Monstrous Ranch Ch. 09

Jerrod was, by most measures, quite a brawny man.

The stockman had built up his strength helping the ship's brimstone mage roll around barrels and get the pipes set up. Helping mages kill people was good exercise. He'd never been much of a warrior, really—he could hold his own, as could any pirate who faced regular resistance, but he'd mostly been in charge of moving things around. It made it extra-hard to get work after being branded. Nobody would hire him as an honest laborer, but he didn't exactly know how to hold his own around proper mercenaries. As such, he always ended up the runt, and a man Jerrod's size wasn't accustomed to being the runt.

That was why this job really was a dream come true. Bobbin's job offer had been persuasive, to say the least: "Come work for us, help with the harvest, and fuck a babe with kitty ears or a snake tail every now and then. He was a big guy. It was nice to have honest work that played to his strengths.

Still, every now and then he wished he'd learned some... proper criminal skills.

Like how to break down a door.

The Thriae built them sturdy, as it turned out.

He rammed into the wooden door again, grunting with effort. He heard the beembos giggling from up above in the clover trees, but he couldn't pay them any heed. All it would take was one look. Not that they could mind control him, obviously—not with his amulet—but he couldn't afford any distractions right now.

Damn it, who built a cottage door this solid? And where the hell was Bobbin? He needed her help. She could just blast this door off its hinges, no doubt, or... well, she might also have the key, considering she was fucking these particular babes just about every day at her leisure.

He ran at the door again, groaning as his shoulder cracked slightly from the impact. It wasn't a broken bone—he just didn't stretch often enough. He'd have to ask the scarecrows about that later.

Speaking of which, he looked over at Seven. "Anything you can do?" he snapped. "This door ain't going down anytime soon, and we need to get in there! Shit knows what they're getting up to in there!"

Seven shrugged. "There's always the chimney."

"Do I look like a smoke hag?"

She giggled. "I was gonna say you'd make a nice gift sprite, but..." She gestured at the door. "Let me try."

Jerrod stepped out of the way as the curvaceous, silver button-eyed woman advanced, rolling her shoulders in a way he initially took to be flirtatious. She was a slight young thing, with baggy, patchy clothes covering a very thin frame—straw was stuffed in her trousers, her sleeves, and under her breasts just to keep to her clothes from slipping off. A scythe was strapped to her back, but her petite form looked barely capable of understanding the purpose of such an instrument, let alone wielding it in melee. "Yeah, sure." He snorted. "I'm sure you can—"

She grabbed the doorkob and twisted downwards, snapping it out of the wooden door in one sharp motion.

Jerrod blinked. "Right. Magic construct lady."

Seven winked at him. "Mostly lady. But you know that!"

Grinning, Jerrod pulled open the door and slowly advanced. There was no one in the entrance room, but he could hear sounds coming from the back of the cottage—the bedroom, no doubt. Giggling. Sexual sounds. Moaning. That wasn't so bad.

Then he heard splashing sounds, and he swallowed. That was bad.

He started to move forward, but Seven grabbed his arm and tugged him back. "There's mead, I think," she whispered. Jerrod's head swam as he belatedly recognized it, too—a sneaky, spicy odor that was very good at slipping beneath a human's guard. "The amulet will protect you from their control, but not the drug. Careful, J."

Jerrod nodded, stepped outside, and took a deep breath.

He clutched his nose and rushed back in. This would have to be quick.

The scarecrow sauntered after him, not so much unconcerned as she was simply excited. She really was the most wanton of her number—Jerrod would have to reward her for fetching him after this. Or was that the horniness from the mead telling him that? Shit, ever since he'd started eating that prisoner fruit, he just didn't know anymore...

The sexual sounds got louder as they hurried through the door entered the kitchen/parlor area. The parlor was heady and hot. One of the Thriae's favorite tricks—heating up the dwelling to make the victim more receptive. Bobbin told him that was a popular hypnosis technique.

Then there was the Master's Chair—an ironically named chair that Jerrod himself had once unwisely sat in. It was practically covered in honey now. Not good.

Damn it, how had Senya been left alone this long? Bobbin knew better than this! Jerrod would've understood if it was the holstaur—Bobbin had made it very clear to him that she could not resist that creature—but she always had the Thriae eating out of her hand.

The scarecrow kept her mouth and nose uncovered as she made her way towards the bedroom. Jerrod let her lead the way—the scarecrows were imbued with a lot of advantages to help them handle the monster girls, and he was in no mood to tell her how to do her job. The mead smell wouldn't affect her one bit.

Though... therewas a certain sway to her hips, now that he noticed it. Seven didn't exactly have Thriae hips, but she always put on that sensual sway when she was feeling needy. He'd learned to recognize it pretty quickly after meeting her.

She came to the doorway and stopped. The blonde scarecrow glanced back at him, button eyes frowning. Her legs rubbed together, almost unconsciously, and there was a familiar quiver to her lips. "I feel funny," she whispered. "There's a... a field."

"A what?" Jerrod stared at her blankly, mumbling beneath his hand. "Know y'can be real whore sometimes, bu' hol' off for just five minutes and I'll fuck your brains out. Or wha'ever 'tis scarecrows got."

"I... I can't..." Her voice was very small, but growing higher-pitched. She started to rub her body, moaning. "Oh, they... oh, they were planning for todaaaAAYY—"

"Shh!" Jerrod rushed forward and put his hand over her lips, smothering her moan as she spilled into his arms. She started kissing his hand, sucking on his fingers—she was clearly desperate for attention. "Shit, what's gotten into you?"

"H-horny," she moaned. "Oh, they... she's so good... mm..."

Jerrod stared dumbly as the scarecrow sucked his thumb like a cock. The act seemed to be bringing her almost orgasmic levels of pleasure, but at least she was being quieter now. The wet sounds of her sucking weren't too noticeable, nor were her little moans and whimpers. Still... "Maybe you should wait outside?" he murmured, trying not to use up too much breath. One built up a good lung capacity after a few days with the spritelion, but he wasn't sure how much longer he had in him.

"Mmm..." She looked up at him, lashes fluttering, button eyes shimmering with lust. She licked her lips, long tongue sensuously lingering over soft skin. Don't mind me, that tongue said. Just act like I'm not here.

Jerrod swallowed and made his way onwards, allowing her to cling to his arm. She started kissing his neck, moaning just a little bit louder. So they put up some kinda lust field? he thought, puzzled. Why? And targeting who? Damn it, this ain't the Thriae's kinda magic!

Thriae weren't much for mind control, aside from the buzzing and the poison. The buzzing and the poison were usually quite enough. He was getting a very ominous feeling. It was the same feeling he'd had on tht last voyage, when Captain Marian had told the helmswoman to steer the ship between the Mountain Reefs. The Black Boats had been waiting for them on the other side.

And then he came to the bedroom, and his jaw dropped.

The bed—that enormous, squishy, silk sheet-laden honeybed—was covered in spilled honey. Poor Senya lay sprawled out atop it, stuck on his back, and his whole naked body was just as messy. His eyes had gone a bright gold, the gold that showed he was fully under the Thriae's spell.

Lala was straddling him and bouncing, squealing with glee. Lata sat on the pillows at the head, offering her lap to him as a cushion as she poured the contents of a little clay pitcher down his throat. He was obediently gulping it all down. Even with his nose plugged, Jerrod could taste it on the air.

Mead. Worst case scenario.

The Thriae were clearly delighted with their prize, cooing and giggling over him like a shiny necklace they'd just acquired. "Drinky-drinky!" Lata sang. "Drink all that yummy-nummy up, stud, while she fucks your brains out! Oooh, you love it, don't you?"

"Stop this!" Jerrod snarled, rushing into the room. His head swam—the air was thick with mead in here. He grabbed Lata by the shoulder and jerked her back, causing the mead pitcher to fall and spill its contents all over the bed. "You goddamn honeywhores!"

"Ooh!" Lala beamed up at him, continuing to rise up and down on Senya's member. Her eyes gleamed golden. "Jerrod! You—unh—didn't say you'd be c-coming!" She squeaked the last word, shaking violently atop her 'Master'. Senya was crying out in shared bliss.

"Get off your Master!" he commanded, leaning against Seven for support. She was quite eager to hold him up, in fact, hungrily kissing his neck. "That's an order!"

Lala gave a happy sigh, still recovering from the orgasm. "S-silly stockman."

"You don't give orders!" Lata climbed off the bed and sauntered around him, coming to stand at his back. "You follow them." He felt her kissing his neck. "Why don't you—mm—get on the bed with him, big boy, and we can have some fun with you, too? Give you lots of sexy orders."

Jerrod's cock was tenting his trousers fiercely, but he swallowed his lust. "That won't work on me," he grunted, turning to face her. "And you can't attack me an' force me to drink. Th-that definitely goes against the rules."

She giggled. "I don't gotta attack you!" She leaned in, letting him smell her honeyed breath. Gods, she reeked of sweetness. It was almost disgusting, how saccharine it all was, but he knew he'd crave this sweetness soon enough. Jerrod's head was swimming. "You're gonna attack me," she purred.

Jerrod resisted the urge to take a deep breath to steady himself. He knew what was happening. He was getting hornier and hornier from the mead. They couldn't command him, but how horny could he get before he'd do whatever they told him just to cum? Behind, he could still hear Senya getting his brains fucked out by Lala. That could be him.

No fucking way. It was all well and good playing with the alraune or the scarecrows, but when these girls got in the mood... well, Thriae were Thriae. Jerrod bit his lip hard and gave Lata a hard shove, sending her flying back into the corner. She was so surprised, she just fell backwards and landed on her ass with an "Oof!"

He turned and, with one hand, grabbed Senya's hand. With the other, he grabbed Lala's shoulder and prepared to shove her off the man. "C'mon, Master, we're gonna—augh!"

Without warning, Seven had lowered to the floor and ripped off his trousers with the same strength she'd shown dealing with the doorknob. She moaned, staring at his tented underpants. "Can't think," she whispered, as though spellbound. "Gotta... fuck..."

He heard Lata laughing. "Ooh, what's her deal? I like this new scarecrow!"

"Like you don't know!" he snarled, grabbing Seven and trying to hold her at bay as her tongue shot out, eager to sample the growing stain in his undergarment. "Damn it, Eight, g-get ahold of your... yourself..."

And then Lata was right behind him again, wrapping her arms around his torso. "Good boy," she cooed, kissing his neck. He was tingling all over now. He knew, consciously, that he had to fight this, but his head felt like it was moving at half its normal speed. And these fey were moving as swiftly as ever to seduce him.

"Get off," he said, but his voice sounded weaker, even to him. Her kisses felt so nice. It was getting harder and harder to hold Seven back, too. Especially when he looked down at her wide, hypnotized eyes. He'd had her mouth before, but never like this.

"Don't you wanna take her?" Lata hissed in his ear. "Look at her, that little slut. You could make her your toy, not Bobbi's. Make her yours forever." She kissed long and wetly along his neck, nibbling at his lobe. "She'd do... anything for you right now." She breathed out the word like a gasping moan.

Jerrod was trembling—actually, seriously trembling. But he tried to hold on. "You can't hypnotize me," he growled.

"I don't have to, silly!" Lata licked the back of his neck. The gesture was... strangely dominant. "Mm. You want this. I can tell. So can she."

Seven smiled up at him. "Master," she breathed. "Be my Master? Lemme fuck you?"

Oh, fuck. It felt so good to hear her say that.

No! Jerrod forced his arms clear of Lata's embrace. She didn't try to hold them down, but the second his arms were free, there she was, slipping her arms underneath to caress his sides, holding him even tighter. And he was too weak now. Before his eyes, Seven slowly pushed forward against his weakening grasp, drooling with desire, and came to his underpants. She started to lick through the fabric, tasting his precum. Through the cloth, he could feel her tongue bathing his cock in loving licks.

And she was moaning like it was the best fucking she'd ever had.

"Imagine how she'd feel if you actually fucked her," Lata said, giggling.

Jerrod... couldn't help but imagine.

Slowly, the scarecrow pulled the cloth down, and his cock sprang free.

Jerrod's mind was melting into goo as she licked her lips and slowly began a long, perfect kiss.

~~~~

Bobbin made her way through the underbrush, cursing under her breath. This was not normal. Something was goddamned happening. Not on her watch. It did not end like this.

As she cast her gaze about and tried to sniff out the familiar scent of honey, she mentally compiled a list of important events.

Item One: Sylvia was missing. Now, Sylvia was the least imaginative of the Thriae when it came to seduction—whereas Lata and Lala sort of went back and forth over who was the chief domme, Sylvia was the sub of the three, no doubt about it—but she was a brilliant alchemist. Bobbin literally had no idea what she could be up to, and that terrified her. She could even meddle with the fey-bewares, maybe, if she really had gone rogue.

Item Two: Sylvia had gone missing after Bobbin had seen her, but before Bobbin had gotten back to... well, okay, Bobbin had been about to play a little with her, but then she'd been planning to bring her back to Senya. This had meant she'd wasted precious time looking for Sylvia in the nearby area, assuming she'd just lost sight of her. She'd assumed it was one of Sylvia's cute little games. Gods, she'd been so horny... horny and stupid. Why had she been so horny and stupid?

Item Three: Luckily, Bobbin had found two scarecrows and sent them off to fetch Jerrod, Valina, and the scarecrows. If the Thriae were rebelling, they needed all the help they could get to contain it.

Item Four: The Thriae weren't rebelling, they couldn't be rebelling. The wards on them were very strong! Trying to seduce a new Master, fine, but anything this covert and pre-arrayed? This was a masterstroke. If they were free-willed enough to plan anything like this...

Item five: Bobbin had really been very strangely horny when she'd left the house. Disoriented, even. But the Thriae couldn't have caused that, not without buzzing. And it hadn't affected Senya—he'd been horny, but anything that could make Bobbin horny would make poor Master molten beeswax in their claws. She'd have noticed. So why had Bobbin been so horny?

Item six...

"Oh! Oh, yes!"

Bobbin froze.

She was close to the wall, now, amid a large cluster of bushes and bamboo, perhaps ten minutes' walk from the hill—a quicker run, with Bobbin's legs. She was, as far as she could see, totally alone out here. The nearest other livestock cell was the spritelion pit, and even the pit was nowhere near as close as this sounded.

So where was that moaning coming from? And why did it sound so... familiar?

"Oh! Nnn! Mew!"

Bobbin froze. Was that... mewing?

Her eyes narrowed. Someone was getting denied.

Valina had always been a favorite of the Masters. She was a valuable warrior, being a trained veteran of multiple Eastern Feywilds, but she was also a catgirl, and catgirl fetishes ran in the family. Senya's great-great-great-grandfather had placed numerous triggers on her, including a truly sadistic denial trigger: If she ever sought pleasure without the Master's, stockman's or Bobbin's permission, she would be unable to come. And the longer she went without coming, the more she'd...

"Mew! MEWWWW!"

Even as her suspicions rose, Bobbin couldn't help but grin. The Kitten also had a lot of horniness-related triggers. The paper she'd given Senya didn't even list most of them—the old Master had never remembered to tell Bobbin them, so she'd worked out what she had through... trial and error. The mewing was one of the funnier ones, and it was a very unreliable trigger. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. The hornier she got, the more reliable the trigger became.

If Bobbin had to guess, Valina had been pleasuring someone else. Making other people cum made her cum, normally, but if it wasn't with permission... it would just deny her. Bobbin remembered how Senya's great-uncle had delighted in having Kitten service him for hours at a time. He would cum dozens of times in a row, but never allow her to do the same. The catgirl had always been reduced to a mewing mess by the end of things. It really was something to see.

It was then that it hit Bobbin: The bunkers!

Senya's fifth-great uncle had built quite a large number of "bedded bunkers" to enable short-notice couplings. The last two Masters hadn't used them, as they never had the patience or chivalry to move to a bed before making their pets bend over, so most of them had become quite overgrown. But Bobbin was certain there'd been one near here!

Experimentally, Bobbin stomped around a bit. She only felt moss and gravel beneath her feet, but she kept feeling her way around. After a couple minutes of mewling that was, frankly, making Bobbin incredibly horny and giving her a lot of ideas about punishments, she stomped on something hollow.

So, Valina, she thought, using her hands to rapidly unearth the trapdoor from the moss and sand and dirt, just what have you engineered today? And how badly do I want to punish you?

She'd been hearing Valine whimper and mewl and beg for permission for about two minutes now. Bobbin was pretty sure she knew how badly.

~~~~ ~~~~

Seven pulled her head back, a little line of drool connecting her plush lips to his cock. She smiled up at Jerrod, whose head was currently sinking into a drugged afterglow stupor.

He couldn't remember what he'd been so worried about. Lala and Lata wanted to fuck his brains out, to turn him into their toy, but... that kinda sounded really nice. He felt like he'd just drunk a whole barrel of the best brandy he'd ever tasted. His head was spinning, spun, sinking and dull and slow and so many other things, and all he could think about was how good Seven was at head, how good Lata would be at it.

"You want more, Master?" Seven whimpered. Jerrod shivered at the promise in her voice, soft and sweet. And being called Master. That sounded really good coming from her. The scarecrows had always taunted him, teased him with their ultimate loyalty to Bobbin. Now...