THE HONEY TRAP
“You’re just getting so silly, aren’t you? So silly and sleepy. Such a sweet boy...”
“Would you stop that?” Alrek scowled down at the large champagne bottle strapped to his belt. It was glowing a pale pink, and the lights spiraling inside—and the contorting, writhing body—were almost hypnotic.
“You never want me to stop,” a resonant voice inside whispered. “You wanna be a good, silly, horny—YEEK!”
Well, not almost. He gave the bottle a little shake, causing the wicked bubble sprite to go bouncing around, bonking off of the sides. She glared at him through the thick, hypnosis-dampening glass.
“I said, stop it,” Alrek snapped.
“We could’ve been getting along a lot better this whole journey if you talked like that from the get-go.”
She pouted. “Well, can you blame me for trying?”
Alrek chewed his inner cheek. “Considering you’re being sent to this ‘Verdant Ward’ place because you kept trying to brainwash people... yeah, I think so. That’d make sense, right?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. She was a tiny thing, barely larger than an average fairy—hence the ‘celebration-sized’ champagne bottle. She was slender and pale, with a mane of bright wavy red hair done up in a massive topknot. Tall, too—maybe eight inches. Her eyes smoldered a deep purple thanks to the red glass and the pink glow. They were naturally blue, Alrek was pretty sure, and just a bit too large to be proportional. Sparkles hung around her in the bottle, like moths around a lamp.
Alrek couldn’t wait to be done with this quest. Not that he had any problem with the Wild Continent in general, but every fey he met seemed to expect him to know the customs, and he did not speak even a smattering of the local tongues. Every fey he met also seemed to expect him to fuck them, and though they weren’t usually inclined to push the issue, the social anxiety this inflicted was only slightly preferable to the risk of being brainwashed.
“You can be as pissed as you like,” he said, patting the bottle and continuing through the bamboo forest. “But brainwash a barmaid, you go to the Ward. Seems like a simple, uh, cause-and-effect to me.”
“Fuck off. If I weren’t in this bottle, I’d be brainwashing the shit out of you.”
Alrek snorted. “You’re, what, two inches tall?”
“I’m eight and a half inches!” she snarled, incensed. “And you wouldn’t be laughing if I were able to cover you in sparkles... spiraling, sparkling, catching your eyes... ooh, sinking... sinking...”
Alrek rolled his eyes. “You’re hypnotizing yourself off the reflections in the glass again.
There was a pause.
“I knew that.”
“Is this really the place?” Alrek wasn’t asking Verre, of course. Just thinking aloud as he studied the great silver gates—currently open, conveniently. “I was expecting, like, a dungeon, or some kinda miserable castle.”
He strode inside, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble. The Verdant Ward was apparently prison to countless mischievous fey, and though they were somewhat controlled here, he was given to understand that the main controls were the two Wardens who kept them in line. How they did so he wasn’t sure.
He made his way past a few tall hazelnut trees to a small, pleasant-looking house, and knocked at the door.
“Maybe they’re not home,” Verre said, sounding a bit too eager. “Maybe they’re out. Better leave me by the doorstep and, um...”
“Yeah, sure.” Alrek rolled his eyes. He’d been warned very firmly about his prisoner’s eagerness to be left unattended. If someone wasn’t aware of her tricks, and wasn’t as strong-willed as Alrek happened to be, they would be easy enough to trick into staring into Verre’s eyes. And she’d be free pretty damn quickly after that.
They waited in silence.
Alrek knocked again and waited.
“Huh.” Verre sounded surprised.” Maybe they’re not home.”
“Shut up.” Alrek knocked again, louder.
After fifteen minutes of Alrek growing increasingly impatient—and Verre growing increasingly insistent—Alrek began to suspect that they weren’t home.
He sat down on the steps, resting one hand on the bottle on his hip to hide Verre from view. Well, shit. He didn’t like complications, but now things were getting complicated. He had a few choices.
He could wait here and hope somebody showed up. He didn’t like that choice, but it was probably the safest.
He could leave. Not really an option—he wasn’t getting paid if he didn’t complete the delivery, and there was no way he was leaving a creature as dangerous as Verre unattended.
Or he could look around for the Wardens. This wasn’t a great option, but it might get him out of here faster, especially if he was careful and sneaky.
Alrek chewed his inner cheek. No. Better to wait.
Alrek waited about two hours, and the sun was getting low in the sky when he stood up. “Okay, screw it.”
He didn’t want to be here after dark; he knew that much. All sorts of fey could sneak up on him in the dark, and the Ward held all sorts of fey who would. He’d heard they even had a particularly weak umbra hag in custody nowadays, and as far as he knew, most of the ‘prisoners’ were essentially free range. Alrek looked around, squinting against the dim light.
There was a cottage atop a hill he’d noticed earlier. Maybe, despite appearances, that was where the Wardens lived.
He started walking, ignoring the tune Verre had begun to hum.
Alrek was already on his guard when he saw a pretty blonde sitting next to the cottage door, playing with three elaborately-carved tops. She stared at the tops, seemingly spellbound. When she looked up at him, and her face split into a wide grin, and he noticed the deep gold of her eyes—and the gossamer wings just barely visible fluttering behind her back—he took a step back.
Thriae. Honey fey. Sometimes referred to as ‘meadbrewers’. Even in the Wild East, the Thriae were a rapacious, fearsome species of conquerors—and they didn’t conquer through bloodshed. They were known as brilliant, cunning, manipulative, arrogant...
“Hi!” she said excitedly, eyes still slightly out of focus. She rose to her feet, swaying slightly. “S-So good to see you again, um... Master.”
“Ooh, look,” Verre cooed. “Those tops have spirals on ’em. I bet she’s been hypnotizing herself. What a good girl!”
“Uh-huh!” Sylvia blinked, then nodded rapidly. “Yes, Mistress. Sylvia has been good. Sylvia loves it here. Mm...”
“Are they all like this?” Alrek muttered. “Or is this just a her thing?”
Sylvia giggled. “Ummm... uh-huh!”
“Sylvia,” Verre said softly, musically. “Syyylvia.”
“Ooh.” Sylvia’s eyelids fluttered. “H-Hi, Mistress. You’re, like... so... sparkly...”
“I know I am,” Verre said smugly. “Listen, do you wanna be a g—“
Alrek placed a hand over the bottle and waved it until Sylvia’s eyes lost some of that bubble sprite glaze. “Sylvia, do you know where the Wardens are?”
“Mm...” Sylvia nodded dreamily, smiling up at him. “Ooh. I thought you were Senya. Hee!” She beamed. “Like, it’d be pretty bad if I tried to brainwash you the way we like to brainwash him. Heehee.” She kicked her feet idly, causing her short blue skirt to ride up a little. “You don’t even look like him. All rough and strong, right?”
“...Okay. So where is the Warden?”
“Um...” Sylvia put a finger to her lips, clearing thinking hard, struggling to shake off the lingering trance. “Gosh, I dunno. Ooh!” Her eyes lit up, and she drew a slip of paper and quill out of gods-knew-where. She pressed the tip of the quill to her tongue and started to write.
“What is she doing?” Alrek muttered.
“Dunno, Snatch,” Verre said. “She seems battier than a belfry to me, but—”
“Here!” Sylvia rolled the slip up and whistled a few short notes.
A message bird dropped out of the sky and perched on her hand. She beamed at the creature, tucked the slip of paper into a little pocket strapped to its leg, and sent it flying back into the air. Sylvia clapped her hands happily, then turned to face Alrek with a big smile.
“We have message birds now!” she said, redundantly. “Birdy’s, like, um, gonna go get the Wardens.” She clasped her hands together in her lap, bouncing slightly in place. “While we wait for Senya and Kitten to arrive, though, you wanna come inside?”
Alrek grimaced. “I don’t...”
He glanced behind him, and noticed how close the sun was to setting. A faint whistling reached him over the fields and bamboo forests.
“This place is wild,” he muttered. Louder, he said, “Fine. Let’s go inside.”
“Yay!” She opened the door and bounced through, beckoning for him to follow. Still wary, but preferring the devil he knew, Alrek followed.
Inside, the cottage was surprisingly—and suspiciously—roomy. Alrek followed Sylvia into a split room, with a counter dividing a quaint little kitchen from a cozy living room area. A fireplace crackled behind the very soft-looking armchair. He noticed Sylvia trying to steer him towards that chair, and pointedly did not sit.
“Such a nice home you have,” Verre said, her tone sly and calculated.
“Aw, thanks!” Sylvia beamed at the jar, her eyes sparkling with delight. “You’re such a sweetie, Miss—ooh, sorry, what was your name?”
“Mistress is fine!” Verre chirped.
As she and Sylvia giggled and chattered, Alrek studied his surroundings intently. It was a very nice place, somewhat reminiscent of a goblin maid’s home in the... well, homeyness of it. The fire cast a warm glow over everything—it was somewhat strange, as Alrek didn’t recall seeing a chimney when he’d approached the house. The kitchen seemed well-stocked, if cramped. The far wall had three doors, all shut.
He could swear he heard sounds coming from one of those doors... faint gasps, whines, moans... wet sounds...
Sensing someone had moved very close, Alrek turned and jumped. Sylvia was standing right behind him, her eyes big and gold, a big, happy smile on her pretty face. For a moment, Alrek struggled to ward off any hypnotic effect reaching his mind.
Then he realized she was beaming at... Verre.
“That’s right,” Verre said, her tone as conversational as ever, “it’s nice to just, you know, sink deeper and deeper...”
“Deeper!” Sylvia giggled and nodded eagerly, her tone also still conversational and bubbly. But her eyes spoke of a very deep struggle taking place within her—one the Thriae was losing handily. One she was perhaps eager to forfeit.
Alrek waved a hand hurriedly in front of the bottle, disrupting Sylvia’s gaze. Sylvia blinked, looking almost disappointed. “Okay, that’s enough of that. How long until—”
He was cut off as Sylvia thrust a hot mug into his hands, nimbly taking his fingers and wrapping them around the handle before he had time to respond. She patted his hand and smiled brightly up at him. “Hey, like, can I interest you in a drink?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. Her lips were very plump and full, Alrek noted uncomfortably.
“No, thanks.” Alrek set the mug down on the coffee table. Sylvia was way within his personal space, so he took a step back, reluctantly sitting on the couch. From her sparkling eyes, he couldn’t shake the sense that was exactly what she had wanted. “I don’t drink anything a Thriae hands me. No offense.”
“Ooh.” Sylvia blinked. “How come? Like, oh my gosh, Thriae drinks are just the best.” She started to move as if to sit next to Alrek, and he blocked her with his leg and a glare. She was totally unfazed, though. Alrek had a sneaking suspicious she had never left the pleasure-trance they’d found her in.
“How much honey did you put in that milk?”
Sylvia concealed a bashful grin. “Aw. Only a tablespoon or two!”
“Yeah, well, I’m not here to play around.” Alrek crossed his arms, staring the ditzy fey down. “I’m just here until—“
The nearby door clicked open, and the strong smell of musk and honey wafted out as two tall, impossibly curvy Thriae strode in, their hips swaying with every step, their hands running down their impossibly narrow waists—and each other’s. Unlike Sylvia, who wore only a short skirt and midriff-baring crop top, each wore thin white t-shirts and blue boyshorts that left... slightly more to the imagination.
They stopped short, seeing Alrek, and quickly stopped groping each other. “Ooh, Sylvia,” exclaimed one, her eyes widening, “you didn’t tell us we had company!”
“Yeah!” Sylvia clapped her hands together excitedly. “I didn’t wanna, like, interrupt you while you were havin’ fun. Don’t worry, though! I got him all happy for us!”
“No, she didn’t.” Alrek’s eyes narrowed. “I’m here to deliver this bubble sprite to the Warden. If this is going where I think it is, though, I’m just gonna leave and take my chances with whatever’s outside.”
“No, no!” One of the newcomer Thriae put her hands up quickly. “Like, we’re not gonna brainwash you. We aren’t allowed—Wardens would be, like, soooo disappointed in us.”
“Kitten might not even eat us out!” the other sulked. “Like, they can’t really resist us, but they can stop visiting if we’re naughty.” She glared. “Sylvia.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sylvia seemed to deflate slightly. “I forgot that’s how things run now. Stupid sexy Wardens.”
They turned back to Alrek, who, still sitting on the couch, was beginning to feel a little like a bug in a jar. The two Thriae newcomers bounced up, reaching out honey-slick hands to shake. “Pleased to meet you!” one of them said.
He ignored the hands. “Who are you people?”
They exchanged wry grins. “I’m, um, Lala,” said one, “and this is Lata. You gotta excuse Sylvi—she’s been denied her orgasm privileges until she stops trying to brainwash the Wardens.”
“Like, more than she’s s’posed to,” Lata said, winking. “It’s okay to play, but trying to hack the collar is naughty.” She glanced over, petting Sylvia’s head as Sylvia sat on the arm of the couch next to him. Alrek scooted away from her, but she seemed more intent on the champagne bottle, anyways.
“Great. So you’re all prisoners, right?” Alrek shifted slightly as Sylvia practically oozed into the seat next to him. He dimly heard Verre cooing at Sylvia, and realizing she was probably hypnotizing the Thriae again, he placed a hand on the bottle. But Sylvia didn’t seem to be doing anything just yet. And all of Verre’s chants seemed to mostly be about Sylvia playing with herself. Verre was just giving herself a show.
“I guess!” Lata giggled. She sat down on the couch opposite Alrek. “I mean, like, oh my gosh, it’s soooo much fun here!”
“The Wardens are so cute,” Lala purred, sitting beside Lata. “Sometimes we just like to push Kitten between our legs and hold her... juuust out of reach, and get her to beg to lick us out. We love it when our playthings beg for us.” She glanced over, her fingers dancing along Lata’s inner thighs.
“Sometimes I like to just drip honey onto little Senya’s cock until he’s just, like, a total mess,” Lata said, licking her lips.
“Great. Wonderful.” Alrek snorted. “So not to tempt fucking fate here, but is there a reason you aren’t just using those wings right now to try to knock me out?”
They all giggled—even Sylvia, distantly, as she stroked herself rapidly in time with Verre’s whispers. Lata winked. “’Try’.”
Sylvia was starting to lean against Alrek, panting, staring at the bottle and its sparkling, spiraling captive. It seemed almost like she’d lost the ability to sit up straight.
“We aren’t allowed to thrum anymore,” Lala said sadly. “We aren’t allowed to brainwash anyone but the Wardens with those wings. We’re supposed to be, um, learning our lessons.”
They exchanged knowing giggles. Clearly, the Thriae didn’t think much of this effort, and didn’t mind it much, either.
Alrek gave a start. Sylvia was fully leaning against him now, rubbing her foot against his ankle. He glared at her and pulled his foot away, but she was actually very heavy, and her breasts pressed against his side as she stared in rapt attention at...
“That’s right,” he heard Verre purring. “That’s a good girl. And you’re just gonna hafta stroke faster, and faster...”
Alrek shoved Sylvia away, his head feeling strangely foggy. He rapped his knuckles against the bottle glass. “Cut it out!” he hissed at the bubble sprite.
Verre just stuck her tongue out, then grinned evilly, watching Sylvia lying belly-up on the couch and fingering herself helplessly. Verre’s own fingers were between her legs as she leered at the tranced Thriae.
“... so, yeah, it’s pretty fun,” Lala was saying, giggling. “Like, they give us this nice house, and a super nice bedroom...”
“Ooh, yeah,” Lata cooed, beaming, “the bed’s really soft!”
“I think it’s got goosefeather in it.”
“Isn’t there fleece sprite wool?”
“No, no, the wool is in the pillows.”
“Wasn’t it fleece sprite wool once?”
“Hm. I dunno! That sounds familiar.” Lala frowned. “Ooh, wait, we’re thinking of the blankets! We used to have those nice blankets. Oh my gosh, I’m such a bimbo.”
“You’re just dumb when you’re horny,” Lata teased, kissing her neck tenderly. “Dumb girl.”
“You’re a... a... dumb slutty-slut.” Lala giggled faintly as Lata continued to kiss.
Alrek shook his head. Their babble was making him tired, and he regretted getting a bad night’s sleep the other night. The air was so heavy here, and he dimly remembered that there had been a window... hadn’t there? He couldn’t see it now. It was awfully smokey in here, though.
He shook himself again as Lala and Lata went on bantering about something—complimenting each other’s breasts in low, flirtatious tones. How round they were. How full. Heaving. Bouncy.
He realized he was staring at Sylvia’s breasts as she wriggled and bounced in her seat.
“Like, they’re so cute!” Lala was cooing, running her hands over Lata’s shirt. “So perky when you touch them. When you kiss them.”
Lata giggled. “That’s ’cause they wanna be sucked on, silly.”
“Ooh. I loooove suckling!”
“Oh my gosh, me too! Especially on your nipples. Like, they’re so cute! So perky...”
Alrek licked his lips, staring at Sylvia. It felt like it would be so easy—so wonderfully simple—to just lie facedown in those breasts, to fasten his lips to a nipple and just...
He took in a deep breath, again wondering why he hadn’t seen a chimney on the way in. His head swam and buzzed. Sylvia looked so wet, and warm... so sweet...
It would be so, so easy... to drink...
Alrek gave a start, realizing he held in his hands the same mug Sylvia had given him earlier. And he was holding it up to his lips. It smelled creamy. Sickeningly sweet. Intoxicating.
He blinked, staring down at her as she smiled eagerly up at him and bounced her breasts together. The motion almost sent his mind back into the oozing place, but he shook himself roughly and emptied the drink onto the floor.
This got Lala’s and Lata’s attention, and they gave little sounds of upset at this. “Aw, you made a mess!” Lala scowled. Lata, who had been inches from suckling Lala’s tit through the shirt, pulled back, red-faced.
“Yeah,” Alrek growled, standing up, “I think this has, uh...” He swayed slightly before righting himself. “This has gone on long enough. I’m done. We’re gonna...”
He patted his belt, and felt nothing there.
Alrek spun and saw Sylvia, smiling blissfully as she held the bottle between her breasts and struggled to open it. Her tongue was half-sticking out of the corner of her mouth in her effort.
He reached down and snatched the bottle from her, resting one hand against the back of the couch to help himself stay steady as he straightened again.
“You,” he hissed at Verre, “are only making this worse.”
Verre, still stroking herself, spared one hand to send him a rude gesture, her eyes heavy-lidded and her lips pouting in disappointment.
“Oh, but you can’t leave yet!” Lala giggled. “You’ve gotta wait here for the Wardens!”
“Yeah, fuck that.” Alrek started around the coffee table. At first, he went left, but Lala and Lata moved to intercept him, so he went right—towards the armchair. Alrek had an uneasy feeling of deja vu.
“Okay, but we already sent them the message,” Lata said, shrugging, “so, like, this is where they’re coming.”
“You’ve gotta wait here,” Lala insisted. “Just until they get here!”
Alrek hesitated. He stood at one end of the table, staring the eager Thriae down. He knew they were full of shit, but they were blocking the way.
And the Wardens would be here soon. They could help him out of any trouble these Thriae tried to get him into. They might not be able to back him up if he wandered outside and got picked off by something more mobile. He had to stay in one place.
“You’ve gotta stay here,” burbled a weak voice, and he looked down to see Sylvia beaming up at him, stroking her pussy with two fingers and pinching her nipples with the other hand. She was biting her lip as honey leaked from of her nipples, her pussy, and her drooling lips.
Verre had really done a number on her. She reeked of sex and sweetness.
“Fine,” he muttered, swallowing as he looked back to Lala and Lata. He took a step back. “I’ll... just wait here until they get here.”
“Of course!” Lata and Lala said at once, then giggled at their synchronicity. Alrek watched Sylvia intently, but she didn’t react. It was like she hadn’t even heard him, so intense was her non-orgasm. He watched her squeeze her breasts, her eyes squeezing shut in tormented bliss.
Lala and Lata were on either side of him, easing him back as he watched Sylvia whimper and writhe. As he sank into the armchair, he noticed Lala and Lata exchange wicked grins. He sank back, still clutching the warm bottle. He felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. In his head.
“Mmm...” Lala tried to plant a kiss on him, and he barely lurched away in time to avoid it. He was moving slower than normal. His whole mind seemed to be... thickening. Relaxing. Oozing. “That’s right, honey. Just stay here and... relax for us.”
“Isn’t it funny,” Lata breathed, “how good it feels to sink? Like you’re sinking into nice, soft blankets... smooth, soft, round pillows...”
The scents in the air were getting thicker, muskier, like perfumed sweet smoke. Alrek was getting sleepier, more confused, more certain that this was not good and more uncertain as to what could bad about these two beautiful women running their hands over him and kissing him.
Alrek felt himself sinking into the comfortable armchair and dimly noticed the Thriae all giggling—and Verre, too, he heard her wicked, musical laugh—as he wondered why the three fey seemed to be growing hotter and hotter.
“Niiiice, soft blankets,” Lala cooed in his ear. “Feels soooo good...”
Alrek shook his head, struggling with all his might to rise. But he could feel the magic of the chair already at work, sending his whole body to sleep. He might as well have lain down in quicksand.
“So good to siiiink,” Lata whispered into his other ear. “Ooh, that’s good, isn’t it? That’s a good boy.”
Alrek was taking shallow breaths now, trying not to think about what they were about to do to him. It had been a trap. And though he’d thought he would be ready for it, he hadn’t been. His only hope now was to wait for the Wardens to arrive. At least he’d seen Sylvia send the bird out.
The same bird that... was now perched on his knee, looking up at him quizzically. The parchment was still tied to its leg.
And then Sylvia was kneeling between his legs, dismissing the bird, giggling up at him. “Aw, he’s back!” she burbled, running her hands over his legs—still clothed, thankfully.
That was less of a relief as the Thriae started to climb into his lap, her skirt already slipped down to the floor. She held the roll of parchment, beaming at him. “I guess the Wardens didn’t like my letter. Wanna see what I wrote?”
Alrek watched as she unfurled the paper to reveal...
A strikingly high-quality drawing of a blurry-faced man—unmistakably Alrek—sitting in an armchair, with a cartoonish version of Sylvia bouncing in his lap. The real Sylvia giggled as his eyes traveled slowly to the man’s face. He was sucking on Sylvia’s index finger, as honey dripped from her hand.
“Naaaughty Sylvia,” purred Lala, “teasing the Warden so.”
Sylvia cooed and wriggled, clearly overwrought at Lala’s teasing tone. Alrek shivered as her hips ground against his imprisoned cock.
She noticed this, unfortunately. “Aw! Poor boytoy!” She leaned in close. “Am I neglecting you?” Her eyes were as bright as fireflies.
Alrek noticed her hands sneaking towards the bottle and gripped it tightly. He couldn’t hear what Verre was doing, but it sounded suspiciously like she was laughing her ass off at all of this. Damn her.
He tried to shove Sylvia away, as he had done before, but then he felt two warm, curvaceous bodies slide into the chair next to him, Lala on his left, Lata on his right. They pressed against him tightly, restraining his arms as their fingers slipped beneath his shirt and armor and started toying with the straps.
“No,” he muttered, as his cock throbbed at the strong, thick scent of honey and musk. The thought of what Lala and Lata had been doing mere minutes ago to make the smell this powerful made him feel faint inside. Or maybe that was the thick smoke from the chimneyless fire, which, he vaguely realized, probably wasn’t burning ordinary wood at all.
“Shh, sweetie,” murmured Lala, nibbling his earlobe. “We’re gonna have so much fun with you!”
“You’ll love it,” Lata agreed, gently unbuttoning his shirt to leave his chest exposed. “We’re gonna make you love it. Sweeties always love it. Isn’t that right, Sylvia?”
“Mm-hmmm...” Sylvia had a blissful smile on her face as she stared into Alrek’s eyes. Lala and Lata were taller than him, and though Sylvia was a bit shorter, she was able to loom over him while in his lap. Alrek looked up at the three, and at Sylvia’s ripe, sweet-smelling, glistening breasts—almost at eye-level—and his breath caught in his throat. “Feels sooooo good to just do as we say.”
Her fingers played over his, still gripping the bottle. He tightened his grip. “F-Fuck off,” he managed.
They just giggled as his shirt slipped off, and Lala and Lata started running their slick, sticky hands over his chest, easing the honey into his skin. Alrek was starting to feel tingly, and his head...
“Stop it,” he panted, and tried to push their hands away. They only laughed.
Then they started to kiss him.
They were loud, wet, messy kisses—the sorts of kisses where half the idea was the humiliating, overwhelming adoration being lavished on him. Lata kissed his neck tenderly, cooing wordless pleasure and praise. Lala’s lush lips planted honeyed kiss after kiss on his face—and when he tried to lean away from her, they only giggled and switched roles, Lala kissing and licking his neck while Lata blanketed his face in kisses.
They were smothering him in kisses, only pausing to purr, “Good boy,” and “Let it all slip away, sweetie,” every now and again. And all the while, Sylvia bounced her breasts in front of him, beaming innocently as her finger played along a nipple. Her ass ground against his cock, and it was all he could do not to cum in his pants right there.
He knew if he came like that, he would be lost. They would relish his embarrassment, even as they stripped from him the capacity to feel anything but joy at the thought of cumming in his pants for them. Oh, it would feel so... humiliating... how they would squeal with glee...
Sylvia’s breasts jiggled enticingly. Alrek could almost swear he could hear the honey sloshing around within. So sweet. So heavy and gooey.
His mouth watered as he watched her tits, his whole head buzzing. He licked his lips, and suddenly realized that she was swaying back and forth slightly—and he was swaying without even thinking about it. Without... even. Thinking.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Follow the nipple. Follow the sweet, beautiful breast as it swung before his eyes.
He only dimly noticed as Sylvia rose upward slightly, because at the same time she bounced her breasts together, and he was lost in the sight.
At the same time, he felt his trousers slipping down to his ankles, and a strange feeling of gratitude swelled within him. It was so kind of his Mistresses to ensure he wouldn’t have to cum for them in his pants.
Alrek blinked. What a... humiliating thought.
Anger surged in him. As Sylvia was lowering back down to resume her lapdance, he tore his arms free from the soft vises of his two kissing captors and shoved her off. She fell to the floor with an, “Ooh!”
He sprang to his feet, and swayed so badly he nearly fell right back down. Gripping the bottle tightly, he
Sparkles and bubbles danced in front of his eyes. Spiraled. Spun. Several bubbles popped right in his face, and something in his head popped, too.
‘That’s right,” whispered a familiar voice smugly, as Verre rose into view, dancing on one of the larger bubbles. She smiled at him, her red eyes shining brilliantly. “Didn’t I tell you how pretty my sparkles are? Don’t they just...” She gave a twirl. “... spiiiiin out of control?”
Alrek swayed. He tried to close his eyes, but the spiraling sparkles held him, dazzled him. Verre smirked as Alrek, dressed in only his underwear, swayed back and forth, forward and backward...
Sylvia rose back up, smiling at him as her eyes reflected the spirals. Alrek felt the soft hands of Lala and Lata taking him by the wrists as Sylvia turned and rubbed her body against his, easing him back, grinding her hips into his groin.
“Isn’t she pretty?” she whispered, as his whole body tingled with the effects of minor honey exposure, as he felt how wet Sylvia was through his undergarments. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Nnuh...” Alrek whimpered as he was eased back into the chair. He sank deep, deep, deep as Verre flew around his and Sylvia’s head, captivating both of them with her whispered words, her endless spirals and sparkles and pretty, popping bubbles and pretty, pretty eyes...
Alrek’s head was spinning, spiraling, lost. How had... how had Verre...
He managed to look numbly down at the bottle in his hands.
It was a different bottle. A bottle with a little image engraved on the surface of a... a very sapphic flower dripping with nectar.
It was a bottle of distilled Thriae mead. And judging by the warmth, it was freshly brewed.
The meadbrewers had swapped Verre’s spelled prison with a bottle of drugged honey. And he had never felt so thirsty.
Sylvia giggled and started to wriggle in his lap again. Alrek moaned, helplessly close to climax. It was like Sylvia knew exactly how to bring him to the edge and keep him there, and he shuddered with unwanted pleasure every time she brought him to the edge and then slowed her lapdance to slow, subtle squirming.
“S-Stop...” he gasped.
Sylvia smiled right into his eyes as Lala and Lata planted loud, wet kisses on both of them. Her eyes glowed with amber light in the dim, intimate candlelight. Her hand took his, still holding the bottle.
“You just need to get a little sweeter,” she cooed, as she raised the bottle up to his lips. As he raised the bottle, her hand encouraged him, stroking his, easing him closer and closer.
“Sweet boys drink deep,” Lala moaned in one ear, licking his neck.
“Sweet boys cum lots,” Lata purred into his other ear, punctuating her words with a long, wet kiss on the cheek.
Alrek didn’t remember putting the bottle to his lips. Surely Sylvia had done that. Even though Sylvia’s hand was back to toying with her nipple. Surely Sylvia had made him somehow, tricked him. It felt as though she could trick him into doing whatever she wanted right now. She might be a ditz, but he... he couldn’t...
He didn’t remember putting the bottle to his lips, but as sweet, toxic mead coursed down his throat, and his head started to buzz pleasurably, the sweetness of the Thriae’s praise poured into him like the thickest, sugariest syrup. Sylvia’s wriggles began to become more pronounced, taking on an unbearable rhythm as he started to moan.
He kept drinking, lost in the wonderful taste, in the heady sensations of sensitivity. Everything around him seemed to be glowing. He had never known that he had a preference for blondes, but right now, Alrek knew he would do anything if one of these honey-haired goddesses would plant even a single finger on his bare cock.
And when the bottle was empty, and Lala was taking the bottle away, and when Sylvia was holding out a dripping index finger with a wide smile... Oh, Alrek could do nothing but part his lips and moan as he started to suck on her finger like a good boy.
And he knew he was a good boy. Part of Alrek glowed with pride as they lavished praise and kisses in equal quantities. He knew they were just keeping him dumb and confused with all these kisses and “good boy”s and licks and “there’s our sweet boy”s, but he couldn’t... muster the thought... to make them stop. Or to want them to stop.
He was covered in their kisses, covered with their honey. As Sylvia gave him another honey-slick finger to suck on, beaming and encouraging him to take his “medicine”, he didn’t even think about it as his mouth opened wide to suck on a new target. His eyes drank in the sight of her jiggling, perfect breasts greedily, longing for her to give the order, longing to drink her deep...
The fingers finally pulled out, with a wet popping sound, and Alrek went red at their squeals of laughter at how eager he was.
He felt Lata take his head and rotate it, and could only stare helplessly into her shining golden eyes as she came in for a kiss right on the lips.
He drowned in her taste, in her tongue, in her lips. She moaned against him, and his whole mind spun out of control. He couldn’t resist. Couldn’t even try.
As Lala took him and drowned him in her own kiss, Alrek felt ecstasy welling inside him, and he started to whine. He was so close to cumming. So close to losing it all.
And he was having trouble remembering whether that was a bad thing. It felt so, so good. So sweet. So easy to sink.
“Stop,” he managed, which only seemed to get Sylvia to bounce faster. “Please, please... stop...”
“Aww.” Lala kissed him sweetly. “You don’t want us to stop.”
“You want us to milk you,” Lata cooed stroking one of his nipples with a dripping finger, “into a sticky, drippy mess.”
“You want to be a silly, happy bimbo,” Verre sang.
“You wanna cuuum,” Sylvia cooed. Her gravity-defying breasts bounced. “Cum, cum, cum!”
Alrek’s breath caught, and held. He stared helplessly as pleasure boiled, roiled, bubbled to the surface...
He felt so good, so sweet and sticky, so dumb and horny...
The spirals were all around him, bathing him in submission, in brainwashing magic, drawing his eyes in endless circles as the Thriae smiled happily, triumphantly, enjoying their newest toy...
The air was so musky and sweet, so smoldering and heady and hot, it was so, so hot...
Sylvia’s ass felt so good bouncing in his lap, Lala and Lata felt so good caressing his bare, tingling chest, giving him endless brainwashing kisses to overwhelm him with their poisonous honey...
And as Sylvia’s breasts fully captivated his mind, Alrek whimpered, “Please.”
Sylvia blinked big, oblivious eyes at him. “What was that, sweetie?”
“Please,” he whined, unable to hold himself back now that the dam had burst. “Please, let... lemme...” He leaned forward, but Sylvia giggled and pulled back, just out of reach.
“What is it, boy?” Lata cooed, pinching his nipple gently.
“What are you trying to tell us?” Lala whispered, tickling his underarms until he cried out, bringing his arms back to his sides to be trapped once more.
“What do you want?” Sylvia cooed, as she bounced rhythmically.
Over her shoulder, Verre gave him a triumphant grin. She had won, almost. All she was waiting for now was for him to... to...
“Suckle!” Alrek cried, losing himself completely to his need. “Please, please—please, just—just let me suckle!”
The Thriae were giggling openly, great peals of laughter. Alrek endured their teasing with a buzzing brain and an empty mind.
Sylvia cupped her breast, biting her lip, and for a moment he thought she was going to tease him with it.
But she looked almost as horny as he felt as she just whispered, “You’re ours now,” and guided his mouth to her nipple.
And as he began to suckle, perfect, overwhelming sweetness filled his head, and he was cumming in his underwear, and Sylvia was clutching him as Lala and Lata drowned him in mocking praise, and his eyes closed on Verre’s smug, wicked grin. Pleasure consumed his mind after that, and Alrek lost himself to the orgasm. Lost himself to Sylvia’s tits, to her sweet, consuming nectar.
He never wanted to think about anything else.
“... and so we just wondered if you’d seen anything,” Senya finished, staring intently at the ceiling as Lata and Lala smiled at him. He bit his lip, trying very hard not to look into their eyes, so pretty and glimmery and gold. He and Valina had a lot of work to do today, especially with this missing delivery.
He tried even harder not to look at Valina. When they had invited her to sit down in the living room, she hadn’t even thought before obliging (because she couldn’t, they would never let Kitten do something so silly as think)—only to have Lata and Lala sit on either side of her and easily, smoothly, and dangerously casually start fingerfucking her and giving her honeyed kisses.
She was currently moaning and mewing, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips parted, totally lost to the pleasure. Senya, Warden of the Verdant Ward, had to fight very hard not to look at her. Think about how good she probably felt right now. Think about how happy Lala and Lata would be if he joined her.
“Well, like, gosh.” Lata put a finger to her lips. “I wish we could help you, Senya! But we haven’t seen anyone.”
“Maybe ask Sylvia if you see her,” Lala said with a sly grin. “You know how naughty she’s been lately. I think I saw her out by the vineyard.”
Senya’s cheeks colored. He had a feeling they were just saying that in the hopes that he would run afoul of Scarlet and Tricin. Those two delighted in pushing him and Kitten to the limits of what the wards allowed, just for the fun of it. Last time, he and Kitten had spent a whole day and night at their beck and call. He and Valina tried to keep visits to the grape fields to a minimum when they were this busy.
But now he would have to check. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate it. This delivery is, um, super important. And it’s running late.” Realizing he was repeating himself, he shook his head. I really should have... asked them to tamp down the amber fire before we came in. Silly. He smiled vacantly.
Lala and Lata smiled back, helping Valina to her feet and guiding her around the coffee table to spill into Senya’s arms. Senya stared into the catgirl’s bedroom eyes and felt her fingers stroking him, felt her purring against his chest.
“Well, we’re like, so sorry we couldn’t help you.” Lata cooed, as they helped him and Valina to their feet—even as Valina started humping his leg, giving little high-pitched squeals.
“Super sorry,” Lala agreed, as they were steered toward the door.
“Come back soon!” they chimed as one, as Senya and Valina were unceremoniously deposited outside in the grass.
Senya gasped as Valina grinned, rising atop of him, her eyes shining with predatory glee as her pussy lined up with his cock. For a moment, Senya hoped Valina would recover enough sense with the fresh air to...
“Mew!” Kitten said happily, and started to bounce in his lap, to ride him stupid.
As she did so, Senya couldn’t help but think the Thriae had been awfully quick to get rid of them.
And soon neither Warden were able to think at all for a little while.
As Lala and Lata closed the door, they exchanged sly grins, and a little rewarding kiss.
“Such a silly boy,” Lala purred, sauntering towards the bedroom door.
“Such a silly girl,” Lala agreed, following after.
They glanced behind them, ensuring that nobody else followed. But they both knew that as honeyed up as Kitten was right now, there was no way they were going to be overheard. She and Senya were going to be good little Wardens and fuck like bunnies for a while.
Lala opened the bedroom door and entered. Lata followed as a high-pitched squeal rang out.
Sylvia sat atop the great bed, moaning, crying out, as beneath her the human they had opted to call ‘Sweetie’ suckled hungrily at her breast and pounded up helplessly into her. Helplessness was written in his eyes, his wordless whines. Oh, he was such a good, good boy now. As he came again, he let out a moan and switched breasts.
Sylvia, of course, still wasn’t allowed to cum, and her face was beet-red as she let out another cry at anther ruined orgasm.
The bubble sprite Verre danced around them, giggling. She shot Lala and Lata a delighted, flirty look as she sent sparkle after sparkle into Sweetie’s empty, silly head.
“Put him down, Sylvia,” Lala said, smiling broadly.
Sylvia whimpered, and at first refused, but a few spirals from Verre quickly changed her mind. Alrek was forced to release her breast, and his head sank back onto fleece sprite wool pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, dazzled and drugged, as Lala and Lata came to sit beside him.
Lata leaned in, running a hand over his chest. “Enjoying yourself, Sweetie?” she cooed.
Sylvia continued to roll her hips as Lala leaned in close. “Cumming nice and fast?” she said sweetly.
He was panting. “Y-You can’t... won’t...”
Lala and Lata exchanged looks of pure glee. It was so much fun to have a toy who put up a fight! The magic of the Ward prevented them from really going to town on anyone these days, but with the help of Verre, who had not yet been initiated... ooh, with her help, they could have lots of fun.
They smiled down at him and planted twin kisses on his cheeks.
Then, as he watched, they procured identical little clay pitchers from behind their backs. His eyes widened with dread—and need. Ooh, he was so ready for the next step. So ready to be their helpless, sweet little addict.
“Open wide!” they cooed.
And as he struggled to resist, as they brought the mead closer and closer, they heard Verre whispering in his ear...
“You’re just getting so silly, aren’t you? So silly and sleepy. Such a sweet boy...”
He whimpered. His lips began to part.
Soon, Lala and Lata knew, grinning wickedly down at him, they would have him begging for this.