the party ran.
“Aww.” Tsimpi tutted, strolling into the clearing. Kentri clung to her, biting her lip—it was the only way to conceal from the others that Tsimpi had slipped two fingers into her pussy. The rest of the Thriae followed. “Look at these kitties.”
The catgirls lay strewn about the clearing. Three had hamadryads on them, docilely suckling. The lot of them twitched and whimpered, clearly lost in the saccharine mist that immersed them.
Tsimpi glanced back, biting her lip. “Kifina, Vissy, go get the other two out of that vine trap.” She turned back to Kentri. “It looks like those mortals are—nn—cleverer than we thought.” She squirmed a little as Kentri’s fingers twisted.
“Looks like.” Tsimpi giggled. “But they left us aaall these toys to play with, so maybe not.” She pouted. “I wish Mew was here. Must’ve gotten caught up somewhere. You know she’s my favorite.”
Kentri smirked. Her expression melted into a look of helpless bliss as Tsimpi twisted the fingers slightly again. “G-Girls!” she managed, barely keeping her voice level. “Let’s get these kitties nice and sweet.”
The Thriae giggled wickedly, drawing out little clay pitchers.
Abruptly, the scent in the air changed, grew a bit muskier. The color of the mist shifted from a dusty ocher to a pale green.
And as one Thriae picked up a catgirl by the hair and started to hide her to her breast, the catgirl’s eyes opened.
Kentri felt a tingling run through her, and looked down in time to see a catgirl grasping her ankle. Her eyes were swirling a misty green, and when she spoke, it was the breathy tone of the intoxicated.
“Hey, honey. Wanna play?”
And the plants around them came alive as the catgirls pounced upon their prey.
Trys glanced back nervously. “You hear that?”
In the distance behind them, squeals of joy and alarm in equal measure had arisen. They were followed by a familiar buzzing.
Yathi’s eyes lit up. “Ooh. That’s very good news for us. The Thriae and the catgirls must be fighting. The catgirls must be starving for sex right now.” She petted the tranced Mew idly on the head. “Glad Mew got out while she was still in the first step. The second is... a doozy.”
“’m... not glad...” Mew mumbled, giving a little giggle. Yathi rolled her eyes.
“They won’t hold them long,” Trys said, encouraging the group forward. She bit her lip, glancing back once more, then quickened her pace. “Will they?”
“Hm. No.” Yathi grimaced. “They’re gonna break out, and they’ll be pissed. Odds are the catgirls’ll just catch one or two, and that’s if they’re lucky. Good news is, they’re basically immune to mind control when the smoke has them, so the Thriae won’t be able to score a dozen druid slaves to come after us.”
“Good.” Trys’s eyes narrowed. “And it’s good that they won’t be captured, too. We still need to follow them, remember. We have no idea where the Hive actually is.”
“And then what?” Yathi sounded weary, and not just because she was carrying a rather plump, increasingly squirmy catgirl. “We sneak in, somehow survive the smell without falling to our knees and kissing the walls, and oust the old Queen?”
“Pretty much.”
“It’s an idiotic plan. We’ll be mead sprites before we have a chance to even think.” Yathi’s tone was cold, as biting as a thornbush. Trys looked to Ia and Brist, and saw them exchanging uneasy glances. She wasn’t sure if they were worried about Yathi’s manner or about the mission. Probably both.
Her eyes narrowed. “Just trust me. I have a plan.”
“And when will you share that plan?”
Trys hesitated. “Do you trust me?”
Her words hung in the air for a moment. She looked into Yathi’s identical honey eyes and waited for an answer, keeping her expression calm. For a moment, Trys recalled the old willpower exercises, and tried to empty her mind of thought and want.
“Yes,” Yathi said at last, swallowing. “But I don’t like to have to.”
Trys turned away. “I’ll explain it when we get there. If one of us gets captured on the way, I don’t want anyone spilling it.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
Yathi finally set Mew down, and the group started moving faster, as behind, the buzzing faded away.
Trys swallowed a lump. Though she had tried to empty her mind of thoughts, one persistent sentence hovered in her mind like the buzz of the Thriae’s wings, incessant, inescapable.
You really shouldn’t.
Yathi gave a sigh of relief as she finished pitching the tent last. As it turned out, having a druid around could be very useful sometimes. Mew had crafted the three tents out of fallen leaves—one for Brist, one for Ia and Trys (sleeping next to a mead addict tended to cause dream problems for those not immune), and one for Yathi, with Mew sleeping outside.
It had been a long day. Everyone was excited to get to bed—Trys had already gone into her tent. Ia had volunteered to take first watch.
“Thanks for the help, Mew,” she said reluctantly. The catgirl just hummed, hands clasped happily behind her back.
“I’m gonna go for a walk,” Ia said, starting off into the brush.
“Don’t go far!” Trys called from her tent.
“Thanks for loaning me the shirt, Ia,” Yathi said.
Ia didn’t answer. She’d been very quiet since her return, really, Yathi reflected. The loan had been appreciated—Ia didn’t much mind being reduced to her undershirt, and Yathi had really, really needed a way to get Mew to stop staring at her chest. Well, quite so much, anyways.
Brist looked up from the campfire he was busily siphoning smoke from—smoke wouldn’t do if they wanted to hide, after all, and they were still on the edge of the Evergreen—and frowned. “I’ll... be right back,” he said, quickly dousing the fire. He hurried after Ia.
Yathi sighed. Well, at least those two lovebirds were working things out. She was sick of them bantering like they didn’t want to settle things horizontally. She glanced at Mew. “G’night, Mew.”
“Night?” Mew looked puzzled.
“Um, yes.” Yathi blinked. “We’re going to sleep. I know catgirls pretty much sleep whenever, but, um...”
“Oh.” Mew went red a little. Her head lowered. “I—okay. I understand.”
Yathi hesitated at the entrance to her tent. She swallowed and turned back. “I... we appreciate how you’ve helped us so far. And whatever Trys has promised you, I promise we’ll make sure you get it. Your own pet Thriae, or whatever. We’d have been screwed back there if not for you. That’s... not nothing.”
Mew blinked. She wrung her hands together. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“Yeah.” Yathi cleared her throat. “Just, um, maybe leave off on the... on trying to brainwash folks, and maybe you can...”
Mew took a step forward. “Yeah, sure, okay.” She batted her eyelashes. “So, uh, all this talk is getting boring. Wanna suckle, honeycow?”
Yathi froze in place. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt a tingling in her nipples. “Yes, pl—w-what?”
She stared in confusion into the catgirl’s big, bedroom eyes.
Mew put a hand on Yathi’s breast and squeezed it gently. Yathi barely held in a moan as honey started dribbling out. “Wanna suckle, honeycow?” she purred.
Her voice was like a sunbeam, soothing her slow silly, mind into sleep. Such a pretty, pretty voice for such a pretty, pretty kitty...
“Um.” Yathi’s head was spinning. She was being pushed into her tent, and Mew was following her in, giggling. She couldn’t muster the thought to resist, to push back. She was basically a doll in Mew’s clutches, putty in her claws. “I...”
Mew easily pulled off Yathi’s shirt and pushed the unresisting Yathi to the ground. “Wanna suckle, honeycow?” she cooed.
And as those words oozed through Yathi’s scattering thoughts, Yathi felt her mind finally melt into place.
“Ooh, yes,” she whimpered, squirming. “Please!”
Mew giggled, leaning in close, and started to lick up the dripping honey. “You don’t hafta worry about paying me back, sweetie,” she said sweetly. “You’ve already promised to take care of me, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Yathi whined, her back arching. “Yes!”
And as Mew started to suckle, a look of pure bliss entered the catgirl’s eyes.
It was a look that Yathi knew she mirrored as Mew’s fingers, coated in her own honey, slipped into Yathi’s mouth to muffle Yathi’s squeals of pleasure. The tent sealed shut behind the druidess as Mew began to drink deep.
Yathi was in for a long night.
“Ia, wait!” Brist called. “Wait up!”
Ia glanced back towards him. She slowed down a little.
Almost a minute later, he drew level with her, panting. “You... walk fast.”
“Yeah.” Ia put a hand on his shoulder. “You alright, there, bud?”
“F... fine.” Brist took a deep breath. “Just winded. These robes are heavy.”
“I keep tellin’ ya, you don’t need robes.” Ia hopped up onto a fallen log. “Yathi had a good look going for her.”
“Right. Sure.” Brist hopped up as well, sitting down beside her as she continued to stand. He looked up at Ia, lithe and muscular, standing almost picturesque atop the log in nothing but a pair of shorts and a white undershirt. She stared off into the distance, chewing her inner cheek. “So... are you okay?”
There was a pause.
Ia snorted. She plopped down beside him. “I’ve always been a bit broken, Brist. Immunization. You’re the luckiest guy in this team—the only person not broken in some way.”
“Well...” Brist fumbled. He clasped his hands together in his lap. “That won’t last.”
“Oh, yeah, that makes me feel better.” Ia giggled. “A reminder of our impending doom with whatever terrible plan Trys’s cooked up for us. I feel great now, Brist. Thanks.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Ia leaned against him. “I just... all my life, I’ve been so fucking horny ’cause of this immunity. My parents didn’t want me to get it, but, y’know, company orders. And here you are, about my age and right as peaches. Kinda galling, I guess?” She gave a soft sigh. “It’s weird.”
“Yes, well...” Brist twiddled his thumbs. “It sort of... it’s not good. But we need you. I don’t think we’ll make it without you.”
“Yeah. Probably not. I already saved us once today.” Ia rested her chin on his shoulder. Brist started slightly at the close contact, but... stayed still. Somehow, it didn’t bother him like he’d always thought it would. “But you all helped. Kinda like an adventuring party. That’s nice.”
“Yes. Yes, well...”
Ia kissed him on the cheek. “You helped, too. You, personally, I mean.”
Brist was very glad he wasn’t as pale as Ia, so she couldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He bit his lip. “Yes. I-I try.”
“Is this okay?” Ia kissed him again. And again. “Is it okay, Brist?”
“Um. Yes.” Brist realized he’d tensed up and forced himself to relax. He slumped against Ia, and on impulse, placed an arm around her. She wriggled happily into the embrace. “Yes. It’s okay. It’s... it’s nice.”
“I bet it is,” Ia said teasingly, and kissed him again. “After these weeks, I bet it is, Crystals.” She rose up slightly, nibbling his earlobe. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And... is this okay?”
Brist shivered. “Yes.”
Ia gave a soft, soothing moan into Brist’s ear. She started to rise up, and Brist had a moment of panic as she sank into his lap. She wriggled again, sitting sideways, her pert ass pressed up against his cock through his robes. She smiled and leaned in close, her lips touching his. “And... is this okay?”
Brist stared into her eyes. There was something strange about them he’d never noticed before. A sort of glassiness. It was... pretty. It sparkled in the starlight. Glimmered, dark and full of reflections.
“Yes,” he whispered, trembling. His hips bucked slightly, unconsciously. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
She smiled, and kissed him. “Good boy.”
She started to bounce, and he started to whimper.
And before she started to kiss him once more, he heard her whisper in his ear, her voice barely above a breath, “Good boy for Mistress Elly.”
He squirmed slightly as she rose up and down, stroking his cock beneath her. “W-What was that?”
She pulled back to face him, smiled, and kissed him once more.