Happy Holly Daze

Lorelei's Note: This story continues where the Warm Welcome series left off, albeit with a bit of a timeskip. Content warning for nonconsent, mind control, and bad archaic modern English LISTEN I DID TRY

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

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gretel shivered. It was a harsh evening to be traveling this dark road alone. It was colder and harsher still knowing the warm, soft bed--and company--he'd left behind.

He'd finally made it out of the sorceress sorority's clutches. After months of being their good, docile little plaything, he'd finally mustered the will to... to...

He flushed, drawing his wizard's robes tighter around him. Okay, he'd finally admitted to Maye that he couldn't ever escape on his own and they'd happily sent him on his way--albeit with promises that he'd always be welcome back under their roof.

A welcome that would be hard to resist right now, he thought miserably, clutching his arms tight to his chest as the wind picked up and sent snowflakes swirling into his fluffy pink hair. He'd caught a glimpse of his reflection in a frozen pool earlier that day. With all the white in his hair, he might as well have aged twenty years.

He'd known it wouldn't be easy on the outside, when he'd left the Ivory Tower just two months ago. Gretel had never experienced a winter away from the safehaven within the Mage Tower. In the Tower, they were shielded from all dangers, including inclement weather.

And hunger, he thought, biting his lip as his stomach rumbled. He'd gotten a little too used to being fed regularly by Abril. Being held in her lap, or held down, or pinned with her in his lap while she popped delectable treats past his moaning parted lips, cooing praise and encouragement and silencing him with sweet kisses whenever he tried to protest--or, even better, by popping a nipple past his lips and encouraging him to suckle like a good boy, with Maye nearby teasing at how easily, how eagerly he obeyed...

He caught a whimper of longing threatening to escape and tore away from the memories. No, he needed to be out of there. He hadn't left the Tower just to get caught up in the affections of a few local witches. Again. For the third time.

Granted, he'd... learned a lot from that visit. He swallowed, patting his notebook, safely tucked in a pocket in his shorts under the robe. A lot about witches, witch sororities and their place in society--the way they supported (or sometimes harassed) the communities they set up shop near, the rules they tended to follow. And a lot about... well. Other things.

But things were different now. He straightened his stance, striding brashly through the snow. He wasn't some green wanderer anymore who'd never seen a pretty girl out in the wild. He'd faced the goblin maids, he'd faced the lamia, and he'd faced the sorority, and... well, he'd lost, but still!

He just had to find a way out of this snowstorm.

Gretel reached up and touched the silvery tattoo-like mark on his neck, wincing at its lingering sensitivity as he rallied a renewal for the abjuration magic currently keeping him from freezing to death horribly. It wasn't enough to keep him warm, but it did keep his blood flowing. But he couldn't keep his magic running continuously forever.

The Greatest, Darkest Forest wasn't such a bad place to be in a snowstorm, but it wasn't too wonderful, either. Even though he was protected from the worst of the wind, the forest's oppressive darkness made it hard to find the path when its was so covered and snow. Part of him already worried he'd lost it.

Nevertheless, he stumbled on, forcing his way through the snow--already up to his ankles, even in the boots Claire had gifted him. There had to be a village up ahead. As long as he stayed on the road.

And yet the cold seeped in through his thin robes, danced pins and needles across his aching feet, made his fingers numb and clumsy. His teeth chattered, and he closed his eyes and felt the chill of his own eyelids.

There had to be... had to be...

Gretel blinked, staring up ahead.

Off in the distance, seemingly just off the path, a pair of glimmering blue lights shone through the flurrying snow.

Gretel blinked again, unsure if he was seeing things. But he wasn't that cold, was he?

He pinched his wrist just to be sure.

"Ow."

The spell was still keeping him from getting too numb. It couldn't be delirium.

Gretel swallowed. He kept walking along the path, drawing nearer to the source of the glow. Was it... a house? With tinted windows, maybe? Maybe a Ranger outpost, though there was no record of one on the map Maye had given him. A Ranger outpost with hot cocoa and a warm fire. Oh, hot cocoa sounded wonderful right now. Rich and sweet with a touch of bitterness, just like Abril made it.

As he drew level with the lights on the path, he stopped, hesitating.

The shimmering lights looked normal enough, aside from being blue. They didn't bob or flicker or pulse, or pierce with unnatural brightness through the flurrying snow. They looked like lanterns.

Gretel bit his lip, then made a decision as he renewed the spell again. He'd take the chance. Anything to get out of this snow. If it wasn't a friendly face, he'd turn and hurry straight back.

It wasn't like the path offered any special protection here--if he was even still on the path. If fey wanted him, they could come and try to catch him wherever he went. Better to try to get indoors sooner.

Besides, what were the odds of running into temptresses on the open road four times in a row?

He stepped off the path and began trudging down the shallow hill, following the azure glow.

He kept his eyes on the lights the whole way. They were a pretty icy blue, like light shining from beneath a frozen lake. The longer he looked, the more sure he was that they did pulse--but only very slightly, a subtle, peaceful glimmer. It didn't worry him too much. They didn't seem dangerous.

They could be eyes, he thought dimly, stumbling a little. Eyes of some gigantic beast in the blizzard. He couldn't know.

The snow was up to his knees now as he went further downhill. Maybe he was entering a snowbank. He wondered if he should turn back.

He kept walking, pushing his way through the crunching snow. His robes did absolutely nothing to protect him from the cold, and his legs felt numb and useless, like he was walking on thick, clunky stilts. He rubbed his cheek, and winced at how ice-cold it was.

He only barely remembered in time to renew the spell this time. His head swam. He needed to find shelter. A cottage, a cave, a hollow log, anything.

And just as he was thinking that, he began to hear something that made him stop in his deep tracks and listen.

Music. Sweet, angelic music.

A smile spread across his face.

There were women singing just up ahead, joined by the delicate songs of bells and stringed instruments. It was a song of comfort and safety, of shelter and welcome. It was a song of warmth. He sped up his pace, and finally came to the source of the two blue lights.

They did belong to lanterns, as it turned out, each hanging from a tall crooked red-and-white striped post. They stood alone in the forest.

He stumbled forward in a daze, eyes fixed on the lanterns. It certainly seemed like it was the flames that were blue, not the glass He searched his numbed memories for the spell to identify enchantments.

But the music was coming from up ahead, and now he could see new light--the warm orange glow of a fire.

He could barely keep one foot in front of the other. The snow was up to his hips, now, and as he renewed his spell, his head spun from the combination of physical exertion and magical exhaustion. His arms were wrapped tight around his chest, and his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

He could smell the smoke now, and woven into it were other sweet scents that made his mouth water. Chocolate. Peppermint. Caramel. Cinnamon. Maple syrup.

He was so fixated on moving as quickly as he could towards the warmth, he only noticed too late that the snow was about to drop away. He shoved his way out of the snowbank--

--and spilled right into a grassy meadow with not a trace of snow within, tumbling onto his side.

For a moment, Gretel was too stunned to react. He lay there, feeling a comforting warmth just ahead of him.

He stared straight ahead at a beautiful purple crocus in full bloom.

"Oh, heavens!" exclaimed a dainty, high-pitched voice.

His eyes slowly traveled up.

A bonfire blazed in the center of the clearing. Its warmth met Gretel's face like a hundred sunbeams, like a thousand soft sorority kisses, and he practically moaned with relief.

His eyes kept traveling, though, and he found himself meeting the gazes of four gorgeous fey women.

They were each quite short--about his height, with hair ranging from chestnut-brown to candy-red and rosy cedar-brown complexions. Their dark lips were plump and pouty, and they each had identical rosy-red noses and cheeks as if they were quite chilly. Pale speckles dappled their cheeks, arms, and chests.

Gretel stared. Each was dressed in a simple a-line dress, with a leafy green wreath nestled amid her shimmering brown locks. The outfits matched--fluffy white-trimmed pine-green dresses, backless and baring the shoulders, with long ruby-red stockings. The dresses were... very, very low-cut, and though they weren't large by fey standards, they filled those dresses out very, very nicely, and eagerly bared their long, shapely legs.

Above their heads rose delicate antlers. They were fauns.

And they were all staring at him. Their eyes were a brilliant green, shining through the falling snow. They looked startled, blinking thick, lustrous lashes.

They beamed.

"Oh, my loves!" one of them exclaimed. Her brown curls bounced as she bobbed from heel to toe. "We have a guest!"

"A visitor!" breathed another, eyes wide and sparkling. "Oh, Cupid, see him shiver! He hath traveled long in this cruel weather!"

"Um, h-hi," Gretel stammered, forcing his eyes off their chests to meet their inquisitive gazes. He struggled to his feet. "Sorry to... barge in like this. I was just..."

He was starting to register the rest of the clearing. Aside from the warm, cozy bonfire he was so grateful for, the strange fauns stood before a towering fir tree. It was beautifully decorated for the Solstice, with glimmering baubles--pink and blue, silver and gold, crimson and green--hanging from every branch. Some were glass, others glinted like metal. Red bows and ribbons dangled, too, blowing in the breeze, and at the top of the tree was a shimmering glass Solstice maiden. A light dusting of snow covered the tree. Gretel had never seen a Solstice tree so vast, nor one decorated so densely.

He realized he'd trailed off only when the fauns started giggling. He flushed. "Sorry. I'm, um, is it alright if I rest by your fire? My name is Gretel." He added the last part as an afterthought, already inching closer to the blaze.

He didn't know much about fauns. They were deergirls, beastfey. Beastfey were usually more approachable than other fey, weren't they?

The next thing he knew, he was surrounded.

"Oh, forsooth!" agreed the first one who'd spoken, Cupid, beaming at him. Her green eyes sparkled dangerously. "We should be overjoyed to have such a handsome guest. Is it not so, Vixyn?"

"Oh, yes," purred the second one who'd spoken. She was the tallest of them, just an inch above him, with striking little blue teardrop earrings that reminded him of icicles. "We are obligated to the cause of hospitality for weary travelers."

"Oh. Okay." He bit his lip. "Great."

"And we cannot possibly send thee out into the wind and snow, can we?" A third giggled and bounced up close to him. Her hair was cut in a neat little bouffant, decorated with glittering snowflake-style hairpins. "Not until thou art, hum, well warmed up!"

"Right." He nodded with a shy smile, taking a step back. They smelled very nice--a sort of minty chocolatey scent, plus a fragrance he couldn't place. He'd learned to mistrust strange sweet-smelling women, but these four seemed friendly enough. Maybe just a little... flirty. But they were sharing their fire with him, so they couldn't be so bad, could they? "Right, as I said, I... just need a minute."

"Indeed," agreed Cupid, batting her lashes up at him. "We must make thee comfortable! Prancer, you must at once fetch for our guest something to warm his weary, handsome frame!"

He bit his lip, unable to quite meet that fluttering gaze. "Th-That's not necessary," he stammered, but the giggly one was already bouncing off to the far end of the fire, and he was now left surrounded by just three beaming deergirls.

"Oh, but it is!" Cupid shook her head firmly. "And thou art hardly dressed for the winter! Donna, have we not anything more suitable?"

"Oh, yes, I should think so." Donna was slightly curvy than the others, and her voice was warm and gentle, nurturing, almost, as she smiled up at him. "Thou needst only wait a flick and a wink, my sweet."

She cupped his cheek, and he felt his whole face heating up before she turned and made her way off as well.

Now there were two of them. And Vixyn and Cupid didn't seem to be going anywhere.

He gulped.

"Thou mayst have a seat," Vixyn said sweetly, taking him by the arm. "The moss is soft and warm by the tree."

"Th-That sounds nice," he managed, "but I just--"

"Soft and warm," Cupid agreed, hooking her arm in his other so they had him caught between them. They led him over. "Thou must be exhausted!"

"But I--"

"So tired," Vixyn purred in his left ear.

"I, um..."

"So sleepy," Cupid cooed in his right.

"I have to... I really..." But when they bade him sit, he sat, facing the tree towering above him. He blushed as they sat down on either side and nestled in close.

He needed very, very badly to get more assertive, and fast. But Cupid fluttered her lashes at him so innocently, those plump, kissable lips curving up in a smile so full of innocence and cheer. And Vixyn felt so nice pressing her curves against his other side...

"... have to... get moving..." he mumbled.

"Why so hurried?" Vixyn purred. Gretel turned and started into her shimmering green eyes, sparkling in the reflected light of the tree. She leaned in closer. "Is it not warm here?"

"Is it not soft here?" Cupid cooed, squeezing him tightly between them.

Their scent washed over him, and he could almost taste the mint chocolate melting on his tongue as he breathed it in slowly. Sandwiched between the two voluptuous fauns, it felt awfully rude to complain. They were just helping him, weren't they?

He turned, and his eyes drifted from Cupid's glowing eyes to her full lips, curved upwards and pouted out ever-so-slightly in a sly, inviting smile.

"Art thou not cold?" she whispered, reaching up and stroking a fingertip over his lips.

Her touch was so delicate.

His lips were so sensitive.

And as he felt Vixyn's warm breath on his neck, grazing just over the sensitive sigil, he shivered.

"Oh, he is!" she exclaimed softly, her lips ever-so-slightly grazing his earlobe. "The poor thing! See how he shivereth in the chill night air!"

He whimpered, squirming between them. Cupid's finger felt so nice and encouraging, and his lips longed to simply part. The thought echoed in his head in the seductive tones of the witches who had broken him so many times before...

Pretty girls know what's best for you~

"I-I should... should be..."

"Ah, here it is!" Cupid brightened. Gretel craned his neck to see Prancer return in bouncing strides, clutching a steaming red mug of hot cocoa, topped with a graceful peak of whipped cream. Cupid took it from the bubbly faun and held it up to his lips. "Drink, my sweet! Drink!"

"B-But--" As his lips parted, Cupid's smile widened, and she tilted the scarlet mug back.

And sweet puffs of whipped cream floated like clouds in the sky upon his tongue, borne on seas of sweet, rich, cinnamon-laced hot cocoa.

The heat of the cocoa--not too hot, not lukewarm, just right. The light coolness of the cream, so thick and heavy...

His lips parted wider, and he moaned softly stopped struggling. It was easier to just let Cupid serve him. They were just trying to help, weren't they? Just harmless beastfey. Very pretty beastfey. Just giving him a... warm welcome...

"Good boy," Vixyn purred in his ear. His lashes fluttered dizzily. "Doth thou see? Our only desire is to care for thee~" She kissed just below his ear, and he gasped and drank deeper. "Good. So good for us."

"Thou needst only do as we say," Cupid cooed, tilting the mug further back. "Everything we say. And is that not so wonderfully simple?"

"Oh, forsooth!" Prancer said, giggling as she reached down and started to slide her hands up the hem of his robes, caressing his cold legs with warmth. "Boys love simple, do they not?"

"B-But..." Gretel squirmed at the touches, but he couldn't stop drinking. His eyelids were growing heavy. Simple.

"Simple." Vixyn's voice was a sibilant sigh laced with delicate promise. "Simple and silent. That is how a mortal boy should be, is it not?" She kissed wetly around his ear. "All he need do is lie still and be tended to. Is that not so easy?"

His head was sinking back against her chest as hhe drank deeper and deeper, guided to tilt further and further back by Cupid's gentle touch. Vixyn's chest was so soft, and as the three smiling fauns squeezed closer, Cupid's breasts were right before his drowsy, half-closed eyes.

Simple.

Silent.

Prancer's hands were pulling his robes up higher, now, slipping playfully between his legs. She giggled. "Ooh, so it seemeth! Soeasy indeed. Or rather..." She leaned in close and planted a wet kiss on his neck, right next to the sigil. "... it seemeth to be quite hard~"

Her soft, warm hand brushed his cock, and he let out a soft, helpless cry as sweet bubbling pleasure and embarrassment burst in his mind. "H-Hey!" he protested, reaching to cover himself.

The fauns were all laughing now, their sweet, musical laughter echoing around him. His head swam. Everything suddenly seemed so... glowy... their radiant smiles, so beautiful, so teasing, making his cheeks heat up as they drew nearer...

"What is wrong?" Cupid asked innocently, lowering the now-empty mug to the grass. She batted her eyelashes, and her eyes were so beautiful, but he couldn't look away from her jiggling tits. "Why doth thou struggle?"

"Thou hast struggled long," Vixyn purred in his ear, as her hand wrapped around him and hugged him close. He was nestled right in her cleavage, and as embarrassing as that was, strangely, all he could focus on was how soft and warm she felt beneath him. His head felt sluggish and heavy. "But thou art in no danger here. Seem we dangerous to thee?"

"Guh..." Gretel stared as Cupid reached up and cupped one breast. Squeezed it. Slowly let it fall. Bounce. Bounce.

"Well?" Vixyn laughed. "Surely thou art more than a match for three harmless little fauns."

"B-Buh..." Gretel whimpered as Prancer's fingers ran between his legs, delicately teasing, so close to his hard, twitching cock...

"He hathn't any words!" Cupid cooed. She bounced closer, leaning down until her breasts were out of view... and those dark, fulsome lips filled his vision. "Be these questions too difficult for our silly boy? Ought we to ask thee easier ones?"

"I... b-buhhh..."

Those beautiful lips formed a seductive pout. "Would the sweet boy like a kiss?"