The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

THE MONSTROUS RANCH, CHAPTER SIX

Bobbin the hob and ‘Mommy’ the holstaur faced off against one another. Senya lay back in a soft, silken chair, his cock trapped inside his new mistress’s wet pussy. His lips remained fastened around her breast, and he could feel his mind going, very slowly, the longer he suckled at her glorious teats.

Mommy had her neck craned to watch Bobbin as she slowly continued to rise up and down on his shaft. Milking him. He whimpered in bliss. Not even the threat of Bobbin was giving him a reprieve from the constant bliss.

Bobbin slowly circled around them, entering the stall. Senya felt like he was only catching glimpses of her—like he was drifting in and our of consciousness. The creamy, sweet milk poured down his throat, banishing all doubts. It was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted. He needed more. He drank hungrily, desperately. The distraction was only slightly slowing his impending orgasm.

“Sweet little Bobbi,” moaned Mommy, caressing one of his own nipples with a finger. “You used to love this chair. Jealous?“

“I am giving you a direct order,” Bobbin hissed. “Let him go. Don’t you dare make him cum again.“

“I can’t make my darling baby boy do anything, Bobbi.” Mommy smiled, wrapping her hand around his head and pressing against her breast. “He wants this. Don’t you, baby?“

He moaned in response. Yes. Whatever she said. Whatever she wanted, he wanted. Her slick pussy contracted around his cock, almost as a reward—he trembled, totally helpless beneath her.

“He’s making himself cum,” Mommy murmured, wriggling her hips in time with her words, “all. By. Him. Self.”

Senya’s eyes screwed shut, but the image of her perfect, angelic silver-haired face smiling down at him felt burned into his mind. He started to whine, milk dribbling from his gasping lips. He was too horny even to drink. Too aroused to control himself.

But deep down, he knew he’d drunk enough.

“Look at him, baby,” Mommy cooed, and he dimly realized she was addressing Bobbin, not him. “Look at his eyes. Dear boy, open your eyes.” He felt his eyes open automatically, but everything was unfocused, indistinct. He found himself staring into the eyes of Bobbi.

Bobbin. She was biting her lip as she gazed on him. Her cheeks were flushed.

“This could be you, baby,” Mommy soothed. “You remember that look in your eyes. So sexy. So sexy for your milking Mommy.”

“Mommy,” Bobbin said, her voice small. “I-I mean... holstaur. This is an order.”

And Mommy turned to smirk at her as she gripped one of her own nipples and tugged. A fresh jet of milk squirted into Senya’s mouth and straight down his throat. His brain melted as one last burst of lust swelled within him. “I think you take orders from me, don’t you, baby?“

“N-no...”

Mommy turned back to smile at Senya. She rose up, with one last gasp, and then—

And he came.

Lust utterly devoured Senya’s mind, and he screamed. Mommy smothered his cries by pressing him against her breasts, but he shook and writhed all the same. At some point, she’d bound him in the silk restraints—or he’d mindlessly bound himself—and all he could do now was squirm and buck upwards beneath her.

He could feel her will gripping his, holding him, wrapping its vastness around around him and holding him tight. It felt so safe. So perfect.

Mommy was coming, too, though she didn’t scream. She just let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Good boy,” she whimpered. “G-good, thirsty boy. Drink. Drink. Be my good—my good—ohhhh.

Gradually, the orgasm ebbed. But already, Senya could feel another rising as Mommy continued to rise up and down above him. She was still horny. She still wanted more. He could only pray she would want more forever, because he knew now that he would never be able tom get enough of her.

His lips had slid from her breast in his mindless pleasure, but now she was holding it up to him again, readying to squirt more tasty milk down his throat. She giggled. “Doesn’t it look nice, darling girl?”

“... it does,” Bobbin whispered, and Senya almost didn’t recognize the weakness in her voice. That weakness gave him pause. “Looks... nice...”

Some tiny spark of independence flared in him. Not Bobbin.

“Bbbn!” he cried, only to be silenced again by the holstaur’s massive tit. And then more milk was sliding down his throat, and he was suckling again, unable to stop. His mind sank back into sweetness. He was a good boy. He was Mommy’s good boy.

“Well, Bobbi?” the holstaur whispered. “Are you ready to join him?”

Bobbin seemed to rally slightly in response to Senya’s cry. “I... I c-command you—”

“Hee. No. No, baby.” Mommy sounded terribly smug. ”I command you to get on your knees for me. My playthings don’t walk on two legs. Okay, baby?“

A long pause. The only sound in the room was Senya’s mindless suckling.

The silence was broken by the sound of an explosion. Senya suddenly felt terrible heat graze over him. The holstaur was ripped from his body, and he heard a crash, and the sound of breaking wood.

He blinked and looked around. Part of the wall of the stall had caved into the corridor. The holstaur lay on the floor, but she was already struggling to her feet. She looked only slightly scuffed up.

“Bad girl,” Bobbin hissed. “Bad girl. Bad girl. Bad girl!”

“Aaah!” The holstaur started to writhe and shake. Apparently, these triggers still worked. “N-no! I’m s-sorry!“

Bobbin strode over, and Senya saw that her pants were down to her ankles. She was staring down at the holstaur with a look of pure fire. “Bad girl. Bad girl.” She stooped, and Senya saw her drawing out from her sleeve a long, pink feather. She approached the holstaur’s breasts. ”Bad. Girl!

“Bobbin,” Senya whispered, struggling to his feet. He picked up the bucket—nearly impossible, as it had somehow made it to three-quarters full during all of this. “B-Bobbin.”

“Bad girl,” Bobbin husked, and she brought the feather closer and closer to the wriggling, spasming fey. There was a familiar look in those eyes. ”Bad g—“

Senya grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her target. She looked up at him, startled, almost as though she’d forgotten he was there. “W-we should go,” he managed.

Bobbin blinked. She looked down at the holstaur, spasming, moaning. She licked her lips and rubbed her tits together, cheeks bright red, whole body glistening with sweat.

Then she took off running for the exit, dragging Senya behind her.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Bobbin gasped. “I’m s-so sorry! I didn’t—didn’t—”

Senya watched her, biting his lip, as she sat against a large elm and used one hand to hold her pussy lips open. The other was furiously toying with her sex. She’d reached two whimpering orgasms already. Nothing seemed to satisfy her. He had a feeling he knew what satisfied her these days, and it lay back in that gods-forsaken barn.

It was sort of uncomfortable. He was her boss, but their dynamic sure wasn’t like any employee-employer relationship he’d ever heard of. And now she was frigging herself off in front of him.

The worst part was, she’d asked him to watch her. Gods only knew why. It was almost like she didn’t trust her own mind.

Well, in fairness, Senya could relate.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He wasn’t feeling any stabler, but he didn’t have the fey arousal. At least he’d been able to come a couple times and gain some relief—it didn’t work that way for fey. Fey only got hotter and hotter with every orgasm. Unless pressed by outside forces, they only stopped when they were too exhausted to move. “She, um... she really did a number on us, huh?”

Bobbin wasn’t in any shape to answer his questions, but she did eventually stop masturbating. She let out a long, low sigh, then snapped her fingers. Suddenly, she was fully-clad again.

He eyed the trousers, biting his lip. “Can’t you do that for me?”

“You mean what I was just doing?” She giggled. “If you insist...”

His face heated up, and he took a reflexive step back. “N-no! I mean...” He gestured at her trousers, then at his own naked form.

She glanced at him, head tilting. All business again. “Why?” She winked. “I’m just kidding. It only works for me. A house fey must always be presentable, no matter what she’s just been up to.”

“Oh.” He glanced back at the barn, then at the house, which they had more-or-less fled to. The fleece sprites lay nearby in their pen, calmly watching them. “So she, um... Mommy—”

“Don’t call her that.” Bobbin’s voice was sharp, her eyes narrowed to slits.

“Then what do I call her?’

She looked up at him, then cracked her knuckles, averting her gaze. “I don’t know.”

Senya stared blankly at her. “You don’t know her real name?”

“It’s complicated.” Bobbin crossed her legs and stretched each shoulder in turn. “Anyways, I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d manage to resist control like that. And she got that damn chair out! She shouldn’t even be able to leave her stall, much less make it all the way to the storage for that... that awful thing!” Her tone modulated oddly on the word ‘awful’, as though she was scrambling for a different word than the first one that had come to mind. He saw her nibble her lower lip.

“It’s not normally in her stall?” Senya groaned. “I thought that chair was to restrain her!“

Bobbin rolled her eyes. “Of course she said that. No, that’s a faedelight. It’s woven for bondage sessions. It has... mental effects.”

Senya swallowed. “On the person in it?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking.” Bobbin rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I am sorry I’m being so cagey, Master. I’m rattled. This shouldn’t have happened. I didn’t know she’d be able to outright jump you—I figured she might get you milk-drunk, but to actually tie you up...”

She trailed off. A long, uncomfortable silence hung between them.

“Right.” Senya coughed. “Um. She didn’t so much ‘jump’ as, er...” He rubbed his wrist. “W-well, the milk, you see—”

“Ooh.” They both turned. One of the fluffy fleece sprites—Angora, in fact—had crawled to the fence and was watching them through heavy-lidded eyes. “You two look...” She yawned. “Really sleepy. Like me.”

“Not today,” Angora.” Bobbin grimaced. “We have more visits left for the Master.”

“Okay.” Angora smiled. “How about you?”

She turned to Senya.

Senya felt her eyes sinking into him. He remembered how soft her wool was as he gazed into those soft eyes. They filled him with drowsy thoughts. How he longed to crawl over... to rest his head in her breasts once again...

He bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the hypnotic images. “We should go,” he muttered.

“Yes.” To his surprise, Bobbin sounded... vaguely approving. “There will be time for them later.”

“... right.” Senya tried not to show his disappointment as he got to his feet and turned away. He tried not to have disappointment. He didn’t want the fleece sprites, did he? For the gods’ sakes, he had the puppy sprites now! Barring mind control, how could he ever want for more? And how could he want to have sex with creatures he knew would mind control him?

Maybe because, a dark part of his mind whispered, he really, really wanted it. Wanted to be controlled. Wanted to give in.

He hurried after Bobbin, trying to shut out the memories of sparkling eyes, swinging breasts, and soft, luxurious wool.

* * *

“Where are we going now?” Senya asked. He hadn’t even realized that the hill they were now climbing was part of the Ranch—it lay all the way past a most curious henhouse Bobbin had made him give a wide berth to—but sure enough, the wall lay just beyond the hill. A copse of what could only be described as... clover trees grew around a small cottage. By clover trees, Senya meant exactly that—their trunks were like those of trees, but the branches composites what resembled massive purple clover blossoms. He couldn’t see more than that from the path.

“The amulet,” Bobbin said, and his heart leaped with hope. “We’re gonna go start preparations.”

“That’s... that’s really good.” Senya let out a short laugh. “You’ve seen how weak my will is, Bobbi. I don’t think I’ll hold up much longer.”

“You were holding up to begin with?” Bobbin shot him a playful look, but there was a spark in her eyes that Senya couldn’t quite identify. “Look, Master, I know I’m critical. I’m critical because I fear for you, and for the Ranch. But what happened there wasn’t... wasn’t totally your fault.“

“Thanks,” Senya said, only somewhat sarcastically. In truth, he was curious.

“I think you just may need to do some work,” she said, raising a bushy eyebrow at him. Her gaze was knowing, and Senaya tried to keep from squirming beneath it. “You... Senya, tell me truthfully. When the puppy sprites were enjoying you last night... did you ever think of Brigitte? Or Tricin? Or the fleece sprites?”

“What?” Senya felt his face heating up. “No! Of course not!”

She continued to peer at him, not saying a word.

“I mean...” He rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t, had he? “I don’t think so. No. I didn’t. Look, when your puppy—er, when a puppy sprite is licking your dick like there’s no tomorrow, you’re kinda gonna be thinking about her. Not some alraune.“

“That’s good.” She gave a little nod. “Because if you do, it’s going to be a problem, amulet or not.” Bobbin cleared her throat and turned away. “I’ve seen Master after Master fall to fetishes, Master. Your great-uncle knew better. That’s why we have the puppies—so you are never, ever tempted to masturbate to thoughts of one of the prisoners.“

“But...” Senya paused, considering an odd flower to their left. It was a deep crimson, and shaped vaguely like a beehive, or a conical artichoke. Red bees buzzed about it, heedless of them. “But you keep trying to get me to fuck them.”

He hadn’t meant to say it so crudely. It had just come out.

“Oh, yes.” She giggled, putting her arm in the crook of his elbow and leading him past the flower. “Master, I’m not cruel. I would never ask you to totally resist them. Besides, there’s a reason the will stipulates you must be attracted to women. It’s actually a bit dangerous if you aren’t.“

“How so?”

Bobbin stopped abruptly. She looked somewhat taken aback. She frowned at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Senya gave a limp shrug. “I’m getting used to admitting I’m not exactly qualified for this job, Bobbin. Damn it, I’m a carpenter, not a fey rancher. Just... act like I’m an idiot and explain it to me.”

She was silent for a moment, before a small smile flickered past her lips. “Fair enough. I do find your frankness refreshing, Master, for what it’s worth. Even your uncle never could admit when he was in trouble, not that he often was. Too much pride in your family. It’s nice to have a Master willing to sacrifice some control. Makes my job easier.”

Once again, that wording sounded a bit double-edged to him.

“Let me tell you a story, Master.” She snapped her fingers. “Please, have a seat.”

“But there’s no—” Senya found himself sitting down in a comfy plush chair. He looked back—it had just appeared underneath him. Its back legs were improbably long, just long enough to keep the chair level on the hill. He blinked.

“Once upon a time,” Bobbin whispered, her voice a breathy drone, “back when the gods still reigned and the grass grew just a little bit greener, there was a terrible war.” She drew her hands apart, gesturing expressively. Senya found his eyes drawn to the movements, but they were so swift, so strange, so hard to follow, that it was difficult to focus. “On one side was an order of cruel knights, agents of the fey gods. On the other, a cluster of kindly villages with one protector: A great hero from the islands named Gebba.”

Senya leaned back into his chair and watched her hands spin around. He could almost see, in his mind’s eye, the face of this Gebba: A portly, dark-skinned person of unclear gender with short hair, wearing shining silvery mail. “Gebba wielded a net of knives,” Bobbin went on, and he could see the net, hundreds of woven silver knives, “and wore the necklace of the turning worm.” Senya stared ahead as Gebba drew from their collar a necklace bearing an enormous amber eye.

Senya shifted slightly in his seat, a bit impressed with his own imagination. It was almost dreamlike, in truth. He felt so very tired right now. His eyelids droop, but did not close. It felt important to keep listening, to keep watching.

“The knights fought Gebba on three turns. On the first, they sent their mightiest warriors to claim a village. These were the mightiest in the land, and every one was as tall as a mountain.” Senya stared ahead blearily. He could see these giants marching forth. He felt so tired, so pliant, he felt like he’d see whatever she told him to see right now. She was a gifted storyteller.

“But Gebba was skilled, trained in the arts of the sword undying. A great battle followed. They bested each one of those knights, staining the fields red with blood and black with shadow, for they had the power with their net to catch the very shadows from the dead and wield them as weapons.”

A terrible battle played out before Senya’s eyes, and he saw the giants fall, one by one. Gebba would dart forward, using the net to snatch the giants’ shadows like fish in water. Then, Gebba would grab the shadows from the net and reshape them like soft clay, forming weapons, staircases, doorways and chasms. The giants fell. One by one. It was mesmerizing to watch in its repetition. One by one.

“Gebba proceeded onwards, to stop the knights once and for all. The knights were panicked, and so they called a legion of tricksters and magicians, paid with bloody silver to work their wicked wiles. Sphinxes and rogues and illusionists alike conspired against the warrior.” Senya’s head lolled slightly as a big-breasted women moved into view, her lower body that of a great feline. Her breasts jiggled closer and closer, filling his sight. Just as they were close enough to lick, the strange creature melted away into shadows.

“But Gebba was wise and canny themselves. No riddle, no trap, no paradox could perplex them. Snares of rope and fire and steel alike failed to penetrate their mail or beat their net. No ambush would suffice.”

Senya’s eyelids fluttered. Dimly, a very quiet part of Senya told him that he’d been hypnotized, easier than anything. That he had given in with scarcely a fight. That it was a very, very good thing Bobbi was on his side. But these thoughts quickly drifted away from him, leaving him in a place of soft calm and pliancy. And he listened intently.

“And at last, Gebba stood before the final six knights, the youthful leaders of their order: Three men, and three women. Some will change this story, and say it was all women, because that story sells better. Those storytellers are lying. It was three men and three women, two dark, two pale, and two of colors that humankind no longer wears.

“Gebba fought the six knights, and it was a ferocious battle. The knights brought to bear every trick they had, for they were skilled beyond their years and aided by the powers of the fey gods, but Gebba was relentless. And at least, Gebba stood before the last of the knights that had not lost her weapon, and they leveled their net at her head and demanded her surrender.

“And the knights knew that they were beaten. They knew that Gebba was too strong, too swift, too canny. But there was one trick they had not yet tried. And so the last knight threw down her sword, fell to her knees, and pledged fealty to the great warrior.”

And Senya saw it all. He saw the warriors battle, and he saw the last one surrender. His mind felt strangely vacant as he wondered what would happen next.

“Gebba was gracious in their victory, and did not seek blood. They only commanded that their knights renounce their wicked ways and never again lift weapons against anyone. The knights swore that they would do battle no more. But then they offered Gebba something more. They offered a sweeter reward by far.”

The last knight raised her hand, and servants entered, bearing barrels. Glasses were filled with mulled wine. The next thing Senya saw, Gebba was reclining in an armchair as the last knight poured wine down Gebba’s throat, her arms wrapped around them from behind. There was a smile playing on her lips. Senya felt his cock harden at the sight of that smile. It was so familiar...

“They filled the great warrior with sweet wine, and there was no trickery in it. They pledged their bodies to Gebba...”

Senya saw the six knights gradually surround Gebba, stripping their armor away. A male knight knelt before Gebba and went between Gebba’s legs, while a pair of female knights sat on each of Gebba’s knees and took turns kissing them.

And always, they would pause, again and again, and fill Gebba with more and more mulled wine. Soon, Gebba was embracing their former foes, sinking into a steamy orgy. Senya felt his cock hardening at the sight.

“... and in time, Gebba forgot the villages. Gebba forgot the battles. Gebba forgot everything except pleasure. Gebba drank mulled wine, and thrust, and received, and sucked, and was sucked, and kissed and licked. Gebba drowned in bliss, living to a ripe age with their six slaves.”

Senya felt a strange pleasure start to pour into him. He tried not to moan, struggling to pay attention, to watch the images. To watch Bobbin’s hands.

Hand?

“And as they embraced this gluttony, the fey lords descended upon those villages.” Senya watched as nubile nymphs and dancing satyrs surrounded a small cluster of huts. Satyrs chased maidens through the streets as nymphs hypnotized young men into their arms. Harpies picked up warriors and carried them to their nests. Dryads trapped their foes in vines and fell upon them, drowning them in kisses.

Senya couldn’t help but cry out softly as a little burst of pleasure shot through him at this sight. He quivered in the chair.

The images shifted once more, back to Gebba’s orgy. The warrior looked drunken and addled as they were impaled from behind, sucked, kissed, filled with what had to be indescribable pleasure. Senya shuddered at the sight.

“And Gebba never knew. Gebba never knew they had lost, too steeped in pleasure to listen, to see. The net fell from their grasp. The necklace of the turning wyrm cracked around their neck. For this fly had been drowned in honey, and a fly drowned in honey never knows to stop eating.”

The images slowly went foggy and faded from view.

Senya was totally limp in his seat. He looked up and saw that Bobbin was licking her left hand clean. She smiled at him. “You see? If we left these girls needy and desperate, they would fight tooth-and-nail to escape. But as long as somebody’s drowned in pleasure...” She sucked her index finger, almost a little suggestively, then popped it out and giggled. “... they never stop to wonder if there might be something wrong with what’s going on.“

Senya blinked blearily. “So... you’re saying that as long as I’m here to make them come, they... they won’t realize they’re imprisoned?”

“Something like that.” Bobbin shrugged. “It’s more that they’ll remain content as long as they still have a toy to play with. But yes, you’d be surprised at what someone can explain away when they’re getting fucked every few minutes. It really wreaks havoc on your perspective.” She winked and turned away, starting back up the path.

Senya took a deep breath and stood up. His cock was extremely hard, and almost felt like it had ejaculated a few seconds ago, judging by the wetness. But he knew he’d have remembered that. He tried to clean himself off as best he could with his hands before moving on.

Bobbin had a point, he supposed. Sometimes pleasure could convince you of the silliest things.

* * *

“What are they?” Senya whispered.

“Beembos,” Bobbin whispered back, a small smile on her lips. “Don’t pay them any attention.”

Senya scowled at her. “I’m being serious.”

She just shrugged and kept walking uphill. Senya kept staring at the... the beembos.

There were at least six of them that he could see. They resembled pale young women—Southwestern, maybe. Not from around here. But their posteriors were...

... well, they were like bee butts. There wasn’t any delicate way to say it. And they had antennae, and big compound eyes the color of honey, and buzzing diaphanous wings. Their hair was long and dirty blonde, except for one, who was a bit larger than the others, bigger-breasted, and had platinum blonde hair. They were beembos.

And they were having sex in the clover, near as he could tell. The six of them tumbled about, buzzing joyously, almost playing. But their faces and fingers were dripping with each other’s amber juices. They repeatedly tackled one another, giggling and buzzing, trying to make each other come.

They were coming a lot. They were also covered in the clover’s pollen.

Senya was transfixed. This was not a sight that would leave him anytime soon. He watched the platinum as her fingers ran inside two beembos’ pussies, one for each hand, and her face became smothered beneath a third’s. Three of them were essentially using her as a living plaything.

Senya frowned. The buzzing was getting louder, it seemed. It was getting hard to hear his own thoughts.

All he could hear was the buzzing. That, and the moans.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Mmf!” The platinum shook and writhed, sinking deep into the flowers. Senya watched in amazement as two other honeybee girls grabbed her feet and started masturbating with those. The platinum was spread-eagle and gasping like a wifwolf in heat—this despite the fact that she was the one pleasuring everyone else.

Then the sixth beembo met his eyes. “Hi!” she buzzed, dropping to her hands and knees to look down at him. Her fluffy posterior wiggled slightly. “You must be the new Master!”

Senya looked at her, then at the mass of bodies, as the five lovemaking beembos sank into the petals. It was rather hard to take his eyes away. “S-Senya,” he managed.

“Master is fine!” She giggled. “My name is Ting. These are my hivemates, and this,” she gestured to the platinum, who was currently licking desperately at another beembo’s pussy, “is Bezzy, our queen. Say hi, Bezzy!”

“Aaah!” Bezzy squealed, as her tongue brought the beembo above her to a writhing orgasm.

“Oh.” Senya watched and listened as several of the other beembos started to moan louder. Their moans were joining the buzzing as a constant drone. Their eyes were heavy-lidded, and their eyelashes fluttered rapidly.

Ting appeared to notice his distraction. “Sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her hivemates. “You know how it gets. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself.“

“Uh... right.”

“Yeah,” she went on, “sometimes you just get so horny, and you see someone so sexy right in front of you, you just gotta use ’em!“

Senya watched as, behind her, the queen was made to suckle at another beembo’s breast. This soon after Mo—er, the holstaur—it made him slightly queasy. The look of bliss on that beembo’s face as she was brought closer and closer to climax...

“She, um...” He managed to point in the vague direction of Bezzy. “She doesn’t get to come?” He’d noticed that none of the beembos were paying her any attention—they seemed to be just using her as a toy. “I-isn’t she the queen?”

A chorus of vibrant giggles answered his question.

“Our queen isn’t the leader, silly,” Ting chirped. “She’s the hive slut!”

“Hiveslut!” chanted the other four beembos. “Hiveslut!”

The ‘hiveslut’ just giggled as she suckled eagerly, her hands and feet currently being gripped and used by four different beembos holding her up.

“Oh.” Senya had to admit, this made some sense. Anya was really into beekeeping, so he knew that the queen was responsible for breeding, in a manner of speaking. “So... is she always like that?”

Ting only smiled wider. “It gets really hard to help ourselves,” she purred, her voice dropping. Her eyes were like glittering topaz stones. “We get so needy, we’ve just gotta taste whatever comes along.“

Senya watched as the queen’s face was shoved between a beembo’s legs again. Her arms and feet were positively dripping with juices. He could almost smell it from here. “Mm-hm.”

“We just want to give in, after a while,” Ting purred. Dimly, Senya felt delicate little fingers tickling over his hard shaft. “So much eeeeasier. Don’t they look happy up there?“

Senya realized his mouth was hanging open. “Uh-huh...”

He felt soft kissing at his neck, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “You wanna—mm—join ’em?”

“Uhh...” Senya trailed off, a slow smile spreading across his face as he watched the show.

Some part of his mind was sending up warning signs. Unfortunately, that same part of his mind was currently distracted trying to work out how the beembos above had just managed the latest sex position. Fey really were flexible...

“Aw, cmon,” the beembo cooed in his ear. “Look at ’em. Doesn’t it look nice?“

The queen was going between two beembos to kiss, while her fingers thrust into two more pussies. Her feet were out of sight. One of the beembos, however, hovered above her, and appeared to actually be using one of her antennae as a dildo. This appeared to be driving the queen up a wall, though with pain or pleasure, he honestly wasn’t sure. Maybe they didn’t know the difference.

“It does look nice,” he heard himself mumble. Internally, he was trying to dispel the haze. You’re being hypnotized, damn it! he told himself. Stop watching the hiveslut! I mean, the queen!

The buzzing was almost completely filling his mind, though. Unbidden, thoughts drifted in, like fluffy white clouds in an empty blue sky.

They just use her... day-in, day-out...

I wonder if they mind control her...

Her lips are so plump... imagine, six of them...

“It does?” Ting’s voice was as sweet as honey as she started to kiss down his jawline, towards his lips. Her lips were sticky—no doubt covered in another beembo’s honeyed juices. He felt her fingers wrap slowly around his cock, and finally registered that Ting had, of course, flown down here to pleasure him.

To tempt him.

He felt her sticky lips tickle his ear. Her whole body seemed to be vibrating slightly—including the hand wrapped around his cock. “Does it really feel nice?’ she buzzled. “Really nice?“

“Y-yeah,” he babbled, desperate to keep her hand on his cock. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the orgy of beembos above him. It felt so good to watch them and let her stroke him. So nice.

“You sure?” She licked his neck. “It feels nice to stand here and watch us? Watch that little hiveslut get what’s coming to her?” She licked him again. His neck was starting to tingle pleasantly. “Ooh, imagine you were up there with them!“

“Uh-huh!” He was starting to pant, imagining it. Imagining them swarming him, making the hiveslut pleasure him just like she was pleasuring them. Her eyes were glazed with lust right now. He imagined the five of them covering him, drowning him in pleasure. Just the thought was intoxicating.

Ting cuddled up next to him. “So you want me to keep doing this?” she whispered. “Or do you want me to stop?”

The question almost seemed idiotic. He struggled to resist the urge to answer, but it was no fight, really. He had a big, vacant grin on as he whispered, “Keep going. Please. Please, Ting.”

He heard her giggling.

“Master?” Bobbin called. Her voice sent ripples through the honeyed daze, but his eyelids barely fluttered as he watched the beembos fuck. “Where’d you—oh. Oh, for pity’s sake... Ting, get off him.:”

“Nuh-uh!” Ting sang. “Master commanded me to keep going!”

A pause. “Really, Master? I mean, not that I don’t enjoy a few minutes in their company, but we have work to do.“

Senya blinked. Work? Oh, right. The amulet. The ranch. The... the blonde sluts sixty-nining in front of him...

“Don’t mind her,” Ting cooed. “I’m just stroking those worries out of you, aren’t I? Stroke, stroke. Can’t think about amulets anymore.”

Senya nodded dimly. His head was swimming. His cock was starting to pulsate.

“Watch the hiveslut!” Ting practically moaned in his ear, her slender fingers pumping up and down around his rigid cock. “Ooh, she’s such a good girl. Stroke, stroke. Can’t think about Bobbi anymore. Stroke, stroke. Getting so, so close watching them. Stroke, stroke. Can’t even think anymore. Just enjoy the show. Brainless an’ horny. Stroke, stroke.“

Senya was melting into her grasp. He knew it, but he couldn’t fight it. So he tuned out Bobbin. He tuned out his worries. He just watched the beembos crawl over each other, lost in addled lust. He just let Ting stroke the worries out of him until all that was left was pleasure. He stared deep into the desperate eyes of the queen as the platinum squealed and gasped.

She was staring right at him.

Her bee-stung lips were open as she gasped for breath, but as her golden eyes fixed on his, a slow, stupid smile spread across her angelic features. He took in a deep breath.

And he came, in a slow, steady stream of bliss. His whole body shook with the force of it. Ting just kept pumping, stroked every ounce of pleasure from his body. She was holding him up now. He felt his mind tingling strangely, and turned to look at her. She pouted her lips in an expression of naivete and giggled.

With that, Ting released him. She flew back up towards the orgy, but paused to blow him a kiss. “We’ll be thinking of you!” she called, gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “And you’ll be thinking of us?“

“Yes, Ting,” he said without thinking. Already, he found his hands straying towards his cock. He fought the temptation and turned to Bobbin.

She looked a bit cross. “Well, that was a wasted half-hour. You really had to give them the order?”

He grimaced. His mind was rapidly clearing now that his gaze was away from the orgy in the clover tree. “Look, I was being mind co... wait, half-hour? That was five minutes, tops.”

She rolled her eyes. “The beembos don’t deal in pleasure, Master. They deal in lust. Buildup. Temptation. Teasing. They try to implant visions and triggers in you that drive you crazy with horniness. They try to get you to frig yourself off to the memories of them. Then they reel you in.“

“And fuck you?” he asked, as curious as he was hopeful.

She shot him a curious look. “Well, yes, though they’re just as likely to treat you like their queen. She’s the lure, you know, right? The center of the vision. You’re gonna be seeing her in your dreams. Do not masturbate to her.“

Senya swallowed. “Got it.” Up above, the six beembos were back to their games, five tormenting the one. Now, the queen was taking turns sucking at her lovers’ fingers suggestively as they teased her lower body with feathers. One of the beembos glanced down at him and gave a lascivious wink.

The hob sighed. “Master, you’re staring at them again. Openly.”

Senya snapped his vision away, his face heating up. “Let’s go on to the cottage.”

“Yes. Let’s.” Bobbin tugged him along up to the cottage’s front door. She paused, turning back to him, and looked him over. She whistled through her teeth. “Wow. I’ll say one thing for you, Master—you certainly have stamina. I can see why the girls here are so eager.” She winked and gave three brisk knocks.

“Oh, come on.” Senya rubbed the back of his neck. “Bobbin, you know I’m not getting a choice in...“

The door opened. And as Senya saw the woman standing in the doorway, the words dribbled out of his mouth. And out of his mind.

She was blonde—a brilliant honey blonde that positively shone in the sunlight. Her eyes were the exact same color, big and golden, as were her lips. And she was certainly gorgeous. Her lips glistened with a strange stickiness, like some sort of gloss. Hm.

But it was her lower body that had caused Senya’s conversational skills to momentarily revert to those of a lavender lover.

Her hourglass figure was almost absurd. Her hips were smooth, round curves—as he stared, they swayed to the left, then the right, as though testing his pursuit. Her breasts swelled within a tight black lace corset that barely concealed anything, and her pencil skirt was similarly inadequate. The clothing looked practically painted on. Her long blonde curls spilled down around her heart-shaped face, tickling her vast chest. Despite her figure, she was remarkably short—perhaps only four feet, or a bit more.

Her lips parted in wonder as she stared at him. Slowly, a beatific smile spread across her face as she turned to Bobbin. “Oh. My. Gosh! Bobbi, there’s a new Master? And he’s, like, so cute!” She clapped her hands together delightedly. “Why didn’t you tell us?“

Bobbin gave a slight smile. “Senya, meet Sylvestris.”

“Oh! Like, Sylvia’s fine, babe.” Sylvia fluttered her eyelashes. “That name’s, uh, mega hard to say, am I right? Not to mention to remember!” She giggled.

“It’s your own name.”

“I mean... gosh, Bobbin, I guess so.” Sylvia pouted. “I guess I’m kinda a bimbo sometimes. Remembering is hard!” She leaned forward, grabbing Bobbin’s hand and slipping it up her skirt before either Senya or Bobbin could even process it. “But you don’t mind, right? Please, Bobbi?” She made her voice very small. “Pwease, Bobbi?”

Bobbi sighed, smiled, and started to stroke Sylvia beneath the skirt—right in front of Senya. “No, of course not. Good girl. Good girl.”

Sylvia panted. “Ooh. Ooh, yeah. I am, huh?”

“Are your sisters available?” Bobbin asked, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Sylvia tilted her neck back to make room for Bobbin’s touches. “Uh-huuuuh.“

“Where are they, sweetie?”

“Gosh,” Sylvia whined, “uh, tea room.”

And just like that, bobbin stopped touching her. She patted Sylvia on the butt, eliciting a little whimper of surprise, and grinned. “Great! Thanks. C’mon, Master.”

Senya tried to ignore how the teased Thriae watched him as he moved past and entered the quaint little cottage. Carvings and paintings—the former all carved from beeswax, the latter largely depicting blonde women and bees—hung everywhere. It was actually quite a nice little cottage. But it was a prison. He had to remember that.

“So that was a Thriae?” he whispered, as Bobbin led him down the hall.

“Yup. Don’t let the dumb ditz act fool you. Thriae are clever bastards.”

“But...” Senya frowned. “I can still think straight.”

“You think so.” Bobbin shot him a smirk. “But in reality, you’ve been licking out her cunt for the past hour.”

It took Senya way too long to realize that she was just kidding.

“No, you’re worrying about the Thriae buzz. Well, don’t worry.” She waved a hand dismissively. “First thing we trained out of them. They literally can’t activate it without it turning on them and, well, turning them on. Their own buzzing makes them horny and pliant as fuck.” Bobbin rubbed her kegs together, giggling. “Talk about laser-guided karma. They’ll do anything in that state, you know.“

Senya frowned, but he didn’t say anything. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about enjoying these captives when they didn’t have a real choice, but it wasn’t exactly at the top of his list of consent-related worries right now.

They came to the tea room. It was surprisingly hot and humid in here, Senya thought, suddenly glad he wasn’t wearing a ton of heavy clothes. In the fireplace bubbled a cast-iron pot of something very sweet. A pair of silky couches faced one another, along with a long reclining chair, all facing a long coffee table. It was very high-quality wood, Senya rapidly surmised with grudging respect. That table wouldn’t need maintenance for a long, long time.

The reason he was placing so much focus on the woodwork of the table was that he was desperately trying to avoid being hypnotized by the two utterly drop-dead gorgeous Thriae women sitting on the couches.

The one on the left had less curly hair, more wavy, and she was a bit taller than Sylvia. The one on the right was extremely tall, and her lips had been painted black as licorice. But they were both still almost identical. Absurd wasp waists, wide, curvaceous hips, and bewitching smiles as they beamed at him and Bobbin.

“Bobbi!” squealed the medium-height Thriae, leaping to her feet and rushing toward Bobbin to grab the hob in a tight hug. Senya was started by the desperation of her charge, but the hob made no move to avoid this attempt. Senya watched as she started kissing Bobbin’s neck. “Oh my gosh—mm—I gotta—mmluup—love you baby—“

The other one sprang up as well. She did not charge, though Senya saw her rubbing her legs together nervously. “H-hi, Bobbi,” she said, giggling nervously. “You, like, look super hot. Almost as big a bimbo as us!”

Senya looked at Bobbin confusedly. “Why—” he started to hiss, but Bobbin put a finger to his lips.

“Thriae are smart,” she repeated. “Except when they’re horny. But if they’re horny all the time and keep seducing the humans, well, the humans end up with mead addictions, which is terrible for business.“

“Mm...” The tall Thriae could apparently hold off no longer, because she was masturbating right in front of them now, clumsily pulling her pencil skirt up to access underneath. “S-so hot,” she whimpered.

“So,” Bobbi went on, “we installed a trigger where they get hornier the closer they get to me. It gives us a way to shut their minds down—mm, a bit lower, baby—” She wriggled as the Thriae started kissing at her breasts. Senya was amazed at her self-control—she maintained steady eye contact with him all the while. “The worst thing they can do is tackle me, and mead addiction is different for fey.“

“Worst we can do?” The Thriae who had tackled her giggled, pulling back and putting a finger on Bobbin’s lips.“You have gotta love it, babe, ’cause we’ve been doing this for a long time and you visit almost every day!

Senya raised an eyebrow at Bobbin, who flushed pink. “Irrelevant. We’re here for business, not pleasure.

“Always a pleasure with you, Bobbi,” the tall one sighed.

“So much pleasure,” moaned the third.

“Ugh. Flatterers.” Bobbin chuckled. “Alright, everyone sit down. I’ll go get Sylvia so you two sluts have a chance to think straight.” She gestured to Senya and winked.

Senya blinked. ”Um...“

She patted Senya on the shoulder as she walked past. “They’re ordered not to use hypnosis to get sex—otherwise, I’d be their number-one toy by now. Just don’t let them put sweetener in your tea. You want it black or not at all.”

And with that, she hurried off.

And Senya was left alone with two of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. Both of whom were flushed, slightly glowing with sweat, and breathing heavily as if they’d both just achieved screaming orgasms.

“Want some tea?” cooed the Thriae on the left; the shorter one.

“We can make some,” said the one on the right, grinning.

Senya coughed. “Um... yeah. Why don’t I prep us all some tea?” They looked disappointed, so he added, “And you can tell me your names!”

“Maculata,” said the tall one. “But call me Culata. Um, or Mac?” She put a finger to her lips, apparently thinking hard.

“You silly slut,” the other one teased. “You, like, totes forgot your own name! I’m Vespula. Call me Lala, though, babe!” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Senya started rooting around in the kitchen and found a kettle. “You got it. Lala and Lata.”

This set off a streak of giggles.

“Ooh,” he heard Lata whisper, “I’m gonna enjoy him.”

His hand gave an involuntary twitch as he grabbed a pot of tea leaves and sifted through it briefly, making sure it was just tea leaves. “What’s that?” he asked, looking back.

“I said I like you!” she repeated, beaming and fluttering her eyelashes.

“Me too,” moaned Lala, pinching a nipple through her breast and smiling at him.

“Do you, like, like us?” they asked simultaneously, giggling.

Senya hoped Bobbi wouldn’t take too long.

But with the way she’d looked at Sylvia earlier, he had a bad feeling.

* * *