Wicked Amusement Ch. 07

"I am not so confident. And now that you know my daughter's... situation, you will understand my eagerness for this to be over and done with."

"Cellemist doesn't want this bullshit, y'know." Snatch rubbed his neck. "She knows it's fucked up. Do you even listen to her?"

"Mm." Cellesixe raised an eyebrow, pausing to examine a cluster of foxgloves. "You're a man who appreciates simplicity, so I'll be honest. The druidess is our most important asset. You are, essentially, part of a package deal."

Snatch felt a bit surpised at this. Not offended, of course. Just surprised. "Really?"

"A druidess has a pull that we mundanes lack," Cellesixe said. "A tie to the fey. We have been trying to lure the sidhe to us for a long time, and we've tried hypnosis, we've tried brute force, goodness, we've even tried hiring other fey to help." She turned away from the flowers, holding up her index finger. "What we haven't tried is a druid. Druids tug at fey in ways no one else can."

"Do they."

Cellesixe nodded. "The muse sprite will be drawn to Larya. Irresistibly. That is to say, if Larya is... properly arranged. You?" She shrugged. "Not so much."

Snatch considered this. "So you hired us to use her as bait."

"More or less." Cellesixe sighed. "I had hoped to resolve this simply. I had hoped that you could be the teeth to complete the trap. But she now knows what is happening, and ... well, it puts me in a difficult situation." She hunched over. The mob boss was perfectly silent for a long moment, seemingly fixated on a cluster of wild columbines. "Tell me, Snatch, do you know what I think we should do next?"

Snatch chewed on his inner lip. He didn't like the tone. "No," he said. He shot a side-glance at the elf, who appeared quite distracted by the colorful blooms. A thousand possible actions drifted through his head. Every one drifted right back out in turn.

There was nothing he could do. Cellesixe was in control of this scene, and she knew it. And if she died, then what? Killing her wouldn't solve any problems. The world didn't work that way. At least one person was going to die because of what he did today, and there was nothing good or fair about it.

"Do you... do you ever think about death, Sixe?" he asked abruptly.

Cellesixe didn't turn around. She seemed to still be smiling, though he couldn't tell with her back to him. "I come from the Republic of Merikeet, Snatch."

Snatch swallowed reflexively. His mind raced—just how old was Cellesixe? "Not much of a Republic anymore," he said, unsure what else to say.

"I was among those who resisted that." Cellesixe leaned down, plucking out columbine blooms with an almost callous air. She gathered up the flowers and began weaving them into her braids. "I was there when the Tesmact Clique fell. You know, they say I profited from the Chosen's rise..." She trailed off for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was as wispy as dandelion seeds. "How can anyone, man or woman, elf or human, say they profited from such a day?"

Snatch bit his upper lip.

"Tell me, Snatch." Cellesixe held the last orange bloom between her finger and thumb. "Do you like flowers?"

"No," Snatch said, after a brief hesitation. "They make me sick. Smell like death. We put 'em around coffins."

"I'm not surprised." Cellesixe straightened, tossing the last severed flower back onto the ground. It spiraled down like a maple seed. "You need this cure very badly."

Snatch swallowed. He stared deep, deep into ancient eyes on that youthful face. "People are gonna die," he said flatly.

"Yes," Cellesixe agreed. "I thought so." The crime boss let the words hang there for a full ten seconds. Let them swing like old friends on the gallows. "And so you are going to let me do what I must."

"You can't kill the druidess," Snatch said. He was surprised at how quickly he said it. "Or brainwash her. She's... I owe her one."

"We wouldn't dream of harming her! But... she must be kept busy."

Snatch started to nod, then frowned. "Thought you said you needed her." His head cocked. "As bait, right?"

"Mm." Cellesixe gave him a wide smile. "And who's to say we can't kill two birds with one stone?"

~~~~

The leannán sídhe—or 'Lea', as she liked to call herself—crept through the canopies above the elf town of Celestia. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Something was pulling her. That was all she knew. Something new. Something strong. Intoxicating. She kept trying to think about it, but every time she thought she had a handle on things, a little twinge in her clit made the thought scatter. Her pussy was wet and tingling. Her nipples ached. Something was wrong, and she couldn't think about it.

Part of her wanted to just fall to the ground and masturbate her brains out. Another part of her told her that this would be suicide, when above Celestia. The elves would net her in an instant. And the main part of her, a part she was unable to think about at all, told her that masturbating would slow her down. And she needed to get to the source of... this. Fast.

Leannáns weren't exactly known for their self-control. They were fey embodiments of love and creativity. Some even called them 'muse sprites', so weak was their control over their instincts. But Lea was no sprite, and she knew what she was getting into.

At least, that's what her mind kept assuring her. Every time she tried to turn back, her pussy would twinge, her nipples would tingle, and she would feel a sense of euphoria wipe out all sense of where she was. All she could do was cling to the branch until the strange joyous vertigo faded and she was able to resume her journey.

The sense was strong. More urgent than Cellemist, a longing that had dulled to a numb ache as long as she avoided trying to go too far from town. Her infatuation with Cellemist was irresistible, but not time-sensitive.

This, though...

Lea knew she was close to the center of the elf town now. All a keen-eyed elf had to do now was look up and spot the naked purple woman climbing through the branches, and she would be done for. But Lea's mind didn't allow her to worry about that. She needed to get close. She needed to see. Needed to see.

And she arrived.

Lea perched atop one of the fibrous elf dwellings and stared down at the fountain. Her vision had turned misty, and she struggled to make sense of it as her lust began to pound like a drum's unyielding rhythm.

She saw Ceffyl first, and her eyes widened. The kelpie, a local-sort-of-rival of hers, lay half submerged in the water and giggling like mad. Her hands clutched the breasts of the druidess, Larya, and seemed to be fondling them with the terrifying skill only Ceffyl possessed, teasing and tweaking the nipples with merciless mastery, keeping Larya just on the edge but pleading for more.

The dark-haired druidess was gasping and moaning, her eyes wide open, drowning in Ceffyl's hypnotic ocean. Ceffy was in her true form now—dusky-skinned, curvy, with long, straggly black hair, pointy horselike ears, and big brown eyes that could bewitch a blind man.

Larya looked like she could barely move. She was caught in a hypnagogic daze, yes, but it wasn't just sleepiness. She looked like moving was itself difficult for her. Like she was weighed down by something. She let out a loud cry as Ceffy pinched a nipple, utterly helpless to resist, or even to touch herself. Lea felt her fingers creep down to her pussy.

The third thing Lea saw was the crowd, and this was what sealed her fate.

Twenty elves had gathered around the display. To a one, they were openly masturbating, stroking their cocks, using toys on their pussies. Some had collapsed into couplings and orgies, or forced each other to serve as toys for their own satisfaction. All were consumed in lust, crying out, orgasming to the sight of the druidess's plight. The entire scene was one of lust gone wild.

She knew this had to be a trap. She knew it was a trick. It had been arranged, it had been set up. Larya had betrayed her, willingly or no. Every second she spent touching herself was a second not spent escaping. A second an elf could glance up, see her, and sound the alarm. Another second towards death. This tableau of sex and sensuality was designed to destroy her.

As Lea continued to stroke herself, she let out a small whimper.

~~~~ ~~~~

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