The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kentri gasped, her fists clenching, her shoulders pressed tightly against the smooth walls of the alcove. Her wide eyes were fixed hopelessly upon the pretty silken tapestry before her—a delicate veil that would only half-conceal them from any prying eyes that fell upon them. The mere thought of prying eyes made her knees wobble.

She heard Tsimpi, kneeling between her legs, purr in amusement. “Aww, buckling already, my Captain? But how will you learn restraint—” lick “—if you don’t practice endurance?” lick

“Tsi-Tsimpi,” Kentri whimpered, but her voice failed her. It was all she could do to cling for dear life as her second-in-command daintily licked between her legs, cooing between every little stroke of her delicate tongue.

Kentri was normally an imposing presence, a statuesque High Fey warrior captain with wide, generous heart-shaped hips and biceps that could rival a wiry trollmaid’s. But her weighty braid of solid sunlight was currently being used as a handle to keep here in place, and her titanic, divine naked tits bounced and jiggled with her every panting breath. Right now her gleaming golden eyes were wide and glazed with pleasure, her beestung amber lips parted and trickling a thin trail of drool from the corner. Were her eyes not a solid insectile gold, they would surely be crossed.

Her bodice had been ripped away and left in a tattered mess nearby. Surely a strong, dominant captan like her wouldn’t need it, her lieutenant had cooed… as she’d started to lick.

“Tsimpi, p-please,” she managed, before her words broke into a strangled cry and orgasm swept through her again. Her whole body rocked, and she mewled as Tsimpi gleefully lapped up every last drop of Kentri’s most submissive, intimate ambrosia.

“Please what, Kentri?” Tsimpi cocked her head innocently up at her, licking her lips and fingers clean. She had a big, lovely, guileless smile on that wickedly angelic face.

Kentri knew how important it was that she remain silent. The kissing alcoves were for Thriae to toy with their drones, their mead sprites—but not with other Thriae warriors and workers. Especially not commanding officers. Commanding officers were supposed to… to command. If she made so much as a peep above speaking level, and if a Thriae or two (or three, or four) happened to be walking by, and if one of them happened to get curious and glance inside...

The life of a drone was a mix of constant pleasure and constant torment. Kentri’s breath caught at the thought of being turned into Kentri’s toy—of being anyone’s toy, being used and played with until she could only beg for more, of being left denied whenever she didn’t beg sweetly enough… or worse, of being left denied whenever she begged too cutely and it amused the Thriae using her more to leave her a whimpering, pleading mess in their bed.

The thought made her whole body go weak and boneless, and she desperately forced her knees to lock as Tsimpi went back in to continue her exquisite torture.

“You were—mm—being sooo, like—mwah~—silly back there, Captain,” Tsimpi said sweetly, punctuating her words with tiny licks and generous kisses right on Kentri’s dripping pussy lips. “Getting—mmm!—hurt by mortals! Captured by —mwah~—by catgirls!” She grinned up at Kentri. “And you didn’t even manage to catch a single one of them, did you?“

“I—I—” Kentri whined. She clapped her palm to her lips, desperate to cover her cries of pleasure. Tsimpi always knew just how to toy with her, how to break her, how to draw out every little humiliating squeal and scream as loud as possible. And right now, more than ever, Kentri needed to stay quiet.

They’d both be in trouble if they were found out, of course. Tsimpi would get told off for field insubordination. Maybe she’d even get punished, assigned to boring unrewarding duties, have her two drones reassigned.

But Kentri would get owned.

“And this after all your little talk about us being better than mortals, too~!” Tsimpi smirked. “For all your boasting to those humans, you sure did give in easy to them.”

“N-Nnuh,” Kentri slurred, her head spinning with lust. She stared down at Tsimpi. Oh, she wanted so badly to agree. To degrade herself. To beg. To grovel.

She knew it would only encourage Tsimpi to double her torments.

She couldn’t.

She mustn’t.

“You need to be taught a lesson, I think,” Tsimpi purred. “And it’s just the perfect job for your loyal—” lick “—faithful—” lick “—devoted lieutenant, isn’t it?“

“Y-Yes,” Kentri whined. Almost all pretense of Tsimpi being the follower and Kentri being the leader had fully evaporated now, and she knew that if she sank to the ground, she would be Tsimpi’s for the rest of the day, lost to Tsimpi’s sweet touch. She had to prove she could withstand this, or she was doomed. Tsimpi was only being so reckless because she knew Kentri wouldn’t dare give in.

Tsimpi wanted her to hold on. In a way, Kentri thought, swallowing, she was being a good girl this way.

She wasn’t resisting at all.

“It’s a heavy burden, of course,” Tsimpi lamented. “After all, you’re sooo, like, smart and strong. If you can’t resist…” Her tongue lapped at Kentri’s clit, again and again and again. “... whoever can?

“T-Tsimpi!”

“Me?” Tsimpi beamed innocently, her expression as pure as the honey trickling from her lips. “Aw, that’s sweet, my totally gorgeous Captain, but I’m just here to obey your commands.“

She leaned in and slowly set her lips against Kentri’s pussy lips. It was a deep, passionate kiss, her lips smacking lewdly as her tongue slipped inside. She moaned happily at Kentri’s taste.

Kentri lost control. Pleasure assaulted her body like hailstones, and her whole form rocked and thrashed. She realized she’d started sucking on her fingers only when they barely suppressed her brainless bimbo squeal of ecstasy. Her fifth orgasm that day was almost unbearable.

The waves of pleasure lapped teasingly at her shores, slowly subsided. Her body went nearly limp. She was barely still standing.

Her whole vision was blurry as Tsimpi pulled back. Her gorgeous second-in-command wore an unbearably condescending smirk. “So give me one~”

Kentri stared helplessly. Yes. A command. An order. Take control. Show Tsimpi. Do as Tsimpi said. Command Tsimpi.

She babbled incoherently. She babbled and burbled and sucked and moaned and struggled with every last ounce of muscle control she had to keep what shreds of balance she had left.

“Hm? Huh? I can’t understand you, Kentri, honey.” Tsimpi blinked big, thick-lashed eyes. “Gosh, Captain, can you speak up so everyone can hear?”

Her finger climbed casually up Kentri’s half-naked body to tease over Kentri’s dripping nipple, pinch it, stroke it.

Kentri moaned.

Tsimpi’s oozing-sweet tones could melt glaciers into puddles. ”Use your words~”

Kentri whimpered.

She knew that she would say whatever Tsimpi wanted to hear in this state—anything for Tsimpi’s touch. Admit anything. Do anything. Scream anything. Squeal anything like the slutty little brainless bimbo she was, like the dumb horny toy she needed to be, like Tsimpi’s obedient little mewling drooling drone.

All it would take was one

more

push.

So when Tsimpi smiled triumphantly, rose up, and offered Kentri her fingers to suck instead—still dripping with Kentri’s honey—Kentri accepted them docilely without a single whimper or complaint.

She sucked, and sucked, and gazed at Tsimpi in rapturous gratitude.

“I thought so,” Tsimpi cooed. “You’ve clearly learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

Kentri whined. And sucked. And licked. And slurped. Gods, her own pussy tasted so good. Or maybe it was that unbearably smug smile on Tsimpi’s breathtakingly angelic face. That smile made everything taste sweeter. She was so grateful to Tsimpi for ‘sparing’ her, pathetically so. She would do anything in that moment for Tsimpi, and they both knew it.

She managed to nod.

“Good girl!” Tsimpi cooed, and Kentri moaned and rubbed her thighs together needily. “Aww, I’m sooo happy I was able to help!“

Kentri kept meekly sucking on the honey-dripping fingers right up until Tsimpi pulled them out. They emerged with a slight popping sound, newly cleaned. Tsimpi winked. “Anytime~“

Kentri panted and drooled and whimpered. She wanted more, so, so badly. But she managed to stay silent. As long as Tsimpi spared Kentri her touch, Kentri could almost—almost—resist Tsimpi’s charms. And that...

Tsimpi reached up to pet Kentri’s hair with the same hand. Kentri moaned and nudged her head against the hand eagerly, desperately, craving the affection.

... that was why Tsimpi never stopped touching her.

And why, Kentri thought, as her cheeks burned in shame, Kentri always let her.

She nuzzled Tsimpi’s hand and couldn’t help but giggle. It always felt so nice to give in, to trust. It didn’t come easy to any Thriae, but… oh, gods, the secret, perverse delight of losing... damnation had become heaven for Kentri. In this moment, Kentri was just so, so happy that she had Tsimpi all to her…

“Well, I’ll be right back, cutie!”

Kentri blinked. “H-Huh?”

Tsimpi drew away, flashing Kentri a sly grin. “Lucky for us that ‘we’ at least caught those catgirls, huh? We’ll at least have something to show the Queen. I’ll go present them, while you…” She licked her lips. “... recover~”

Kentri nodded weakly, not trusting herself to speak.

Tsimpi giggled, smirked knowingly, and reached for Kentri’s hand.

Slowly, as Kentri’s eyes widened in dawning horror, she found her hand guided down right between her legs.

“Don’t do anything too naughty,” Tsimpi cooed, “until I get back to help make it worse, my Captain~“

Instantly, shamelessly, helpless to resist, Kentri began to masturbate.

Tsimpi squealed her delight, bouncing and clapping her hands. “Oh my gosh, like, you’re so—mm.” She made a show of clearing her throat. “Well, Captain, I’m sure you know best.” She winked. “See you soon!”

She swept under the tapestry and disappeared from sight, leaving Kentri alone to fuck herself silly.

Kentri gasped and squirmed. She needed to stop. She couldn’t risk cumming—not with how loud she was getting. She couldn’t risk cumming, and that meant edging.

Endless, stupid edging.

And she knew what that could mean. She knew that if Tsimpi came back and found her playing with herself like this, stupid and self-bimbified, a dumb horny bimbo slut, edge-dumb and blissed out and desperate for touch...

The thought made her eyes cross, and the Thriae’s tongue lolled with pleasure.

She imagined being found in this adorable brainless state. Drooling, edging, barely containing her whimpers as she humped her hand like a depraved little whore. A cute, weak, helpless little slut.

She stroked faster, reached up and pinched and played with a nipple. Anyone, she thought in secret delight, would be able to bring her to heel like this. Tsimpi. Another Thriae. A whole group of Thriae.

She panted. A… a Thriae drone, even, submisive and hopelessly desperate to please but stll stronger than dumb, slutty Kentri… and then the drone’s owner would find her, and she’d be—she’d be—

She tweaked a nipple, moaned and mewled, rubbed her clit, squeaked, cooed. Anyone could have her. Anyone could own her. Even a mead sprite—

The curtain concealing the kissing alcove swept aside.

Kentri froze, staring up in sudden horrified panic.

But her hand didn’t stop.

The Thriae stared up in horror, in humiliation, and stroked faster, unable to contain a whimper as she met the eyes of a very familiar woman of such unbearable beauty her whole mind went molten with pleasure and she could contain herself no longer and—

and—

—and she came, stifling her squeals desperately with a hand as she rocked and bucked against and grinded against her own fingers. She moaned and drooled around her hand, collapsing onto the floor and writhing in bliss, staring up at the two humans in pure, stupid desire. No other thoughts seemed to matter anymore. She let herself be capsized, taken under, submerged beneath rolling waves of pleasure, and all those boring thoughts of resistance and dignity and control seemed to be washed away by the tides. Her shame only heightened her delight.

It was only as her orgasm started to subside, and the nice glaze of afterglow set in, that she started to look up at the hot one—Yathi, it had been, right?—and feel a pinch of dread in her gut.

That pinch of dread became a knot of fear as she saw the two humans look at her, exchange looks with one another, and smile.

Earlier…

Brist gasped and whimpered into the soft, slightly sticky kiss of the gorgeous blonde mead sprite before him. Emberli purred against him, clutching him tightly, greedily. Behind him Primme, the other sprite, gripped his hips to keep him from squirming and covered his neck in kisses.

They had him pinned between them in the kissing alcove. His cock rubbed torturously against Emberli’s silken white slip.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

But... but he needed to go somewhere, he knew dimly, dully. The Thriae had gone back into the bathchamber, and now might be his only chance. The others were doubtless going to leave soon, and if they found him like this...

He whimpered at the thought and bucked instinctively against the soft, warm thigh. She cooed, pulling back from the kiss and batting her eyelashes seductively. Helpless gasps of pleasure spilled from him as she raised her leg and rubbed her thigh deliberately against his cock. Hump away, those bright honey-glazed eyes said.

“Go on,” Primme said. “You wanna feel gooood, don’t you, silly boy?“

“nn... no...”

“Wanna feel good,” Emberli echoed with a bubbly laugh. She leaned in close, reached behind him to cup Primme’s ass and squeeze him between them, and gave him another sticky kiss—her lips smacking sweetly against his, her moans trickling into his ears, her nimble little tongue slipping into his mouth and lathering his tongue with the honey she was addicted to.

Feel good. His mind seized on the delectable thought as he whimpered and ground helplessly, unable to help himself. The smell was delectable, intoxicating, and he only then realized that his taste and smell were back in full force.

Mew’s spell had broken.

But so little of him remained to care. His cock rubbed with aching slowness against Emberli’s thigh, slick with precum, and with the honey she was covered in down there. He moaned, molten pleasure babbling through his mind like a slow-flowing brook of honey.

“Yeah?” Emberli sang in his ear. “You like that, cuuutie?“

Brist gasped as she rubbed her thigh slowly, teasingly along his shaft. Oh, gods, no, he couldn’t—

“Oh, he loooves it,” chimed Primme, and their teasing giggles echoed in his ears as they showered his face and neck with sweet, sugary kisses. He barely held in his cries as their lips smacked over his bare skin, such wet, sensuous kisses, leaving little honey lipstick marks all over him.

He whined and keened softly, trying and failing to stop his shameful humping. His face was so hot, but not as hot as the rest of him, trapped between two such intoxicating blonde bombshells.

They were just sprites. Mead sprites. He wriggled helplessly and whined as they ground their hot little bodies against him. They barely… barely even had mind control…

He drooled as their kisses traveled down his neck until their lips met on his left shoulder. The silly bimbos actually got distracted briefly kissing one another, the wet, smacking sounds of their kisses right in his ear almost a little hypnotic. They were petty sprites, not even as dominant as Thriae drones.

And he was giving in to them.

“Gooood boy,” they chimed in tandem in each of his ears, and gave girlish giggles as his cock twitched and dribbled.

“Aww, he likes being a good boy!” exclaimed Emberlii. She cooed wordlessly. “Good boy! Oooh, that’s a good boy!“

He was, he realized—heart racing as his humiliating humping sped up, whimpering as their degrading praise only made him more and more aroused—going to let them make him cum.

His whole mind was awash in sugar. Was this what mead addiction felt like, he wondered? No, it couldn’t be. These were only sprites. They didn’t carry true mead.

Which meant…

He panted and drooled and bucked. He was giving in to basically nothing.

Nothing except feeling good.

And that embarrassing thought only made him hump harder.

“Gosh, like,” Emberli cooed up at him with a big, happy smile, “usually everyone here just pushes us around!” It was like they were reading his mind. She smirked and grinded her knee up against him, and he mewled in pleasure. “But you’re being, like...“

“... ssssooooo good for us,” Primme gushed in his ear, nibbling his earlobe and making him cry out—luckily, her hand shot forward to stifle the cry.

“So eager,” Emberli teased, reaching down to stroke one little delicate finger over his throbbing, drooling cock’s tip. “You’re, like, some kinda little sprite toy!”

Bubbles of gleeful bimbo laughter rose between them at this, and his cheeks burned in embarrassment.

His hips gave a tiny thrust.

They stopped laughing.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” Emberli’s eyes were wide. “Did you see that?“

Brist whimpered into the hand covering his mouth. Sticky and sweet. Primme had been… she’d been touching herself with it.

“Did he actually twitch?” Primme crowed. “Oh my goshhh, like, is he… is he getting off to getting all embarrassed?”

He squeaked.

“He is! He is!” Emberli’s voice was a squeal of glee. “I saw it twitch again! Oh-em-gee, that’s… like...“

“SOOOO CUUUUTE!~” they cooed together in his ears, and his cock dripped and leaked.

“He’s just so excited to give into the weakest fey around,” Emberli smirked at him with a pleased glint in those dumb honey-drunk eyes. “He wants to be ours.“

“He’s being so good, too… " Primme sighed. “... maybe we should give him what he wants?”

Brist’s breath caught. He looked between the two of them, his heart starting to race. Their eyes were affixed on his dribbling cock as it rubbed over Emberli’s thigh.

“I mean,” Primme continued, her voice unbearably smug, “he’s just humping away like a cute little puppy! What if we made him, like, cum his dummy cummy brains out from that?“

“Oh my gosh,” Emberli cooed in his ear, ”sooo embarrassing!“

He whimpered a protestation into Primme’s hand.

At least, he prayed it was a protestation.

“That’s it, then.” Primme sounded matter-of-fact now as she groped his ass and helped—made him buck faster. “We make him cum-cum-cum so he gets to feel nice and humiliated by two pretty girls!“

“Nnnnmf!~!!”

“He’ll look soooo cute and, like, pathetic and stuff,” Emberli sang, grinding her knee against his cock in time with his thrusts until he could barely breath. “Just like he wants!” Her honey-slick thigh felt exquisite against his bare skin... “He’ll, like, basically just melt for us!” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Right, cutie?”

Brist was panting, drooling…

“It’s mead sprite’s job to make everyone here feel gooood,” Primme purred in his ear. “We might be toootal dummies, but I bet you wanna be even dumber, don’t you?“

He squeaked and whimpered. No, no, no, he had to…

“Don’t you,” the bimbo said silkily, not even slightly a question, and reached down to give his cock a little squeeze, her thumb rubbing ever-so-daintily over the slick, sensitive tip.

And Brist lost.

“Mmm! MMM-HM!” His head bobbed senselessly. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, YES, he wanted it, he needed it—

“And you wanna be gooood for us,” Emberli cooed. “Not just so we won’t, like, reveal you… though we could~” She grinned and kissed him on the cheek, giggling at his broken expression of helpless panic.

They both know there was nothing he could do to stop them from doing however they pleased to him.

He was at their mercy.

“... but ’cause, like, being gooood for us,” Primme burbled, planting her kisses all over his neck, slow, sensuous, wet kisses that made his mind melt, her voice dissolving into a sensuous moan, “feels… soooo… goooood…”

“Soooo embarrassing,” cooed Emberli, bouncing against him, her breasts squishing against his bare chest.

“Mm! Mm-hm!” Brist nodded eagerly, desperately.

Obediently.

He couldn’t help himself any longer. He couldn’t keep building like this—it was too much, it felt too good, and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t resist them. He stared at Emberli with wide, pleading eyes, and had never felt so miserably pathetic.

“What?” Emberli asked with mock-innocence. “Gosh, like, do you want something?”

Both sprites giggled.

“Mm! Mmf!” He moaned into the hand and senselessly humped away.

“Make you cum? But we’re just silly little mead sprites!” Two’s voice in his ear was as slick and sticky as sweet, intoxicating honey. “Like, why don’t you just take control and make us?“

“nnngh…” Brist drooled, weakly shaking his head, barely caring that his moans were getting dangerously loud. He dimly heard the others talking in their alcoves, now—drowning out his words as they planned their departure. He tried to listen, but he was too horny, his world too foggy…

“No? You’re not in charge?” Emberli blinked big, surprised, beautiful glazed honey eyes up at him. Such a cruel, smug, sexy, irresistible little bimbo… “Does that mean, like... we’re in charge?“

He nodded miserably, his cheeks as hot as a furnace, humiliation burning in his heart almost as hot as his lust.

“Oooh,” sang Primme, “silly little wizard got controlled by a couple mead sprites. So cute.” Her bubbly laughter was like the sweetest music in his ear. “Soooo, like, totally pathetic!”

He whimpered. And bucked.

The mead sprites giggled. They seemed to take a moment to admire their prize, humming happily. Then they leaned in close and cooed in his ears:

“Cum for us, boy~”

Emberli’s thigh pressed hard against his cock, and they began to bounce him between them.

And Brist only dimly noticed the hand leaving his mouth as the pleasure came roaring into him, as his cock started to twitch and spurt, as he cried out brainlessly into open air,

“I’m c-cummingg!”

Brist remained caught between their soft, warm bodies, twitching and dribbling, drifting, drooling, for what felt like hours as the mead sprites played with his body. They cooed and sang to him as they pumped his cock, kissed all over his now-naked body, eager to see just what cute sounds might come out of their helpless new sprite toy.

The afterglow made time melt into a puddle, a soft, warm, cozy cushion for him to lie back in and give in to everything. Seductively soft. Seductively warm. Just like them. So easy to lie on the floor and lose to pretty girls.

Not even the racing footsteps outside bothered him. His thoughts were goo, nice, ooey-gooey cum drooling from his dumb, dribbling cock. He was the sprites’ cute pathetic little toy now, and they’d take good care of...

... care of...

… wait. Footsteps?

Dim memories started to breach the surface as the rosy film of afterglow began to finally fade. His eyes shot to the curtain.

He was being left behind.

The thought gave his mind purpose. He fumbled around, and the sprites barely noticed—they’d settled in the soft folds of his robes as a bedsheet, once again distracted kissing each other, giggling, babbling. They really were very dumb sprites.

He bit his lip. And yet.

He dispelled the thought and found what he was looking for. Thrusting his hand into the pocket of his robe with one hand, and grabbing the robe with his other, he grasped a smooth, very cold transparent disk carved to resemble a sunstone.

And readying his mind, Brist gave a mental pull.

The crystal mage’s magic didn’t come easy. It had been too long. His mind was too foggy. But mountain tears were easy, and this was his most prized of the collection.

It was with deep relief that he felt the magic flowing through him once more. With the tear’s magic came clarity, energy, drive, a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength he had to make use of fast.

With a gasped cry, he shot to his feet, driving the two kissing sprites apart, and pulled on the robe with such force that the sprite were sent tumbling off off. Snatching up his underwear and holding the clothes up to cover his erect cock, he stumbled for the exit.

“Aww, cutiepie, where are you going?” Emberli called after him.

“Don’t you wanna be our goood boy?” sang Primm.

“We were gonna let you fuck one of us next~”

“I mean, after playing dressup~”

He bolted under the curtain and ran. Everything was a haze, and the sprites’ words didn’t help. His cock was still hard—he doubted he would be able to calm down fully until he was out and clear of the sweet scents of this place. He just ran. He had to follow the others, had to keep from getting separated, had to—

He ran into a resin wall with a thud.

For a moment, Brist stood still, pressed against the... not a wall, a door. The door he’d been staring through. His head spun from the impact, and he leaned there briefly to avoid falling. He didn’t expect the sprites to chase him, but he surely didn’t have long. Supposing...

His heart quickened. Supposing someone in there heard me slam into their front door?

Brist hesitated. His mind was still spinning a little. He needed to check. If they’d heard him, he might accidentally lead them right to the others. He couldn’t do that.

He didn’t have a choice, did he? Just a quick peek. Just to be safe.

He just needed a second, he told himself, and briefly wondered where the dazed smile on his face had come from as he leaned against the warm, slightly sticky resin door.

It didn’t matter. Just a peek. That was all.

Before he could second-guess himself, he pressed his face against the door and peered through the keyhole once more. That wonderful warmth returned instantly, pulsing in waves from the door like a nice cozy hearth, massaging his lingering worries away. Oh… oh, that felt nice…

In the bathing chamber, all was much as it had been before. Countless mead sprites lounged in those squishy honey beds, many in the arms of cooing Thriae drones and warriors. The vast honey pools rippled as sprites swam lazily, cavorting with one another, pushing each other under for extra-deep doses. His gaze lingered on their beautiful golden hair and eyes, thinking of Emberli and Primme, and quickly darted away.

To the Thriae.

He watched, breath catching, as Evadne, the lifeguard Thriae in the two-piece blue swimsuit, strutted right past his view. Her long wavy hair swept behind her as she made her way to a whimpering catgirl sprite who was floundering in the thick honey. “Aww, having trouble?” she teased.

The catgirl mead sprite gazed up at her with honey-gold eyes filled with adoration and longing. Brist stared at her, wondering at the pleasure in those eyes—especially as Evadne used her long ribbon pole to entangle the catgirl and push her deeper under.

Judging by her casual bored expression, Brist guessed you really couldn’t drown in mead. You’d just… drink. And drink.

His cock twitched against the warm amber, and he swallowed and looked away.

His eyes drifted over to the leader, the tall platinum blonde in the flowing wedding dress. She was lounging back nearby in a chair, cooing as two mead sprites suckled at her honey-heavy breasts. Wet smacking and slurping sounds came from those two as they whimpered and moaned, as he dimly heard her cooing, “That’s it, good little kittens~”

Gods, she was like… like a goddess…

Brist knew he should pull away, but he felt weak at the knees as his eyes drifted helplessly to the image of the strawberry blonde harlot, the almost animalistic, feral slut, who had mounted a new Thriae he hadn’t noticed before—a taller woman with red cheeks and a drooling mouth, a Thriae whose eyes were so glazed with submissive helpless desire she could only be a drone. The harlot was bouncing on the drone’s cock and moaning insensibly, groping her own tits with lewd abandon. Brist could almost smell her sweet musk from here. He squirmed and rubbed faintly against the door.

And there, nearby, were ‘Siproites’ and her two companions whose names he hadn’t heard. The lovers. They were dressed in identical black corsets, short skirts, and fishnet stockings, and they were utterly inseparable from one another, groping each other, grinding and humping and making out with giggles and moans of pleasure. Brist had never seen such a wanton display of pure sapphic lust, and he’d gone to the Onyx Academy.

He ground his hips, just a little. The hall was cold. The door was warm.

Brist kept looking. There was Hestia, the exquisitely curvy shortstack with the translucent white t-shirt and short red skirt, petting the hair of a dazed, sleepy sprite in her lap, pouring honey from a golden pitcher into his open, drooling mouth. The man senselessly pumped, and she smirked down at it with sly, predatory hunger.

Brist felt heat he couldn’t name. He felt himself pressing against the door, panting softly. It was so... they were all so...

Okay, he told himself, you… you checked. You’re in the clear. So... it’s time to get moving.

And he would, in just a moment. He just had to be sure. He pressed harder against the warm resin door, staring as he watched the blonde bombshells cavort and play with their toys. The door was as smooth as polished opal, but it had a strange softness to it, a yieldingness almost like beeswax or a bar of soap. It felt nice, with its heat. Strangely comfortable.

And it smelled sweet.

He swallowed as he noticed how the harlot’s tits bounced with every rise and fall of her wide, generous hips, how her nipples leaked steadily as she played with them. As she let out a squeal of pleasure, he gasped, and her musky scent was mingled with the sweet, heady, smoky-honey scent of the strange door.

It smelled nice.

He breathed in again and felt his head spin a little, and it felt like he was almost floating. Or sinking. He breathed in again, deeper, and felt a dumb, dazed smile spreading across his face.

The door seemed almost to give way for his form, to mold ever-so-subtly around him, providing a soft, cozy surface to lean against. He knelt down, since he was tall enough to see through the keyhole that way and it felt easier, and stared in longing at the dumb, blissful smile spilled across the pinned drone’s gorgeous red cheeks. She was so beautiful. They were all so beautiful.

He was sweating. The air felt thick, humid. A heat was surrounding him as he stared, and he felt his cock, still naked and dribbling, twitching as he rubbed it a little more against the door.

It was getting harder to... to focus on the Thriae. Sort of. Or it felt like he wasn’t truly seeing them. He was just taking in their beauty, their raw sexuality, their irresistible bodies—built to bring any mortal to their knees with beauty alone. But all he could see was himself kneeling before them.

He knew it was time to go, and the thought made his heart sink. Readying to rise to his feet, to tear his eyes away from the intoxicating visions so freely offered him, he took a deep, steadying breath.

And a silky, sensuous, treacherous voice whispered in his mind: Why not at least get dressed properly first?

His head tilted slightly. He slowly mulled the thought over. It… made sense, didn’t it?

He did need to get dressed. He could do that while he stared.

Kept watch. While he kept watch. Biting his lip, Brist fumbled with his robe. Normally he donned it headfirst, but he didn’t want to block his view—he could hear Hestia purring condescending encouragement to the plaything in her lap as the sprite lapped honey that had spilled on her thighs, whimpering in joyous embarrassment...

The underwear was harder. His cock was still hard, and indeed, as he pressed himself against the soft, seductive heat of the door, breathed in its heady scent, ground his hips against it, his cock didn’t seem to be getting any softer. It was even still dripping, and he flushed at the mess he was making as he awkwardly pulled his hips back from the door and pulled the underwear up so it at least somewhat contained his erection.

He drew the robe around himself and swallowed.

Okay. It was... it was time to go.

The thought filled him with a crushing sense of disappointment. Doubt flickered in his mind as he leaned against the door.

He hesitated. He... he did have to go, didn’t he?

It’s safe here~

The thought was gentle, delicate, as daintily placed as a dancing sugar maple seed falling on the forest floor. Brist felt himself sluggishly nodding. His vision was hazy, but his lust remained. He was safe here, wasn’t he? This door was a nice, soft, warm place to rest.

And he needed to rest, surely. He swallowed, and breathed in deep, and felt himself smiling again. He’d been through so much already. He needed time, to... to help his cock go down. He couldn’t very well go when his cock was this hard, could he?

Of course not~

He licked his lips, smiling wider. Yes. Of course not. What a silly thought. He knelt back down and pressed tighter against the door, one hand incidentally still resting in his lap, so close to the embarrassing tent in his underwear. So close to his twitching, drooling cock. He had to wait here, in this heat, breathing in this scent, drooling over the blonde bimbos and temptresses on the other side of this door, and...

He frowned. No, no, wait, what the hell was he doing? He needed to go, didn’t he? He need to...

Just relax, purred the voice in his head, sweet and bubbly and reasonable, soothing. Warm and soft. Just relax. We have plenty of time.

The voice massaged his thoughts, stroked his mind like a sleepy kitten. Brist felt his frown melting away, giving way to a big, dumb smile. Yes. Plenty of time. He squirmed a little and adjusted his cock again. Plenty of time to... relax...

You need to let some pressure off, the voice said reasonably in his mind. It sounded so convincing, so casual, so sure of itself, Brist felt sure it had to be right. Need to eeeease the need.

Ease the need. Brist swallowed, reaching down and feeling his cock through the cloth.

That’s right, exclaimed the voice, bubbly and pleased. Uh-huh, that’s it~! Ease the need. Let go of the load.

Time to touch~

Time to touch. He gasped and shivered and bucked almost instinctively against his hand. His whole body felt deliciously hot. The air smelled so good here. He heard the moans coming from just behind the door, and even as he fell away and turned from the keyhole at last, his vision remained nothing but golden bliss.

He bucked again and giggled dumbly. Oh. It felt so nice…

but... but wasn’t he supposed to...

More, purred the voice smugly. you want more.

“More,” he whispered aloud, gazing up into endless swirling clouds of amber mist as he lay against the warm, comfortable door and breathed in its intoxicating scent. “... want... mmmore...”

“That’s it!” The voice sounded excited now. It also sounded weirdly... closer. More distinct, less a part of Brist’s mind and more something else. “Oh, such a gooood boy!”

“good boy.” Brist whimpered and grinded against his hand. The words still resonated deeply from the sprites, and they sounded so sweet echoing in his nice, empty head. He rubbed his cheek against the door, loving the soft, warm squishy feeling, the way it gave away beneath his weight when he pressed, the way it seemed to ooze around him…

Sooo good, the voice agreed, with a girlish giggle. Pump pump pump!

“pump…” He giggled, too, stroking vaguely. His underwear made it harder, but…

Take it off, the voice suggested.

“oh…” He blinked, rubbing his cock. He couldn’t do much more than slip his hand under and stroke the tip, but it was so slick with precum and cum and honey… “b-buh… but don’t I need it?”

No, the voice revealed sweetly. You just need to pump and pump and pump!

His eyes lit up, and then immediately glazed over with pleasure as he pulled his underwear back down. Yes, of course! It made so much sense in that sweet musical voice. It was obvious. He giggled. He was so dumb for not remembering it.

Yes you are, the voice cooed. That’s it, now, just pump and pump and…

“pump pump pump!” he cooed back. And he obeyed. He pumped his big, dumb cock, moaning as his head sank forward into the door.

Yes! Peals of laughter. Wow, I… teehee! That’s right! Pump pump pump! Stroking feels sooo good, doesn’t it?

He nodded happily. Pulses of pleasure filled his mind like the final flashes before sunset as he leaned into the soft gooey amber…

Just look at you. Sooo dumb.

Dumb. He managed to frown vaguely at this. He wasn’t dumb. He was… he’d done so well at the, um, at the… learning magic place…

Aww, teehee, don’t worry, dummy! It’s a good thing! Soothing waves of pleasure flowed through the door into his brain, and the big, idiotic smile returned. Boys should be dumb.

“oh.” He blinked. Was that really true? It sounded true, coming from the voice…

Being dumb is just soooo much easier, the voice cooed. You loooove being dumb.

“uh-huuhh…” Pump pump pump…

Boys love pumping themselves soooo dumb and stupid and brainless, the voice went on smugly. Until they can’t even take care of themselves anymore!

He panted, pumping up and down, loving the lewd sounds from below. “guhh… b-buhh…”

Something she’d said made him confused, though. If boys couldn’t take care of themselves…

Omigod, you’re sooo dumb! the voice teased. Brist giggled proudly. If boys can’t take care of themselves, obviously pretty girls can do it! We’re soooo much more smarter!

Oh! Oh, that made so much sense. He smiled happily and pumped away. He was getting close to cumming, and then he’d be all dumb, and he’d need a pretty girl to take care of him then. He hoped a pretty girl would come by soon!

Oh, I can help with that, the voice said slyly. Just be a good boy and… The honey door was so nice and sticky and gooey as it seemed to flow up his legs. ... give me a taste~