Intrepid Pawns Ch. 04

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Okino learns his fate, as Yathi learns what she has become.
7.6k words
4.65
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Part 4 of the 17 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 08/07/2015
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Note: This is the fourth installment of an ongoing series, so I suggest you go back and catch up if you haven't already.

This story contains elements of nonconsent, reluctance, drugged sex, lesbian sex, and mind control. It also contains no guarantee of a totally happy ending, so be warned.

"Oh! Oh, yes! Yes! Oooh, yeaaaAAAAAAAUGGH!"

Okino drifted back into consciousness. He tried to open his eyes, but his mind felt curiously . . . fuzzy. He found he couldn't muster the will for it. He tried to focus on his other senses, though they seemed to be afflicted by the same strange static.

He was lying on something incredibly soft. Moss? Pillows? He couldn't tell. He could hear screaming nearby. Someone was crying out. A woman. Her cries were not of pain.

It was very cold, but feeling something warm near him, he crawled closer. Whatever it was, it was soft and smooth, and slightly wet in places. But it was hot. He wrapped his arms around it, realizing it was a body. Part of him felt bothered by that. Most of him felt bothered in the right way. His brain struggled to parse the information, but it felt like thousands of little feathers were tickling all over each nerve. He just couldn't . . . couldn't . . .

The body let out a soft giggle. "Mm..." Arms snaked around his naked chest. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into two bright golden orbs. A smile played across amber lips. "Ready for more, big boy?" the pretty girl purred.

He stared blankly. The room smelled . . . funny. Sweet and smoky and . . . and . . .

The pretty girl pulled him over her and wrapped her legs around his hips. He stirred feebly, trying to remember. Where was . . . who was . . .

He felt his cock hardening fast as it slipped into her warmth. Her wetness. She smiled knowingly, leaning forward and taking him in a passionate kiss. His moan was drowned out as the nearby voice screamed again. She tasted sweet. He thrust his tongue in, tasting the sweetness. It reminded him of something. Something...

Laughing, the pretty girl broke the kiss and rolled over, putting him beneath her hot body. Whispering little nothings—at least, he assumed they were nothings, because he couldn't seem to be able to remember any of them after they entered his fuzzy head—she straddled him, rising up, pulling her wetness along his shaft. He gasped as he felt her wetness gliding upwards.

And then she came crashing down against him, a tidal wave of pleasure. He gasped as her moist walls contracted around his dick. He was so hard. So horny. He stared up at those beautiful eyes. They told him not to worry about anything. They told him to relax. Relax.

He felt himself going limp as she continued rising up and down. Limp and weak and sleepy in all but one area. His hips bucked upwards involuntarily each time she rose up, and each time he eagerly reentered her as she came down once more. She went up again and came down again, and up again and down again, and he just lay there, happily receiving the wonderful sensations. She was moaning, now, using him as her plaything despite his total inability to react. He started to moan with her. His mind was too scattered to understand why he felt so good. He just . . . did.

The pretty girl came down on him again, even faster than before. She started to vibrate, then tremble, then writhe and spasm. She pulled him up into a sitting position, kissing his lips, his neck, licking and tasting and devouring him as she squealed her ecstasy. And a moment later, he felt it too—a searing bolt of bliss erupting inside of him, like a volcano of hot, sweet syrup. He gasped and thrust into her embrace, feeling sticky honey covering his cock, feeling her delicious honey on her tongue, clouding his mind, filling him with sweetness and love for this glorious, perfect creature.

She climbed off his still ejaculating dick and leaped onto him, straddling his face. The back of his head hit the cushioned floor hard. It spun as she ground her drooling cunt against his mouth.

It took Okino a moment to realize he couldn't breathe. He started to struggle, his gasps of joy turning into gasps of fear, his excitement turning to panic. Then he tasted it. The same sweetness, but stronger, sweeter, making every nerve in his mouth tingle and scream. And he understood.

He started to lick, hearing her shriek and cry out as he licked that sweet pussy, sucked at those swollen lips, nibbled that wet little clit. He ate her to orgasm in what felt like scant seconds, and he licked up every last drop of the ambrosia that came out. She kept screaming, but he didn't stop. He needed more. More. She clutched his head, pushing him further into her, and he licked and lapped. He sucked her clit hungrily, nearly cumming himself at the merest residue of delicious Thriae honey.

Thriae. He paused. Why did that word sound familiar?

Behind him, he heard another scream. And then a crash. There was a moment of silence—even his pretty girl went quiet, though she kept right on fucking his face.

"Tut, tut," a woman said. "Now look what you've done, you silly slave. This is why you're too dumb to be on your own. You got so horny, you went and knocked over one of my spice racks."

"Mm . . . sorry, Mistress."

"Oh, now. What's this?" Okino heard footsteps. Smooth fingers came down upon his shoulder, squeezing lightly as he continued eating his pretty girl out. "Honestly, I leave you two alone for five minutes. Okino, you silly boy, you really shouldn't be eating any more of that. It's no good for you, you know. So much sugar." He felt a powerful force suddenly seize his arms, binding them to his sides. As if he could move them anyways. His head was still spinning. The pretty girl's pussy was wrested off of his still-licking tongue as she herself went flying out of sight.

He saw a pair of bright green eyes staring down at him. Those eyes belonged to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Ytheri.

His face, covered in Thriae honey, broke into a wide, stupid grin. "Ytheri," he whispered, his heart filling with adoration at the very sound of her name. "Ytheri." It felt so good to say her name. Everything about her felt good.

She gave him an indulgent smile back. "That's right," she cooed. She grasped his shoulder, pulling him up into a kneeling position. "Are you feeling better? You were so confused a few moments ago."

He shook his head, certain of only one thing. "I love you, Ytheri."

"Oh, Okino." She stroked his shoulder lovingly. With her other hand, she trailed a thumb over his face. She stuck it into his mouth. Tasting the honey on it, he sucked her thumb eagerly. "What ever am I going to do with you? I already have a psychopomp and a Thriae. They'll give me all the pleasure I could ever need, and they'll last for months, at least."

She pulled the thumb out with a plopping sound, cupping his chin in sharp-nailed fingers. "I don't need another sex toy. You're cute, but a human can only do . . . mm . . ." She wriggled her hips. "So much. You would not believe how good a psychopomp's tongue feels between your legs."

He blinked.

She winked. "Then again, you'd believe anything I told you, wouldn't you?" Before he could answer, she beckoned. "Follow me, Okino. Stay on your hands and knees—in fact, I think you're going to forget how to walk for a while." Her eyes glimmered with energy, and he couldn't even try to resist being drawn in. It felt so good to do as she willed. "It's just so hard to stand, and you're just so horny, how could you ever manage?"

He nodded. She patted his cheek. "So deliciously empty. I love it when my slaves are like this."

She turned and started walking. He crawled after. Okino could vaguely remember being able to walk once, but it just seemed so hard, looking back. It made him tired just thinking about it. And he couldn't possibly walk when he was so tired.

They walked through a hallway decorated with lavish tapestries. He recognized some of them as being of local make. Others were more exotic. More than a few bore a style he thought he recognized. "Ch-Chosen?"

She looked back at him, seeming delighted. "Very good!" He felt a little burst of joy at the praise. "Good boy. Keep speaking all those silly ideas, just like they taught you. The faster you speak them, the faster they'll leave your simply little head."

He blinked and shook his head confusedly. That wasn't how talking worked. He still remembered . . . something. He certainly didn't remember being 'taught'. He felt like he'd been asleep for the last few days, at least. One couldn't learn anything while asleep.

He shook his head again. Whatever it was, it wasn't important. Ytheri was right about everything. His cock gave a little throb at the obedient thought. It was better to listen to her.

"In fact," she was saying, "I hail from that region before the Chosen took it over. It used to be quite a nice place, actually." Something in her voice sounded almost upset. Okino frowned. It hurt to hear his Ytheri hurt. "Then . . . well, then things happened, and now I don't deal with petty politics. Like your cute little war with those bee girls!" She laughed, and his own smile returned. All was well. "Come, Okino! And don't hesitate to keep emptying your head. The emptier it gets, the more love for me you can feel."

That was so true. They walked down the corridor, and Okino took pains to remark on every single thing he saw—until Ytheri frowned again and told him he could stop for now. Aside from tapestries, there were quite a large number of spice racks. At first, he'd thought they were something else, but then he'd said it aloud and forgotten it. Ytheri had told him they were cooking spices. They were spice racks.

Ytheri led him into another lounge area. "Alright," she said, smiling, "I've made up my mind. Here's what I think I shall do with you. I'm a fun-loving sort of sorcerer, as I'm sure you've noticed." She trailed a little finger across his forehead and brought it up to her face, sucking off the honey between her pretty green lips. "Humans aren't good at much, but we're better at resisting what I do to you than fey. Fey." She snorted. "So high-and-mighty, but so easily controlled by someone who knows what she's doing. They're really just animals."

He stared up at her, remembering the lust in the Thriae who had captured him. But he'd been taken by them. He'd hungered for them. If they were animals, what was he?

"I love a challenge," Ytheri went on, chuckling. "I catch fey every now and then, but it's really no better than going to a sprite pit when you're me: Instant gratification—and they are good at gratification—but nothing really interesting. My Kuolema was a darling little challenge, but I think I've all-but curbed her spirit at this point. Soon, I will be mistress of life and death." She giggled.

She paused a moment, then gestured. He found himself crawling over and up into a large comfy chair. He lay there. Ytheri sauntered over, and her hand began to travel up his leg.

"You see," she said, "I don't want to die. I never want to die." He could relate. He didn't want Ytheri to die either. "So I cast a spell to literally let me see death. And when I got stung by a sandcancer hornet last year...well, I saw Kuolema."

Her fingers wrapped around his shaft. He felt magic coursing through him, filling him with renewed vigor. Slowly, she began to stroke along it. "I was going to just kill the agent, but when it looks like that? Oh, I had to have her. And I'm so glad I did, because she's ever-so-useful. She's the one who told me I would soon have visitors."

Her hand began to speed up. He let out a low moan. She smiled down at him. "Feeling good?" she asked.

"Unnnh..." He bucked up feebly.

"Oh, yes." She laughed delightedly. "You're still exhausted. Just a helpless toy for me to play with. You were a fly in the Thriae's sticky jar of honey. Well, guess what?" She leaned in and whispered in his ear. "You're in my web now."

Her tongue darted out at his neck. He gasped with pleasure as the fingers crackled with magical energy, infusing his cock with...something. "And I'm gonna turn your insides to ooey-gooey pleasure for me."

Okino moaned louder. She laughed, sitting down next to him. Her wide hips pressed into his as she continued to stroke him. Oh, gods, everything in his body was just...

. . . melting . . .

He spent what felt like ten minutes sinking into the soft chair, held against his owner, feeling her slow, inescapable pleasures overwhelm every cell of his body. After a while, she turned, and he felt her voluptuous form press against his shoulder.

"I got distracted," she whispered. "I was talking about my plans for you." She gave his cock an extra squeeze. A little dribble of precum leaked out. "We humans have stronger, hardier wills. You don't know what you really want." He could feel the orgasm growing. "Fortunately . . . I do."

He was about to cum. He gasped, feeling the pleasure growing, growing...

Growing . . .

He whimpered. Just when he'd thought he'd been approaching a precipice, it had climbed just a little bit higher. And it was going higher. He couldn't . . . couldn't . . .

"I'm gonna use you as a little game for me and my pets," Mistress cooed, her voice tickling his ear. "A tool to teach Kuolema and my little honey maid their place. You'll be theirs. They'll be yours. And you'll all be . . .?"

"Yours!" he whimpered, physically shaking in the chair.

She leaned into him. Her breasts were soft and warm beneath that silky dress. "That's right! And I'm gonna slowly chip away at your resistance. I won't lie with you, of course—too easy—but I'll have fun every now and then. I'll break you down to base components. I give you a week, tops."

She began to trail her finger up and down his throbbing cock, and the magic scorched his mind. His nervous system went wild. It was like a million fingers. No, a thousand tongues. "I'll just . . . take and take until everything left in your head is soft and tasty and squishy and empty. Won't that be nice?"

"Uhh . . . aaah . . . y-yes..."

"Good boy!" She giggled. The finger sped up. He felt the magic coursing through his mind, felt the pleasure centers lighting up like brilliant bonfires. "And once you're totally ours . . ." She turned his face towards hers. Her lips brushed against his as she whispered her next words. "You won't care what we do with you. Maybe I'll give you to the Thriae. Maybe I'll sell you to nymphs. Ooh, wouldn't that be nice? Nymphs are ever-so-cruel with their mortal toys." He began to buck, in spite of her commands. She laughed, totally devoid of pity of mercy. "But all in good time. When I kiss you, my slave, you will come. And afterwards . . . mm . . . every program and command I've put in you, every splinter, every ounce of poison, will vanish. You'll be free!"

"Wh—" He was cut off as she seized him in a kiss of pure, unbridled lust. She ripped through the last of his will with her lips and tongue, leaving her indelible mark on his mind. He could only gasp and moan as she clutched him, gasping and moaning herself. She sounded like she was having an unbelievably powerful orgasm.

And then he was too.

He couldn't even scream. This pleasure went beyond that. His mind and will were empty, now, and in their place was pure, blazing love. Love for his mistress. He gazed at her lusty eyes with total adoration, letting out a whispery sigh as the obedience rushed through his body.

She broke off the kiss. He fell back against the chair, still awash in bliss, still thrashing and bucking into empty air.

She smirked at him. "And let us begin to play."

~~~~~~~~

Yathi leveled her crossbow at the meadbrewer in front of her. "Get back!" she snarled.

The nubile blonde didn't seem concerned. She smiled, twirling one of those fluidsteel shields that were all the rage these days. Her beestung lips—Yathi privately congratulated herself on developing a sense of humor equal in maturity to Ia's—pursed as she blew a kiss. "Oh my gosh, you're even sexier up close. I can't believe it."

Yathi didn't dare waste her shot. Those shields were a pain and a half.

Her fingers tapped against the butt of the crossbow. An old nervous habit. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brist backing away from a pair of fey. Colorful red crystals danced in his fingers as he readied a spell. Nearby, Ia was leaping from rock to rock, swinging some sort of club at the increasingly irritated Thriae that pursued her. She couldn't see Okino or Trys, and she couldn't hear them, either.

The air was filled with buzzing.

Yathi had always known that the Thriae were more dangerous in groups. A Thriae could choose to emit a loud buzzing from her body—a sort of innate magic that became more and more potent with more Thriae joining in. But she had never heard the buzzing of six Thriae at once. She'd never even heard of anyone withstanding that many at once.

It made her think of the buzz of a vibrating runerod. It made her flush that that was the first thing that came to mind. The buzzing didn't exactly fill her head, but it was there, flitting under her skin, underneath everything, breaking her concentration with its tickling insistence.

And she needed her full concentration to be on resisting this. Yathi's foe was a deeply tanned blonde beauty. Those yellow eyes were wide and radiant, twin suns burning their way into Yathi's suddenly very vulnerable mind. She had two pairs of delicate wings flapping from her back, each the size of an ironing board and the depth of a snake's scale. Her lips were the same amber shade as her eyes. She swung her those ridiculously wide waspish hips of hers, giving a wide, sunny beam. "I mean, like, we knew you were sexy, but we didn't know you were drop. Dead. Delicious." She rolled her hips on each emphasized word. Her breasts jiggled with every hip sway. Her voice was like . . . like sweet, sensuous syrup . . .

Yathi found herself lost in the motions. The bouncing of the breasts, barely covered by that scant armor. The swaying of the hips. She had never been especially attracted to women, but you had to be a Cloistermage to not be attracted to a Thriae. Especially one who was so . . .

. . . so . . .

"Okino!" she heard Trys bark. "Snap out of it!"

It was like the battle sped up in her mind to catch up with reality. Brist had loosed a pair of fireballs, both missing. Ia had clubbed her pursuant over the head, though this had only slowed them down. She heard steel clashing against steel. Trys ran by, cutting three honey-tipped arrows out of the air before they could strike Brist's shouldeer.

She registered last the most important detail: The Thriae she'd been facing had stepped forward, slipped those long, slender fingers around Yathi's crossbow, and gently pointed the crossbow over both their heads.

Yathi's eyes widened as the trance faded. She tried to jerk away, but the meadbrewer held on, grinning. "Oh, no you don't! Just relax! Listen to the buzzing!" As Yathi struggled with both hands, she felt the fey's fingers by her head, brushing some stray dark hairs from her eyes. She blinked.

"Look in her eyes," cooed a voice from behind her. "Looook."

She tried to turn around, but two smooth hands suddenly grabbed onto either side of her head and forced her to face straight ahead. Two other hands gripped her hips, running loving caresses over her in her form-fitting armor. She realized she was being flanked by two. Two! What had she done to merit . . .

She blinked. The Thriae's eyes really were beautiful. Like flowing oceans of honey. No distracting pupils. Hardly any whites. Just twin suns. Her smile was really pretty, but those eyes were what captivated her. Captured her.