Wicked Amusement Ch. 05

What kind of town didn't have a tavern? One with a brothel, apparently.

Snatch had decided to play it safe and wait outside. He wasn't even sure the elves served drinks in there, and besides, getting drunk around a bunch of sex-crazed prostitutes seemed like a bad idea. He leaned against the strange bismuth-like dwelling. The wall was fibrous, but not actually that uncomfortable. It was sort of like leaning against a haybale.

"Hi, pretty boy!" sang a female voice. Snatch turned as a beautiful blonde elf came skipping around the corner, her braided pigtails bouncing with every footfall. Another part of her was bouncing, he noticed, seeing her considerable bosom barely contained in a dark corset. The vaguely familiar prostitute stopped directly in front of him, blinking big, rusty iron eyes, and beamed. "Oh, you are pretty, aren't you?"

"He doesn't seem like much." Snatch jumped. Dressed in a dark green corset was Pellesise. The red-haired elf's lips were painted a deep violet now. "But it's all about ferocity with these humans, Isamine."

"Ooh, yes," Isamine whispered. She leaned in. "We both know you're so much more, aren't you, big boy?"

Snatch grimaced and leaned away. "Fuck off. I'm working for Cellesixe now."

"Teehee!" Isamine leaned back into Pellesise's arms. "Who isn't? That's what makes it fun!" Her fellow prostitute gave a shove, and suddenly Snatch found himself pinned against the wall by slender hands grasping his arms. Isamine's lips were just millimeters from his own. They brushed against his when she spoke. "Welcome to the family."

As the words came out, so did something else. Snatch's eyes widened, and he found himself leaning in despite himself as the sweet smoke entered his lungs. Their lips locked for a fraction of a second before Isamine pulled away, giggling like mad. "Oh, you'reeasy!" She clapped her hands delightedly. "What a little slut my roomies have found! I can't wait to ride you later."

"Isamine." The third elf came into view, and Snatch stiffened, recognizing Illetrys. The elf's long red hair was immaculate styled now, unlike when they had last met, and her painted eyes were closed almost to slits in happiness as she smiled at him. "And our beloved boytoy. It's such a ... pleasure." She was dressed in a very simple red skirt and red crop top, showing off a flat, toned belly.

"It is," Pellesise agreed, her index finger playing over her lips. "But I must be off to report to Cellesixe." With a twirl, she blew kisses to Isamine, Illetrys and Snatch. "I'll see you all later."

She walked off, hips swaying with every step, but the other two prostitutes lingered. That wasn't a good sign.

Illetrys stretched, her silken top visibly straining against her bounteous breasts. The elf's gaze settled on her fellow lady of the night. "Isamine?"

A strange look came into Isamine's eyes. She turned to Illetrys with a look of utter adoration. "Illetrys!"

Like a starving woman who'd just seen a platter of dumplings, Isamine ran forward, leaving Snatch alone by the wall. She arrived before Illetrys and immediately dropped to her knees. Illetrys stooped, giving Snatch an easy glimpse of her breasts beneath the top, and smiled patronizingly down at her coworker. "Be a good girl and show him what we get when we obey."

"Pleasure," gasped Isamine, reaching down into her crotch and jamming her fingers under her pants with what looked like practiced ease. She stared up at Illetrys's breasts, gasping and whining with every thrust inward. Snatch felt his cock getting hard as he watched the wanton display.

"You like them, don't you?" Illetrys said, looking up at Snatch. She pressed her hands against either side of her rack and gave it a little jiggle. Snatch jumped, realizing he'd been staring, and hurriedly looked away.

But looking away couldn't shut out Isamine's whines and pleas as she struggled to reach her orgasm—an orgasm it seemed she was having trouble achieving. Looking away couldn't shut out Illetrys's voice. "I know you do, boytoy. And I think it makes you feel good to look at them."

Snatch's head was spinning as the smoke did its job. "No, it doesn't," he heard himself say, his voice sounding oddly distorted.

"Oh, no?" There was an odd challenge in her voice. It galled him. "You seem afraid of them! Afraid my titties will melt that little brain of yours?"

"Of course not," he muttered. "Fucking stupid."

"I think you are scared!" Illetrys exclaimed. "Izzy? What do you think, you little slut?"

"Aah ... so sexy ..."

"That's right." Illetrys's voice was smug. "My big, sexy tits are too much for him, I guess."

"Oh, come on." Snatch glared and turned to look straight at them. "You're just trying to get me to—"

He found himself staring straight at two beautiful, slightly green-tinted breasts, each as big as a small honeydew melon. Her nipples were the color of pine needles, her aerolae the color of fresh grass. Illetrys smiled winningly at him. "Are you sure?" She lifted the breasts with her hands, showing them off with evident delight. Directly beneath her, Isamine moaned and squirmed, prostrate on the dusty ground. Squishing noises came incessantly from between her legs as she continued to struggle.

Snatch stared at the breasts as they lightly jiggled again. They were so full. So round. "Yes," he said, but his voice sounded unsure. Could he be sure? He was still looking, after all.

Illetrys laughed at a joke he didn't quite understand. "You're still looking. I think you're getting hard, too." Her tone, her voice, it all oozed sexuality. Her lips seemed to embrace each word with orgasmic delight. He found himself shaking. The world was getting hazy, but he could see those breasts, could see her gleeful eyes, could hear Isamine's moans, could feel his hardening cock... "My breasts are just overpowering you, aren't they?"

"No," he whispered. "Smoke."

Isamine let out a tormented cry.

"Mm. Doesn't it feel good?" Illetrys bounced her breasts in her hands. "To submit?"

It took all of Snatch's willpower not to answer. The silence hung there like sticky strands of spiderweb, tugging at him, urging him to fill it. His cock throbbed with passionate longing. Fill it.

Isamine let out a whimper. "Yes," she whispered. Snatch felt enormous relief, realizing that the question had not been directed at him at all. Then he realized just how vulnerable he was right now. Because it did feel good.

"I know it does," Illetrys said silkily. Her fingers started to trace around her nipples, very slightly, very slowly. "And it feels good to answer my questions, doesn't it?"

He struggled against the suggestion. "No," he mumbled. But she smiled nonetheless, and he realized that this was still playing right into her hands. His face felt hot. His body felt hot.

"Doesn't it?" Illetrys lowered her head, raising her left breast slightly, and gave the nipple a little tender lick. As she did so, she let out a moan, almost of pain. "So good. So good to just feel. Just feel."

Just feel. Snatch felt his control weakening. He couldn't remember what he'd just been upset about. He just felt his cock struggling against its confines. Illetrys was still speaking, but he was having trouble tuning into her words. It was so hard to do things other than just ... feel.

And it just felt wonderful. He knew he couldn't admit it, but it felt amazing. His member was so hard, so desperate to be free, so eager to shove within Illetrys's plump lips, or between her luscious breasts, or between her legs, or wherever she wanted. Isamine lay there in the dust, jilling herself with demented need. He could join her there. He knew it would damn him, but he suddenly wanted it more than anything.

"Is there something you want?" he heard Illetrys coo, as his hearing zoned back in on her. He stared at her breasts, then, with difficulty, tore his gaze away from them—only to find his gaze locked on her lips, curved upwards in a smile.

"No," he whispered, his voice weak and devoid of conviction. A moment later, he heard Isamine whisper something else, and realized to his horror that he was again hearing questions not meant for him. And Illetrys's smile grew just a tad.

"You've been very good," said Illetrys, stooping down. Snatch followed her, barely distinguishing her delectable body from the misty world, and saw that Isamine had rolled over on her back.

Isamine's face was bright red, and slick with sweat. Her eyes were screwed shut. Her hands were both shoved between her legs, her pants only halfway down to her ankles. It was a humiliating, pathetic pose. Snatch imagined himself doing what she was doing—prostrate, desperate, lying beneath those wonderful breasts, submitting. Pure submission. He looked at Isamine's gasping lips and imagined those lips touching him as they had before. He remembered her smoky kisses.

Illetrys looked up at Snatch and smirked. "You're coming along nicely, aren't you?"

"No," he mumbled.

"I thought so." She giggled. "Let's test it. Every time she says 'yes', you're gonna get a little bit hornier. You're gonna moan a little. Your brain's gonna crack a little, like a little birdy egg. Sound good?" She bounced her breasts in her hands again.

"No," he said, nodding slightly.

Illetrys grinned and looked away. She asked Isamine something else, but Snatch didn't hear it. Then Isamine spoke.

"Yes," she gasped, writhing in place. Snatch felt something in him rise. He shook and moaned. His cock was straining against its confines, begging to be released. He found his hand creeping downward, gently rubbing it through his trousers.

Illetrys asked something else. "Oh, yes," Isamine whimpered, "I am, I am, oh, yes, yes, yes." Snatch's cock throbbed with need. He leaned heavily against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. He let out a soft cry.

He couldn't help himself. Just a little touch couldn't hurt, could it? He started to stroke himself, despite every bone in his rational body telling him to stop. Those bones might as well have been rubber right now. In fact, his knees were starting to buckle.

Something in him told him that if his ass touched the ground, he would enter a different domain. The domain of Isamine, of submissive, needy toys for Illetrys's pleasure. And there were others watching, too. He could see their glinting silver eyes emerging from the smoke, their curvacious elven forms swaying in time to some unheard music.

If he fell, he would totally be in Illetrys's power, and she would use that power. Use him. And that was wrong. Right? So he'd better come before it happened.

So he gave up on not stroking. He stroked openly, rubbing his member through his trousers, through the rough fabric of his underwear. It pulsed, feeling gooey within its confines. It was ready. He was going to come, and soon.

"Yes," Isamine whined, "yes, please, anything! I'll fuck him, I'll whip him, I'll tickle him 'til he turns blue, but please, please—"

"Fill him with smoke," came Illetrys's voice, loud and rough enough that it registered for Snatch. She sounded rather bothered himself, but that was surely just a trick of his addled mind. Nothing could bother Illetrys, surely. She was basically unstoppable. He almost laughed at the notion, then stopped himself.

What was happening to him?

Then something grabbed him by the ankles. He looked down, past his stroking hand, and saw Isamine on all fours. Her face was still beet-red, and her eyes were glazed over with rosy film. She was utterly intoxicated. Utterly mastered.

But he didn't care about any of that, he realized. The blonde elf crawled up his form, hot, sweaty hands running over his waist, grazing over where his cock was, then seizing his shoulder. She pulled herself up, as though her legs weren't fully working, and stared at him with those big, hungry eyes.

"Open," commanded Illetrys from afar.

Snatch tried to resist. It didn't matter. Isamine grabbed his face on both hands, caressing his cheeks with wonder, then began running her fingers over her lips. Before long, a finger was inside his mouth, and he tasted her sweet, musky juices. His mouth opened involuntarily, mind swimming in the sweetness, as more fingers came inside and he licked and slurped them off. It was all reflexive, he told himself, but it also felt unspeakably good to do.

"You see?" Illetrys said. "You can't fight this. It feels too good to give in."

He heard Isamine whispering something under her breath with each suck, each lick. It sounded like.... "...yes....yes...yes..."

His hips thrust towards her, but she leaned away, not allowing him a sheathe—not that his trousers would let him. Pleasure was rioting within Snatch like a forest fire with each little whisper, and he gasped from need. He stroked his cock mindlessly, not caring that he would cream himself at this point, just desperate to come.

"Obedience is pleasure," Illetrys said. Her voice was as soft and smooth as a silk glove. "Submission is ecstasy. Can you feel it? Just feel, my sweet toy. Feel her. Feel my power over her, and you."

He could. It felt so wonderful as his eyelids finally fluttered shut. And in that moment, Isamine kissed him.

The sweet smoke filled his lungs in seconds. She did not let go. Her plush lips held him captive as she blew into him, wrapping her arms around his head, thrusting her tongue into his mouth to spar with his own. He moaned, his fingers speeding up. She moaned, too. And she was still talking. "Mm—yes—mmuh—oh, yes—yes—mmyes—"

Illetrys laughed. "You can't fight. It just keeps feeling better, does it? You're too weak, and pleasure just makes your mind softer. More willing."

Snatch's mind was ablaze, and he felt his willpower breaking down like tissue paper in water. He returned the kiss, willingly breathing in the wondrous smoke, feeling new life and passion surging within him. His eyes opened and stared right into Isamine's red-rimmed silver orbs.

"You are, after all, only human."

Isamine giggled, pulled out of the kiss, and blew.

He came. Explosively. The pleasure shot through him, shot through his desperately throbbing cock, and he felt his underwear suddenly fill with cum as he hit an unbearable orgasm. He cried out in bliss and fell backwards, feeling Isamine release him.

Only some lingering instinct led him to grab onto the doorknob. Only that bare reflex kept him from hitting the ground. He held himself like that for a moment, halfway prone, bucking against air as the ecstasy consumed him.

Then, ignoring the giggles and laughs of the elves, he managed to open the brothel door and rush inside. Anything would be better than Illetrys right now, he knew. The smoke was rising inside him, and the clarity from cumming was mixing with a hungry need for more—more pleasure, more smoke, more submission. He staggered through the doorway.

The brothel wasn't as full as before, thank the gods. An elf man gasped hungrily as he licked out the cunt of a screaming elf woman. The woman glanced at him, and a funny look entered her eyes. She smiled, then let out a crooning moan. Something about this moan was ... musical. Hypnotic, even.

Snatch turned, stumbled to the nearest door, and yanked it open.

The air was slightly less rosy in here, and the smell of drugs was somewhat less strong, but the smell of smoke couldn't leave Snatch's head. He fell to his knees, shaking. That was an overdose. Definitely an overdose. Already, his cock was hard again, ordering him to run back to Isamine and pound her wet slit until he melted away. Or run back to Illetrys and beg for her mastery.

He pushed himself to his feet and looked around. There was a counter on the left side of the room. An abnormally tall elf in goggles stood behind the counter, washing a glass with a cloth. Two elves sat at the counter, and to Snatch's strange relief, he saw that they were not doing anything remotely carnal, as far as he could tell.

It was a bar.

He stumbled along the wall to a stool and slumped against the counter. He held up one trembling hand. "Bitterbrew," he grunted. "Black. And someone close that door."

The bartender arched an eyebrow, then shrugged and went to oblige. As the door closed, Snatch heard a parting shot from Illetrys that made his blood run cold—except in one throbbing spot.

"We'll be thinking of you, Alrek!"

~~~~

Larya rushed after Lim, her head clouded with doubts and arousal. Splitting up with Snatch had seemed like such a good idea at the time—and he'd seemed to prefer it—but she wasn't sure he'd be alright by himself. Not while he was high like that.

And, she privately admitted, she wasn't sure she'd be alright. The catgirl's pert rear end jiggled with every step she took, and Larya had to work hard at not concentrating on that, or on the flicking little tail that arched up from the rear and danced about, drawing Larya's gaze. Drawing her eyes back and forth. Always back towards that bubble butt. Back and forth. Mesmerizing.

"Um, Larya?"

Larya blinked. Lim wasn't walking now. The catgirl had turned around, but only from the belly, so her butt was still plainly visible. Larya slowly looked up and met Lim's gaze. The catgirl's bright eyes seemed rather clouded at the moment, though with what thoughts, Larya didn't know.

"Yes?" Larya asked. She felt completely off-center. The tail kept flicking, and she kept wanting to just look back for a second. It was almost like the tail was trying to tell her something. She found her eyes trailing back ...

"Nevermind," Lim chirped. There was a funny catch to her voice that made Larya wonder, but then she turned and her ass started moving again, now with a pronounced sway. Larya found her eyes following it and the tail as she slowly walked after. Was Lim doing that on purpose?

She was still wet. Larya could tell. Could smell. Lim was totally naked. Larya rationalized it to herself. She doesn't know I'm looking, she thought, mostly because she wanted to think it. She wouldn't mind. She's so beautiful. Fuck, I just wanna ...

Back and forth. Back and forth.

"Larya?" Lim said softly.

"Huh?" Larya blinked and looked up. Lim was regarding her again, her eyes still clouded. Her ears were sticking straight up. She turned around fully and smiled at her. "We're here."

Larya swallowed. She was still in a daze, but it was starting to clear now. Shitt. Was I hypnotized by her ... shit. Worse, she could tell by Lim's expression that the catgirl knew.

Had it been deliberate? It couldn't have been. Lim would never do something like that—Larya could just tell. Or could she? Maybe Lim had taken advantage of the hypnosis somehow. Spoken words to her. Words to make her horny, make her submissive, make her rationalize ...

Larya shook herself. This wasn't paranoia; this was wishful thinking. You have a job to do, Larya, she told herself. Focus.

She bit her lip and looked around, and her mouth fell open.

They had arrived at the entrance to a small mossy glade. And by mossy, Larya meant mossy—as mossy as the goblin glade from before. Every strip of ground, every branch, every trunk, every boulder—it was all coated in a thick, luxuriant layer of bright green moss. Silky moss hung down from the branches above, creating an almost veiled effect. The moss extended in all directions, making it rather difficult to get her bearings.

"Where are we?" Larya whispered.

"Mm." Lim was smiling at her. "Call it a studio. We're hunting a muse, right? Well, old druid trick: We need to make some performance art to draw her in"

"Um." Larya's mouth was dry. "What sort of ... performance art?"