Intrepid Pawns Ch. 09

Ia could barely contain her shriek.

"I'm gonna do it," the catgirl hissed, as the suckling at Ia's breasts grew stronger, as the tickling of her feet grew more intense. Ia couldn't stop laughing. "Gonna do it over and over again, and I'm gonna come like crazy watching it. 'Cause you don't wanna be a bimbo. 'Cause you wanna stay free. And you know what?"

Ia was crying. Tears of sorrow, of despair, of denial, of laughter, of joy. "Mistress?"

Elly leaned in very, very close. "I think the reason you aren't giving in," she cooed, “is that you like me doing this to you. But there's one thing you don't know..."

And she kissed Ia. Ia leaned in to receive the kiss, helplessly horny, desperate for any attention she could get. Elly was an amazing kisser, and her tongue filled Ia's mouth, dispelled any doubts. The kiss was heavenly. Ia's eyes fluttered shut, momentarily lost in tormented bliss.

And at the same time, the paintbrush began to tickle her clit.

And Ia's eyes flew open as she screamed. She screamed into the kiss, hearing Elly's giggles, giggling uncontrollably herself as the paintbrush teased and tormented her sex, exquisite and unstoppable, unending. She writhed in her bonds, trembled in Elly's grasp, shuddered and laughed as the tickling teased her most sensitive area without mercy.

At last, Elly pulled back, just as the tickling at her clit climbed into ecstasy. Fuck, Ia was so close. The orgasm-preventing magic was pure torture. Ia squirmed and gasped as the paintbrush worked its magic. She couldn't even scream. Her mouth was open, but no sound came out.

Elly giggled, raising the slick, dripping runerod to Ia's eye level. "But here's the thing!” she said, beaming at Ia. “Only good girls get to come, and only bimbos can be my good girls. And if you don't come... you get stupid.”

Ia's eyelids fluttered. She was lost in denial, but Elly's words sank into her like poison from a frog's back, suffusing her.

“Think about it,” Elly cooed. “You're so crazy-dumb with horniness right now, you're screaming over a silly little paintbrush! But me?” She lowered the runerod again and shoved it into herself, moaning loudly. Performatively, even. “I get to come as often as I want!” She shook and wriggled, savoring the sensations as she slammed the vibrating toy in and out of her.. “Makes me smart. Satisfied. Feels so good.”

Even as she masturbated, the catgirl sensuously drew the paintbrush across Ia's pussy lips in several long strokes, then returned to spiraling around the clit. Ia's mind was in torturous fireworks.

“Say it,” Elly hissed, rising up and down on the runerod. “I get to come. That makes me smart.”

Ia hesitated only a second, and as if punishing her, the paintbrush flicked over her clit. She yelped. “You get to c-come, Mistress! M-makes—heehee—s-so smart!”

Elly smirked. “And do you get to come?”

Ia could barely even think about the words she was babbling out between giggles, but she managed to shake her head, desperate to avoid being punished again. Whatever Mistress wanted.

“And what,” Elly said slowly, “does that make you?”

Ia knew the answer to this one. “Stupid!” she squealed.

“Again.”

“Stupid, Mistress!” Ia shook all over as the paintbrush flicked several times over her clit. “Heehee! I'm sooooo stupid from—heehee—not coming! I neeheehee—nnnneed to come!”

“But how do you come, pet?” Ia shivered at the word. Something about it felt right. Elly appeared to notice her reaction, though, because she quickly went on, “Oh, sorry, Ia. I didn't mean todisrespect you, Ia.” The paintbrush torture sped up a little. “How do you come, Ia?”

The word almost sounded more insulting than 'pet', the way she said it.

Ia bit her lip as the fairy flitted in front of her. The little mothlike creature's eyes gleamed and breasts jiggled as she teased Ia's lips with the feather, forcing her mouth open with giggles. It was torture for a second reason this time—she needed to answer Elly. Not answering Elly made her a bad girl, she knew. And for some reason, nothing scared her more.

The fairy tormented her for a few seconds, then moved back down to Ia's sides. She knew Ia was waiting, and so immediately burst out, “O-only good girls come!”

Elly arched her eyebrows and grinned at her. She rubbed Ia's shoulder, causing Ia to let out a soft gasp even at this little contact. “But you don't wanna be a good girl, remember?”

Ia's eyes widened. She desperately shook her head, lost in giggles from the tickling at her side.

“Because you're smart,” Elly husked, leaning in and kissing Ia's neck. “You're strong.” She climbed up, kissing Ia's cheek. “And you can resist all of this, right?” The paintbrush playfully danced up Ia's belly to Ia's lips, and Ia's heart almost stopped with even this small relief.

“I...” She was panting, staring right into Elly's hypnotic eyes. She was immune to hypnosis, immune to all mind control, and yet... “I...”

“Right?” Mistress Elly repeated, her voice a sultry whisper. “You don't wanna be my good girl. You wanna be free. You want me to let you go. Isn't that true?” And to Ia's horror, the paintbrush reversed its journey, returning to her clit. Ia started to moan, not just in pleasure, but in plain despair. She felt Elly purring as the catgirl took her in a brief, hungry kiss—and 'took her' was the right phrase, because Ia was powerless to return it, to struggle, to do anything but moan and giggle and accept the sensuous touches. Elly pulled back and smiled. “You want me to free you? 'Cause I might do it, if you ask nicely.”

It took Ia what felt like hours to muster the word, and as she struggled, the paintbrush continued its torture, the fairies continued humping her needy nipples, and the third fairy flew up and started tickling the long feather around her neck. And Elly continued to smile at her—a cruel, knowing, triumphant smile.

"No," she whimpered.

Elly leaned in and kissed her again, softly, shortly. "What was that?' she asked, voice high-pitched and breathy, almost wispy. Ia felt her stroking the runerod over her thigh, felt it buzzing faintly. Suddenly, her leg was becoming unbelievably erogenous, and she actually cried out as Elly slowly stroked it with the dildo. "You can't resist this?"

"No," Ia whined. "No, no, no!" She tried to buck against the paintbrush, tears pouring from her eyes. It was humiliating. She just couldn't take it anymore. Her mind was being sanded away, and all she cared about was an end to it all. An hour ago, she'd wished for death. Now she couldn't even wish for that—she needed climax. "I can't!"

Elly smirked. She took the paintbrush away from Ia's pussy and brought it up, tracing it over Ia's lips. Ia's lips quivered at the slow, sensual attention. She could feel her own juices being 'painted' onto her mouth. "I think you can," she soothed. "I think you can take it for hours, get even nicer and dumber for me. Isn't that what you said? Ooh, you were so rude to me, sweetie."

Ia felt sudden shame coursing through her, familiar and yet alien. She had upset her Mistress!

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "Sorry, sorry! So sorry! Please, Mistress!" The fairy behind her brought the feather across the nape of her neck, and her whole back arched. "Pleeeease!”

Elly giggled like a schoolgirl. "Oh, but knights don't give in to things like this!" Ia cringed. She'd tried repeating her vows to herself earlier. It hadn't helped. Surely Elly wasn't going to... "You said all sortsa things, babe. Really silly things. Stupid things. You hadn't come in a while, I guess!"

"Please, Mistress, don't make me..."

But of course Elly would. Elly was going to strip everything that made Ia Ia away from her, turn her into a docile, obedient pet. And Ia was helping her do it.

"You promised to uphold order," Elly hissed, flicking the paintbrush beneath her bottom lip, causing it to quiver. "To resist temptation. To be a bastion of purity."

"P-please..."

Elly waited a moment. Ia bit her lip. She couldn't, she couldn't...

"Well," Elly said smugly, "guess it's back to your naughty clitty with this—"

"No!" Ia cried. "No, please, I lied! Those vows were lies! P-please no more on my clitty!"

Mistress Elly flicked the paintbrush over Ia's upper lip teasingly, and Ia moaned aloud at the sensation. "You promised to uphold order."

"I lied!" Ia whimpered, hating her Mistress, hating herself. "Liedliedlied—"

The paintbrush traced down to Ia's cleavage. "To resist temptation..."

"P-please, I give in, just gimme the runerod..."

"To resist temptation," Elly moaned in her ear.

"I lied! You t-tempted me, okay, Mistress?" Ia's voice broke on the last word.

"Hee. I know I did." Elly pulled back and stared deep into Ia's wide, teary eyes. The paintbrush slowly circled over one breast as the moth fairy atop it happily rose up and down on Ia's nipple. Ia trembled, knowing the final blow was coming, utterly helpless to stop herself. "You promised," she purred, "to be a bastion of purity."

"Fuckmefuckmefuckme—"

"But Ia!" Elly made a face of mock shock. "That doesn't sound like something a brave knight would say!"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Ia stared into those eyes, and saw reflected in them her own eyes. Gasping. Needy. Almost... hypnotized.

And Ia broke. She broke completely. Her will melted down as hours of built-up needs and submissions and lessons and denials cooked her brain like a marshmallow in the firepit. She melted into pure lust. She melted into obedience.

"I'm not a knight," she panted, "not a knight, not a knight—"

The paintbrush fell away from her breast. Ia let out a shuddering sigh of relief. She didn't care anymore. She would say whatever this horrid, wonderful creature wanted, do whatever she wanted, be whatever she wanted. She'd tried lying, tried faking it, tried denying it. Elly knew. Elly always knew.

Mistress always knew.

And then Ia felt the runerod pressing against her pussy lips. All it would take, she realized, wet and shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm, was one little shove. Just a little thrust. Anything. She stared deep into Elly's eyes, totally lost in desire. Elly was beaming at her. That was good. It was good that Mistress was happy with.

Elly put one finger to her pouting lips, looking quizzical. "If you're not a knight,” she said, with a thoughtful tone, "what are you, Ia?"

The runerod seemed to give a little jolt, and Ia felt her pussy's sensitivity suddenly... spike. In a wave of lust, she registered:

Elly had been holding back this entire time.

Her eyes widened. Her pussy gushed. Her lips trembled, and she babbled for what felt like a whole minute as the fairies tickled and sucked at her, as the runerod teased her, as Elly watched and masturbated to the mere sight of her. She couldn't even form even basic words without a struggle. Even the runerod's slight buzzing at her entrance was heavenly, was mind-numbing. She wanted more. She wanted Elly to fuck her brains out.

And only one kind of girl could want that.

"Bimbo!" she squealed. She felt a supreme bliss fill her quieting mind as she said the word. She wanted to feel that again. "Bimbo! I'm your b-b-bimbo sluuuut wh-whore!" Oh, gods, how did this feel so good? How?

Elly smiled. "I think I'm gonna call you," she cooed, leaning in and kissing Ia on the cheek—Ia trembled at the little contact—"Lady Comesalot. Lady Cummy, for short."

And the runerod pushed in completely.

Ia could only scream as her systems were utterly flooded in pleasure, perfect, complete. It was pleasure mixed with a strange sense of completion she had never felt before, not with all her years of living with the alchemy, all her years of denying herself. She'd never thought of it as denial back then—she'd had sex all the time back home—but somehow, this was different. She'd never been made to submit before, never been made to feel how good it felt. Instinctively, she knew that she would never feel this good again.

Not without Elly's permission, anyways.

The runerod buzzed and pounded in and out of her, heedless of these thoughts, incessant, merciless. Ia had been painfully close to orgasm already; now it felt like Elly was only barely holding her at the brink. It was like going years with only water droplets and suddenly having a waterfall dropped onto your head. Ia was drowning.

"This is obedience," Elly cried, over Ia's screams. "This is what it feels like to be a good girl! You always wanna be a good girl, right?"

"Yes!" Ia squealed. "Yes!"

Elly's eyes glittered in delight. "Then you'll help me capture and brainwash your friends?"

Ia was so close. So close. So close.

"Yes!" Ia blubbered. "Yes-yes-yes-YES!" She would do anything to keep from being a bad girl, she knew now. Elly would hold her like this for years if she had to. Elly was too smart for her. Elly got to come whenever she liked, and that made her so, so smart. Ia was just a bimbo.

A bimbo who had been a good girl. And that was all she needed to be.

"Names," Elly cooed.

"B-Brist," Ia cried. "Dark skin, crystal mage. Trys, b-blonde, honey addict. Yathi! Yathi! She's—oh, fuck, so hot... almost as hot as you..." Oh, if only Mistress could capture Yathi and Brist. Then it would be heaven. Parts of Ia wanted to feel guilty for these thoughts, but no part of her truly did. She was a bimbo. She was stupid. It wasn't her fault. She just wanted to be with Yathi and Brist and Mistress and get fucked out of her brains—”

“Actually,” Elly whispered, “I think Trys is a redhead; isn't that right?”

Ia's mind struggled to function. She was barely holding on. "N-no," she said, confused. "She's... oh, she's...” She wiggled her hips against the runerod, practically purring with pleasure. “... she's blonde—"

Abruptly, the runerod pulled out, still dripping with her juices.

And just like that, Ia's world melted away. Emptiness filled her formerly full cunt. The fairies started teasing her again on her feet and breasts.

“Bad girl,” Elly said, shaking her head.

Ia stared into Elly's eyes, horrified, as she felt the paintbrush start flicking over her lips again. "No," she cried. "Heehee—n-no! Pleeease, no!"

Elly eyed her for a moment, almost frowning. Ia felt a strange pain course through her at that look. She never wanted Mistress to look at her that way again. At last, Mistress sighed, and leaned in to gently kiss her. "Good girls," she murmured, "always say yes!”

Ia blinked. Her eyelids fluttered. She couldn't help but giggle, but her gaze never left Mistress's. She wanted it to be clear she was paying attention.

Mistress smiled sadly. “See how dumb you are? You hardly ever get to come, and now you've somehow convinced yourself she's blonde! Poor confused bimbo."

Ia felt her world falling from beneath her feet, and as she was suspended in the air right now, this was quite a feeling. She drifted in space, her head spinning. She felt the fairies suckle her nipples with their wet cunts, felt the feather tickling her shoulderblades mercilessly, making her shoulders reflexively buck and struggle, and felt, of course, the horrid, exquisite tickling at her clit that drove out all other thought.

Even as she tickled Ia's clit, Mistress kissed her again, hard, passionate, soft and long. Despite her state, Ia struggled to think.

Trys was blonde. She was a honey addict! Right? Surely Mistress was mistaken.

But Mistress got to come all the time. How could she be wrong when she was so smart? How could Ia be right when she was just a stupid, horny bimbo?

At last, Mistress Elly pulled back, grinning at her. “So, Trys was a redhead, right, sweetie? Super-pretty crimson hair?" She tossed her blonde hair back with a coy wink. “Which is a shame, 'cause you've always loved blondes.”

Ia shook, both in mind and body, the last vestiges of free thought trying in vain to assert themselves against a windstorm that could rip whole oaks from the soil. "B-but... honey addict, Mistress..." Her voice was pathetically small. Questioning, even—like she was begging to be proven wrong. “She's a h-honey addict...”

"Mead addicts' hair turns red, silly. Like burnt honey." Mistress Elly's voice sounded so reasonable. It made sense, didn't it? And her voice was so reasonable. So reasonable and sweet and pretty and soft. The paintbrush flicked against Ia's clit a bit faster, making Ia giggle. She felt the fact sinking into her head, like a stone sinking through molasses. How could she refuse Mistress Elly?

Maybe Trys had been redhead.

Flick.

Yes, Ia was pretty sure she had, in fact! She sort of remembered now...

Flick.

And Mistress would know. Mistress Elly was so smart. Mistress Elly got to come whenever she—

Flick.

Ia squirmed and writhed in her bonds. "P-please, Mistress!" she cried, her voice positively a moan. "She was a redhead! You were so right! Forgive this stupid bimbo! Please let me come s-so I can be smart like you!" She fixed Mistress Elly with a look of pure adoration, hoping against hope. Surely Mistress Elly would be kind. Oh, please let Mistress be kind...

Mistress Elly giggled. She petted Ia's hair, like one might pet a beloved pet. Ia leaned into her touch, nuzzling the hand eagerly. "Oh, you're always gonna be a dumb bimbo. I'm only gonna let you come when you're a good girl, and we both know you're really dumb at being one of those!"

"Yes, yes—heehee—yes..."

"You'll need me to take care of you, I think! Forever!" Mistress's smile turned smug. Almost a bit cruel. But then the paintbrush pulled away, and Ia felt the girth of the runerod buzzing against her inner thigh, and Ia could no longer remember how to say no to her Mistress. Mistress was too smart for her. “Won't you?”

And Mistress Elly's voice was so sweet, so loving, Ia could only stare deep into her eyes and feel the sparkle leave her own. Good girls always say yes. Good girls get to come. Dumb bimbos never get to come, so they stay dumb bimbos. If I get smart, I can... I can... I can be a good girl, and then I can come. I can be a good, dumb bimbo, and I can come, and I can get smart, and I can... can come...

“Yes,” she squeaked. “Always yes!”

Elly beamed at her. “Good girl.”

And she shoved the runerod in. “Time for Lesson Two.”

And pure, perfect pleasure consumed Ia's mind.

~~~~

Okino, the fair, dark-haired former captain of the elite strikeforce of knights sent to infiltrate and bring down a Thriae hive from within, stumbled down the hallway clad in only a towel. His cock was tingling with an almost agonizing need. He had just been fucking a psychopomp, and the pleasure still echoed through him every now and then.

The captain's head swam. Gods, he was so fucked. Ytheri's crazed games were his only shot, and he knew by his gut that she was not going to play fair. He had to find the exit. Had to find a door, a window, a... anything.

The hallway was mostly empty save for the strange items that lined its walls. Okino still wasn't sure what they were, exactly, but a very persistent voice told him that they were just spice racks, and of no real import, and that voice was sweet and smart and kind and perfect. His eyes glazed over them. Nothing to see.

Ytheri didn't light many lamps, and Okino was having some trouble finding his way in the darkness. He nearly tripped over the spice racks twice, in fact. So it was to his relief that he spotted a warm glow coming from up ahead.