Guests of the Mapleseed Ch. 01

Lorelei's Note: This is a brand-new series in a brand-new fantasy setting called the Glowpebble Path. This series will contain themes of nonconsent, transformation, bimbos, gambling, addiction, monster girls, and possibly the occasional bad end.

Please remember that consensual nonconsent and hypnosis should always be practiced safely and ethically in the real world.

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True, total darkness was hard to come by. It crept beneath leaves, lurked behind boulders and bushes, made its home in the deepest depths of the cavernous weeping witchelms. No darkness survived long along the inner lengths of the Glowpebble Path.

The Glowpebble Path was not so much a road as it was a landscape, and it was not so much a landscape as it was a region, and it was not so much a region as it was a world. The smooth little pebbles chose a pattern to travel in, of course, a river of light none dared swim in, but the path was vast and sprawling, a pale rainbow hundreds of miles wide.

At the center of the path, the pebbles were placed so densely one couldn't even reach the precious enchanted earth beneath without digging. On the outskirts, one might have to deliberately search for minutes or even hours to find a glowpebble that had somehow found itself tucked within the petals of an unblossomed sugar buttercup. There the Path was so absent that the inhabitants considered themselves, wrongly, to be quite independent of it.

And, of course, even in those remote reaches, true darkness was usually put to flight by at least one of the seven beautiful moons.

It was only when clouds flooded the skies to block the demonic lights, when rain poured down and gathered mud and sludge to its cause and created a flood that could briefly submerge even the highest glowpebbles, when fairies and wisps and lamp sprites refused to come out to play or were forbidden to by their lords in the Underworld, could any stretch of land truly be called dark.

Only then was it truly not perilous to walk the Glowpebble Path.

Just miserable.

Celia blew upward, trying to dislodge a lock of wet silvery hair that had fallen in her eyes. The strand stayed stubbornly put. She gave an angry, rumbling sigh like an engine, but didn't dare release what she carried for one second to fix her hair.

The thief's heavy boots squished deep in the mud, nearly making her stumble.

Damn this rain. It was keeping her alive, but damn it anyways.

She needed to find shelter. Any shelter would do. She shot an annoyed lift at her cargo. Anywhere dry.

She'd had to drape it in waterproof canvasses, which didn't help one bit with the load. Those were the rules: covered with two oak's enemies and ten of the sun's wives cut before the dawn, protected from Styx's children, hidden from the little travelers' lanterns. Mistletoe and dead wasps and morning glory buds, protection from the rain, and shielded from glowpebble light. Simple. Heavy.

As inconvenient as it was, though, she didn't want to think about what might happen if it started to...

She froze.

A burglar needed good hearing, especially for the kinds of burglaring Celia partook in. You had to hear a door opening, the owner coming home early and hanging up his coat, a lantern being lit out of sight, a sword being loosened, a pistol being cocked. You needed to hear it before you even exactly noticed it.

When her head shot to the right, it was a second before she'd registered she'd heard it.

Music.

She almost laughed. Oh, that would be just perfect. Just what she needed--to run into some Fae, or a Concert, or a Revel, or...

She paused with a frown. Her head tilted to the side. The rain pounded and rattled against her poncho. The hair moved from tickling her cheek to tickling her nose.

That didn't sound... ethereal to her. Nor Fae.

A burglar also needed to know what sorts of perils could catch you after dark, because a lot of them liked to go after the wicked. Celia was very much of the wicked tonight.

But this... She squinted off into the murk. It was too dark to see anything. That was sort of the idea. But right now, it was a nuisance.

She turned and peered back the way she'd come.

Surely nobody could have followed her all this way.

Hissing in distaste, she dug the toes of one boot into the muck and probed around, then kicked up. Mud spattered against her face and wet her nose, and several little pebbles, each the size of a large coin and perfectly river-stone-smooth, went flying out into the darkness.

Light spilled in their wake.

It wasn't just that glowpebbles themselves, well, glowed. Any night traveler knew that. Light followed them. They gulped it down, swallowed and digested it like ravenous creatures. If you dislodged one, that light would spill. It would fall off them like dust from a fluttering bird's wings, settling and pooling on the ground and lingering there sometimes for hours before gradually being lost.

But while the light hung in the air, Celia squinted out into the retreating shadows and saw something out there. Something was walking with slow, measured steps towards the road.

And she was drop-dead gorgeous.

Celia was smart. Celia was careful. Celia didn't get herself into trouble with romance, or sex, or very obvious otherworldly tricksters in the shadows.

But her heart caught her breath in her chest and held it still, and she stared.

The beautiful woman giggled and tilted her head to the side. "Hi, cutie!"

Celia bit her lip.

The woman had bright, brilliant hazel eyes. That was the first thing Celia noticed. Hazel eyes, glinting in the light captured beneath her twirling umbrella. Hazel. So not a trick of the glowpebbles. Big, beautiful hazel eyes with thick lashes like weighty curtains, fluttering as if the only trouble with the rain was the risk to her mascara. She had generous black curls spilling down to her shoulders and bouncing up from them like the mist in a waterfall's wake. Her skin was that same soft hazel brown, with bright rosy cheeks untouched by rain or cold.

Her pretty face wasn't... exactly the reason Celia was flustered, though. Even if Celia wasn't used to pretty girls smiling at her like that.

The woman was dressed in a black silk leotard, like what a dancer might wear, form-fitting and absurdly low-cut to show off an equally absurd rack. A ridiculous little bowtie hung from the collar-esque choker. A delicate, almost ornamental-looking pink and white umbrella twirled behind her.

Celia tried not to let her eyes linger on those amply displayed curves, that flawless bared skin. Her eyes were too busy descending down the woman's svelte waist to the pert ass, barely concealed by the sheer leotard, and those sheer, enticing stockings hugging the thighs.

Fuck. Celia swallowed and tore her gaze back up to the woman's eyes. Atop the head, she belatedly realized, rose two fluffy pink-and-white bunny ears.

"H-Hey," she said, snapping her guard back up. She hadn't heard bunnyfolk were around this area, but they weren't fey, and it wasn't breeding season--she was pretty sure--so the main threat she was dealing with was a witness. Act casual. Act normal. "Some weather, huh?"

Normal people talked about weather, right?

The bunnygirl giggled and swung her hips to the side. Celia couldn't help but notice, as the bunnygirl hopped closer, a fluffy little white bunny tail poking out from the leotard. "Oh, is there?" She twirled on her toes, the sparkling pink umbrella twirling in the opposite direction, and glanced back the way she'd come. "Gosh, I'm just so nice and dry under here, I didn't even notice!"

Celia glowered her retort into the mud at her feet. She didn't dare act openly rude; people remembered rude travelers better than polite ones. Discretion, she figured, was the better part of manners. 'Discrete' was a whole lot easier than 'nice'.

"So what are you doing out here in all this rain?" the bunnygirl chirped, tilting her head to the side. One of the ears flopped cutely.

No. Not cutely. Annoyingly.

Celia rolled her eyes. "What am I doing out here?" She gave the finely-dressed bunnygirl a pointed stare, waiting for her to realize the stupidity of the question.

But the bunnygirl just kept smiling at her, that bright, innocent, un-adorable smile.

To her embarrassment, Celia found she was the first to duck her head. Eye contact was hard. "Just a traveler," she muttered. "Making my way to Amberbury."

"What's that?"

Celia flinched. Her eyes shot to her cargo, but the girl wasn't looking at it--just at her, with that same bright smile. There was no guile in those eyes. They shone with innocence. That made Celia even more suspicious. "What's what?"

"Ambunn--Ambybur--" The bunnygirl screwed up her face, blushing. "Ambunnybury!" she squeaked at last, beaming.

Celia held in her chuckle. Nobody was this stupid, and... something struck her as odd. Two somethings, actually. "It's a town," she said tersely. "Right next to the Amber Hills. Hey, what was that music earlier? And--" She flicked her head toward the bunnygirl's feet and grimaced as the stray lock of hair tickled her lip. "How the fuck are you wearing heels out there?"

The bunnygirl blinked at Celia and smiled slightly, as if Celia was almost adorably stupid. She tapped her foot deliberately against the ground.

The tapping was that of wood against stone.

Celia squinted down. She realized that there was virtually no mud where Celia stood, nor were there any glowpebbles. Instead, the rainwater water flowed clean over expertly-cut cobblestones. Between each stone danced tiny little runes, each a little living spell.

Her cheeks went warm. Oh.

"I see," she said aloud, hoping her blushing wouldn't be obvious in the minimal light.

"The music's just back from where I came," the bunnygirl went on with a giggle. "You can't see the entrance through the rain, though, which is why I stay out here when it storms to tell people!"

Celia folded her arms. "In the darkness."

"It's nice in the dark." Another girlish giggle, popping her foot. "It's so bright and warm indoors, all the time! Out here it's... quiet. And cool." She tilted her head to the side, a happy, vague smile on her face as she looked Celia up and down. Celia felt oddly naked under that stare.

Which was a laugh, considering how the two of them were dressed. Celia wore a practical muddy green poncho and wide-brimmed hat, sensible muddy-green trousers with plenty of pockets, and tall black combat boots. She didn't wear makeup to show off her pale eyes--she didn't think they were anything much to look at anyways--and she cut her shoulder-length pale silver hair herself with a knife once a month. Under the poncho she wore a coat of furs and leathers that held more knives than even she knew what to do with. Back home she'd kept some of them in a vase like flowers.

The staring was staring to make her flustered again, though. She ducked her head. "What are you--"

In a flash, the bunnygirl was right in her face. Resting one hand on Celia's shoulder for balance, she leaned forward from the cobble path and reached down with her other hand. Before Celia could sputter any four-lettered objections, those delicate silken-gloved fingers were caressing her cheek.

It was as if her indignation had been stopped with a cork.

She stared with wide eyes at the bunnygirl's eyes of sparkling hazel. Such pretty natural hues of green and brown. A shiver passed through Celia's body as the fingertips ran along her cheekbone, so delicate and gentle as they arced towards her lips...

... and plucked that stray lock out of her face to tuck it back behind her ear.

With a slight push against Celia's shoulder, the bunnygirl righted herself back onto the path. Celia stumbled back, staring speechless. Rage and indignation and embarrassment and other disallowed emotions all fought for a voice, but all she could manage was a pathetic, impotent, "... Hey!"

"Hi!" The bunnygirl giggled. "My name's Penny! What's yours!"

She bounced on her tiptoes.

Celia glared and started walking away.

"Hey!" Penny protested. "Where are you--"

"I have a lot of ground to cover tonight," Celia muttered. "I don't have time for this nonsense."

"But don't you wanna stay and wait out the rain?"

Celia hesitated.

She sort of did, was the problem. Badly. The storm was much worse than she'd expected, and it was a two-edged knife--drowning out her footprints and drowning out her in the same unyielding downpour.

But she could still gain at least another mile tonight, even if Amberbury wasn't likely to be in the cards. Once she hit the denser thickets, she could find someplace to make camp.

And she didn't like this. She didn't trust Penny. Maybe she wasn't a hallucination, but there were all kinds of things out here after dark that were very real. And Penny was too sweet, too chipper, too...

... pretty.

She was glad she'd turned away to hide her blushing cheeks. "I know how to find shelter. I'm in a hurry."

"But you'll freeze out here!"

Penny sounded genuinely distressed, just enough to thaw Celia's resolve a little. A bit. Just a few drops off the glacier, nothing to change her decision. She turned, wincing at her aching back. She had come a long way carrying this wretched thing. "I'll be fine," she said tersely. "I made it this far, didn't I?"

Penny wrung her hands. "Won't you at least stop for a meal, to warm yourself up?"

Celia searched for a polite way to say no. She usually didn't care about being polite, but, well... pissing off faeries and demons wasn't a good idea, was it? It probably wasn't a good idea to piss off bunnyseductresses, either, if that was what Penny was.

And if Penny really was just a bimbo bunnygirl... well, fuck, Celia wasn't heartless yet. She looked into those big brown eyes, practically welling with tears at the thought of Celia venturing into 'danger'...

... fuck, Celia really needed a rest.

"Sorry," she mumbled, shifting her position as she noticed her boots sinking just a little too far into the mud. "I mean... I'm just in a real hurry, is all. I'm sure your inn's nice."

Penny smiled brightly. "Just a little sit-down, then?" She clasped her hands innocently behind her back and leaned forward, umbrella twirling and twinkling behind her. "A cup of chocolate?"

Celia couldn't help it. Her eyes flitted down to Penny's chest. With that low-cut outfit and that posture, the bunnygirl's cleavage was... quite generously on display.

With embarrassing reluctance, she shook her head. "I... thanks, but--"

"You must be tired." The bunnygirl bounced on her toes, clearly hopeful. Her breasts jiggled with the motion. "Just for a second?"

Too eager, Celia's gut warned her. She's too eager by half.

But she does seem worried about me...

Celia chewed on her lower lip. She didn't like being put under social pressure like this. It was making her feel flustered, and the sight of Penny's bouncing breasts wasn't helping. "Listen, I'm..." She tried to remember the line she'd heard once. "I'm flattered, but I'm just--going to different places, and, um, it's not... it's not you, it's--" Stop staring at her tits stop staring at her tits stop staring at her tits...

"Just a quick rest stop can't hurt," Penny said reasonably, tilting her head to the side and batting her eyelashes coquettishly. "We can get you some dry clothes, something nice and warm to drink..."

Celia fought back the rush of eagerness, the cozy glow at the thought of a warm, dry place to sit and set down her cargo for a few minutes. It crept in anyways. "The inn's just over that hill?" she asked, eyes narrowed, flicking her head back where Penny had come.

"No, silly!" Penny giggled and turned where Celia had indicated, then back to Celia. Her boobs bounced from the swift motion. Celia realized she was staring again and tore her gaze back to Penny's bright hazel eyes, which didn't feel much safer. "It's under the hill!"

Right. Bunnyfolk. Celia bit her lip. "I don't know," she mumbled, and flushed at how awkward she sounded.

But Penny just smiled that radiant smile, eyes sparkling. She bounced on her toes. "Just for a minute," she promised. "You'll feel so much better."

Just for a minute. In spite of her stalwart struggle, Celia felt her worries starting to ebb. Just a minute couldn't hurt, could it? And the inn was just over there--all-but-within sight of the road. And Penny seemed so sweet and harmless. Just a bunnygirl with pretty eyes trying to help a traveler in need.

And Penny's eyes were so pretty. At first Celia had felt flustered by the eye contact, but it felt easier and easier as time went on to meet Penny's gaze. Those eyes made her feel relaxed. Safe. Unconcerned. They flickered with orange and green flames in the dim, fading light. Celia's heart fluttered, but she didn't look away.

She felt her head tilted slightly to the side, lips parting slightly.

So... pretty...

Penny giggled and fluttered her lashes again, and Celia snapped out of it. "So? Please?"

Celia's back ached with her burden. She hesitated a moment longer, her eyes flitting from Penny's eyes to Penny's gorgeous rack.

She swallowed. "Yeah, okay," she said, blushing redder at how weak her voice sounded. She was just so, so tired. "Fine," she added, trying to sound reluctant.

"Yes!" Penny positively hopped up and down, and Celia's heart leaped up her throat and throttled her brain as those breasts bounced majestically up and down. This woman was wearing heels. How were bunnygirls always so ridiculously fucking agile?

That thought dropped away as Penny lunged forward and took Celia by the shoulder, helping her onto the path. As she did so, Celia was treated to a view directly down Penny's cleavage, and her mind went a little wobbly for a second.

Penny was leading her down the cobble path. Celia's calves practically creaked with relief at meeting solid ground. Her muddy boots splashed clean in the clear rainwater.

As Penny went, she kept twirling around to face Celia, and Celia could swear those boobs got closer to bouncing clear of their restraints with every spin.

Penny was talking, chattering, babbling at a book a minute. Celia was having trouble paying attention. Mostly it was just about how happy Penny was that Celia had seen reason, how good Penny thought she was at persuading people, how people always agreed with her. Just pointless prattle. Celia was having trouble paying attention. Her mind kept wandering.

By now she was staring openly. As close as Penny was, as short as Penny was, surely Penny wouldn't notice the slight difference in angle. It was easy to stare.

Up and down they bounced. Up and down. Penny prattled something about how good Celia was being, and Celia wanted to roll her eyes, but she felt so tired, and it was so easy to...

She managed to snap out of it a second before the bell rang. The sound shocked her back to her senses, and she looked up, startled.

Penny's eyes sparkled with mischief. Celia squirmed. Oh, Penny had definitely noticed.

The bunnygirl's silk-gloved hand gripped the pullstring of a large doorbell. They stood on a doorstep carved into the hillside, the underground porch paved with smooth pink stone--granite, maybe--and lit with a rather small teardrop-shaped lamp.

Celia's eyes fled anywhere but Penny's. "Um... don't you have trouble with flooding?" she asked.

"Oh, silly!" Penny giggled, making Celia flush as she realized too late how stupid this question was. "It's magicked just like the path!"

"Right," Celia muttered. She shifted her weight. "So, how long--"

The door flew open, and the lights within practically blinded her. Rosy pink light surged from the doorway like a horde of imprisoned spirits. Celia's eyes snapped shut, and she groaned in pain. Pain that almost as quickly blossomed into pleasure.