Intrepid Pawns Ch. 05

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Okino is seduced by a brainwashed psychopomp slut.
7.6k words
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Part 5 of the 17 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 08/07/2015
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It was strange that Okino was awoken by the warm, wet, slightly ticklish feeling in his ear—and not by the breathy, feminine whispering mantra. It was also strange that he only gradually became aware of the latter as consciousness returned to him.

"I am needy, I am Hers. Her pleasure is mine, Her lust, Her cries. I am needy, I am Hers..."

His eyes shot open in alarm.

The Knight of the City was lying on the massive chair that Mistress—that Ytheri the Sorceress had made him cum to sleep on. Somewhat surprisingly, it was completely clean now. The Knight of the City found himself completely naked, buried in soft blankets and staring into the deep, all-seeing eyes of the psychopomp.

Kuolema—that was what Ytheri had called her—had black, bottomless pools for eyes. They weren't dark. They were void. They made his heart pound when he looked at them too long, and yet he couldn't look away. His heart kept pounding, and he started to feel a distant pain in his left arm. The pounding was growing louder when her eyelids suddenly fluttered, and like that, he was free. Kuolema let out a wispy moan as he quickly looked away.

She had long, white hair, currently done up in an immaculate topknot. She was very pale—pale as bone—and her large breasts heaved with every gasping breath she took in. She was totally nude. The air around her stank of sage and mint, and Okino saw that her hands were currently thrust between her legs as she sat, legs spread, on the arm of his chair. Her toes poked into his hip.

She batted her eyelashes at him. "You are awake."

"I..." Okino tried to avoid looking into her eyes. Something told him that that path led somewhere far darker than hypnosis. Somewhere dark, and cold, and lost to the world. Instead, he looked at her breasts. "You're Kuolema," he said, partially just for something to say.

Kuolema let out a small laugh. It was cut off midway by a much longer moan. She really wasn't holding back, was she? Okino felt his member hardening as he listened to her noises, watched her stab into herself again and again with three spindly fingers. "You're Mistress's new pet."

Okino bristled. His mind felt rejuvenated, somehow—the honey and mind control were now distant, pleasant memories, and he found his will was fully his own again. And yet something felt off. Her words echoed in his head like stones cast down a bottomless well. I am needy. I am Hers.

He tried to get up, but the heavy blankets weighed him down. "I am no one's pet. I am Okino, Knight of the City."

"Mm. Okay." Okino clenched his fists in impotent rage. Her tone was so calm, so patronizing, that Okino wanted to...wanted to...wanted to grab her, and...

Her pleasure is mine, her lust, her cries...

...wanted to grab her, and pound into her, and keep pounding until the little blonde slut begged for his tongue...

Okino's mouth was dry. He licked his lips and swallowed. "You have to help me," he whispered. "I can—I can bring back help for you." The lie came hard to Okino. He was, to a fault, honest. At least, he'd always thought so. Now he was having trouble remembering anything honest he'd done in his life. He was the one who'd dragged Yathi along just to hit on her. He was the one who'd gotten the whole patrol captured by his own overconfidence. Rhoelt had warned him, and he hadn't listened. Why couldn't he have listened?

And where had these longings for domination come from? Okino had never seen himself as the sort who needed to control women. Not like that, anyways. Were they turning him into some sort of beast? Or had this always been...

He tried to cut the thought off. He only succeeded thanks to a helpful distraction.

Kuolema was smiling. She reached forward with one hand, the other still busy between her legs. Cupping his chin in one hand, the psychopomp raised his face to look at her. He stared carefully at her supple lips. "There is no escape for me, little mortal," she whispered. Her lips seemed to savor every word. "Save through pleasure."

Her fingers were sticky and warm. Her lust. Her cries.

Okino pulled himself away and started shedding blankets. He had to hurry. Had to get away from this woman. This thing. Her raspy voice was hypnotic to him. It sent tingles down his spine to see her like this, to hear the sticky sounds below, to feel her sensuously whispered words as though they were brushing his skin. It was all too easy for his eyes to fall upon her wet pussy, to see her fingers working it, to see her thumb stroking gently around her clit. So easy.

I am needy. I am Hers.

As the last comforter fell onto the floor, his cock sprung free. Hard. Erect. Okino's heart sank as he saw it.

By contrast, Kuolema cooed with exquisite delight, leaning over and staring at the cock in rapture. "Your manhood awakens for me!" she said, giggling. "Oh, such pleasures you mortals bring." Her hand crept forward. "I shouldn't..."

"Please don't," Okino whispered. But he didn't move as Kuolema's fingers lightly stroked his cock. The light touch sent electric shivers throughout his body. "D-don't," he repeated, somewhat less convincingly. I am needy. I am Hers.

"You cannot escape," the fair slave said cheerfully. "So why not simply submit?"

Okino reached forward and, trembling, pulled her hand away. "I mustn't," he gasped. But now it sounded less like a denial and more like... him looking for an excuse.

That must have been what Kuolema heard, anyways, because she just laughed. She took his hand before he could react, bringing it over to her chest. She set his hand on one breast, and smiled at him. "You must," she said simply.

Okino marveled at the sensation. She was so cold. So smooth. Her nipple was hard and pointed, and he brushed his hand over it, listening to her little gasps. He could feel her heart beating rapidly beneath, could feel the air as she moaned and breathed in.

"S-so easy," she whispered. "Just submit to me, human. I will be—I will keep you as long as I can. Fuck you again and again. I will be so much kinder than the Thriae. I will hold you and comfort you. I will be gentle. Take pleasure in me. You're so needy. So needy." The words made his heart drop.

Okino felt her hand release his, but his hand didn't move. He watched with dread as her newly-freed hand returned to his cock, bringing back the cool touches. "I cannot be warm for you, as she can," the psychopomp whispered. "And I can never be as perfect as Mistress. But if you break for me..."

Her legs parted slightly. He stared at them, hypnotized by her wet, womanly folds. "I can open your mind to new experience. You can be mine. I will be so dedicated, so wonderful—it brings me pleasure to bring humans pleasure now." She started to rub more firmly, and he whimpered, feeling the pressure starting to mount. "I'll never tease... never hurt..."

"I need to get b-back to my patrol."

"They will be lost soon." She smiled at him. "You need not fear for them. Please." Her foot brushed over his. "Live for this present."

"But—"

She leaned close and began to kiss his neck. He felt the tingling spreading through his entire body. It felt as though his whole body was falling asleep, but there was no numbness in his member. Down below, her fingers wrapped all the way around it and started to stroke faster. "Lose yourself in me," she commanded.

I am Hers. I am Hers. Her pleasure is mine.

Okino felt his mind slipping, and he struggled to hold on. It was like he was on a wooden ship breaking apart in the void of space. He jumped out to grab a piece, but each time he did, he fell further out, further from the rest of the vessel. "No," he managed.

The psychopomp laughed and kissed his cheek. Her leg rose up, straddling his left thigh. "You will. You cannot resist." Her other hand crept over his chest like a spider. "Is it not a human's purpose to be lost to Death?"

"Please..."

"I'll be so gentle," she cooed, nibbling his earlobe. She rose up again, her whole pert rear rising up into view as she practically straddled his crotch. "So kind. So sweet."

As she descended down on Okino's cock, he felt her wet sheath touch him. It stroked his cock with the utmost gentleness, and despite the alien lack of warmth, something about it intoxicated him. The pleasure whirled within, a gale of sensation, drawing his mind further and further away from his body until he felt trapped in dark, endless pleasure.

She began to slowly rise up and down. He shivered, both from cold and from desire. "Take comfort in me," she whispered. "Take solace in me. All you need do is ask."

"I must fight!" he cried, but the outburst sounded strange to him. It didn't sound like him. It sounded like a dream's version of him. A desperate approximation of resistance. Was he already breaking for her?

Would that be so bad, really? He shuddered as she rose up. It felt so wonderful to lie there and let her take him. To take comfort in her.

"And you can," she soothed, stroking over his chest with a hand, touching his nipples lightly. Her lips ran over his forehead, kissing him tenderly. "You can take pleasure in me. Take strength in me. It will help you resist Mistress. Oh, yes. Oh, yes."

"I..." Okino felt his thoughts scatter for a moment as she rose up on his cock. "I must..." She came down again, again cutting away his attempt at defiance. He heard her giggle against him.

"Take it in me," she hissed in his ear, then lowered down and started kissing his neck. "Take solace. Take comfort. Take it in me. Take me! Take me!"

Her pussy lips contracted around his cock, forcing a moan out of him as he struggled to formulate objection.

"You will be so good," she gasped, licking along his throat. "I will be so good for—oh, so good for you!"

"But..." Okino trailed off as she squeezed his cock again. "I need to... escape..."

"And you can!" Her voice was getting slightly higher-pitched now. "Can—can be lost in me, and I can protect—can comfort—so easy—so horny..." She let out a long, throaty moan, her lips vibrating against his skin, and she started to buck wildly atop him. He felt warm juices running down his cock as she came.

Her pleasure is mine, Okino thought, shaking. And indeed, it coursed through him in a torrent. He didn't come, but he could feel the need rising, and rising... I am hers.

"S-so easy..." she hissed.

"Yes," he heard himself whimper.

For a moment, her attentions slowed, as she bathed in the afterglow. Then, Kuolema started to kiss up along his neck, and her hips started to rise slightly faster. "So, little boy..." she moaned, her lips mere millimeters away from his, "... what do you desire from me?"

His lips moved without thought. "To be lost," he heard himself cry as his cock gave a needy throb.

"Lost?" she whispered, giving him an affectionate peck on the lips. Her eyes were closed. "Lost in me?"

He needed release. He needed pleasure. Needed to cum so he could think. Needed to satisfy her so she would leave him. Needed to take comfort in her. Needed to take strength in her. Needed to take her. Needed to be... to be...

"To be lost in you! Oh, please." He bucked up into her. "Please, before that m-madwoman finds us! Take me! Oh, fuck!"

He heard her giggle. "Oh, poor, silly human boy," she murmured, locking lips with him. He heard her voice whisper in his mind. With every submission, you lock yourself closer to Her.

His eyes widened, but it was too late. She started to bounce in his lap, kissing him with a lusty hunger. He moaned despite himself as her slick slit rose up and down around him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her tongue thrust into his mouth.

At first, Okino went limp, allowing her to fuck him. But after a few seconds, that began to not be enough. He felt the hunger growing within him, rising to match hers, and he resented her gentle touches. He wrapped his arms around her, grabbing her pert ass, and he pounded up into her. He heard her gasp from the sudden thrust, and that only made his lust burn hotter.

Suddenly possessed of an aroused fury, the Knight of the City rolled the pale slave onto her back. Her eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. Something about this aroused him above all else. He needed to master. To dominate, to control. He drove down into her. In his frenzy, he found himself imagining that it was beautiful Yathi whom he was fucking, imagining that those gasping lips were Yathi's as he kissed her roughly.

"Yes—" she cried, "yes, mm, oh, yes-yes-'esss!"

He imagined that she was a Thriae, that he was drilling one of their hot, gooey pussies, finally making those whores pay for every humiliation—every second of unsatisfied lust. "Little bitch," he hissed, surging into her. He was so close. "You fucking—slutty—"

"Yes, yes—" She was almost crying. "Just like a mortal slut—"

"Then cum like one!" he roared, and came. He came into her, crying out, shaking all over. Her slender arms snaked around him, and she was screaming, too. Her lips were all over him, licking his face, kissing his cheeks and his lips, like she just wanted to taste his mortal, masculine musk.

Okino spasmed, unable to control himself anymore, but she was fortunately quite happy to grab his hips and force him up and down inside her. The orgasm went on, and on, for what felt like minutes. It felt like days.

At last, as his thrusts began to ebb, she released him. He fell against her soft, cold body, gasping for breath. She wasn't breathing at all. She just lay there, a smile on her face, eyes closed in peace.

Okino slowly rose up, shaking all over. Fuck. Fuck.

What had just happened came to him slowly, but he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. He pulled himself out of her. She didn't stir. Was she...dead?

Probably not. He hesitated, then grabbed some of the blankets and threw them on top of her. She looked almost normal, lying there in the chair. Almost human.

Poor thing. No one could resist Ytheri. Not even the Reapers.

He got up and looked around. Spotting a towel, Okino wrapped it around his waist and hurried from the room.

He had to find the exit. With every submission, he grew weaker.

~~~~

"So this is the Western Evergreen." Yathi grimaced, surveying the road ahead. She had never been this far from the city before. Not since... not since she was a kid.

It seemed so distant now. Years ago, long before she'd ever seen a Thriae. Long before she'd been...well, she didn't want to think about that. Now here she stood, belly full of Thriae honey and locked in the first stage of mead addiction, chasing a troop of Thriae straight back to their own hive. It seemed like madness.

But she was strong. She could do this. For her city, for her team. She swallowed. "A lot of trees, huh?"

Trys stepped up level with her, raising an eyebrow. The ex-mead addict looked skeptical, though the Western Evergreen seemed quite peaceful at the moment.

The Evergreen Forest was the largest forest on the continent, and ran more or less straight through the middle of the landmass. It was infamous for the danger it posed to travelers who strayed from the path, being infested with fey, sex-crazed plants, just generally crazed plants, and, of course, the infamous Gray Wraiths. The Western Evergreen was generally agreed upon to be the second-worst section of the forest, right after the completely wild Northern Evergreen. This was because the Western Evergreen had something no other part of the forest did:

Druids.

Brist stepped up, too, and gave the forest a long look. Yathi swore she could hear the black-skinned, white-haired crystal mage gulp. "That's... wow. I've never seen trees so tall."

"Aw. I bet Brist didn't know they grew that big." Ia clapped the wizard on the shoulder. "Feeling impotent, wizard?"

Brist jerked away, scowling. "Can you be serious for one moment? We're about to enter the Western Evergreen. Anything could happen in there."

"As long as we stay on the path, we'll be fine," Yathi said, though she herself wasn't fully sure. The fey followed those rules—more or less, sometimes, depending on their mood—but the druids probably didn't. Hopefully the druids wouldn't pay them any heed, or weren't in the area. "We've just gotta move quickly. This is only a short strip of the wood—the Thriae think they're going to lose us in here. They'll cut through the strip and curve around, straight to their hive."

"Are you sure they're using the path?" Trys asked, eyes narrowed. She glanced at Yathi with clear skepticism. "They're fey."

"There's worse things than fey in there," Yathi said darkly. "It doesn't tend to go well for anyone who wanders where they shouldn't, and the Thriae are as much guests as we are. The Evergreen Forest has its own sort of order to things."

There was a long silence. The Gray Wraiths hung over the conversation like a funeral shawl.

"Welp!" Ia clapped her hands excitedly. "Let's get moving, guys. Time is honey."

Yathi suddenly did not much care for that old city expression.

~~~~

"Hm."

Ia stopped short. She glanced back at Yathi, arching one eyebrow, and tried to hide any alarm this word had caused beneath her usual flippancy. "Hm? Hm? What's that about, Yathers?"

The scout was studying the treetops with a nervous frown. Ia noticed that Yathi was squirming a little in her stance. Ia sort of knew the feeling. Sometimes I just want to rip off my clothes and...ugh. She tapped her head with a knowing smile. Careful, Ia. Don't look at her when you're thinking such things.

Yathi had always been beautiful to Ia. Extremely beautiful. Ridiculously beautiful. Her short dark hair always seemed glossy and sleek, and her leather bodysuit really didn't do a thing to hide her flawless figure. She'd always seemed incapable of wearing anything that didn't make Ia a bit wet, actually.

But now Ia's attraction was tinged with a sort of empathy that wasn't helping things one bit. Every little fidget, every little wince and whimper when someone brushed by her bare skin. Yathi was in Stage One of the honey addiction, and it was the sexiest thing Ia had ever seen in her life. Except maybe watching Yathi lick three Thriae pussies out a few hours ago.

"The moth fairies," Yathi muttered, dispelling Ia's unwanted daydreams. "They're gone."

"What does that mean?" Trys asked, her hand straying to her sword.

"What are moth fairies?" Brist asked.

"Little, er, fairies." Yathi glanced at Brist, then quickly averted her eyes. "With moth wings. Fuzzy skin. Kind creatures, but impressionable. They normally infest the branches of the Western Evergreen."

"What does it mean?" Trys repeated. The normally perfectly-controlled warrior looked a bit annoyed.

"It means..." Yathi squirmed. Idly, one of her hands rose up and gave her left breast a squeeze. She didn't even seem to be aware she was doing it. Ia felt her legs quake slightly. "I don't know what it means. It could mean... I don't know."

Trys appeared eager to press the matter, but something made her stop. Ia cocked her head, but said nothing. She got it. They needed Yathi functioning. Maybe it was better not to press her too hard on things.

Maybe it was nothing.

~~~~

Menta gave the jar a good shake, giggling like mad at the ensuing shrieks and squeals. "Powder up!" she cooed.

The three little gray-skinned fairies inside struggled to find purchase, their little moth wings fluttering frantically to no avail. Every time Menta shook the jar, it made the little green dust she'd poured into the jar rise up in great clouds. The fairies struggled to avoid the dust, but with every little rattle and shake, the tiny, fuzzy, big-breasted women became increasingly coated in it. The powder stuck in particular to their lips, eyelids, cheeks and nether regions.