Happy Holly Daze

For a second, Gretel's brain seemed to short-circuit. He stared in hopeless desire, admiring dizzily how her lips curved so elegantly at the bow...

... but... but wasn't this a bad idea? They were... they were seducing him, they were...

"Oh, thou must kiss her," Vixyn purred. Her lips traced up and along the nape of his neck. "Thou canst not resist."

Those lips, so soft... probably so sweet...

"She hath mistletoe in her hair, silly boy!" Prancer giggled. "Thou needst the kiss."

His every breath filled him with more of that sweetness. Weakened him. Drained him.

"'Tis but one," Cupid said sweetly, lashes fluttering. "What can be the harm?"

Gretel nodded dizzily. It made sense. She did have mistletoe in her hair. And he only had to do it once, and... just one kiss couldn't hurt...

He wasn't sure which of them initiated the kiss. He only knew that his lips met hers, and then the sweetness of mint flooded him as he sank into her touch. He was sandwiched between the three fauns, and even as he was vaguely conscious of Vixyn's teasing whispers, of Prancer cutting fabric of some sort, all he could think about was Cupid.

Cupid was everything.

Her taste. Her scent. Her soft moans, the smacking of her luscious lips. He moaned helplessly as her tongue slid into his mouth, as she sucked daintily on his lower lip.

When she pulled back, he was in a daze. He swayed, sighing in soft, dreamy pleasure.

The next thing he knew, he'd been turned to face Prancer. She beamed. "My turn!" she bubbled.

He blinked stupidly. He couldn't argue, could he? The mistletoe... she wore some too. Just one kiss. It made sense.

One more couldn't hurt.

Prancer cooed happily as his lips met hers, and her kiss was hungry, devouring. Her tongue thrust into his mouth as the faun moaned, clutching him in her passion, fingers entwining in his hair and pulling him closer. Her lips were so plump and soft and sweet, and her green eyes shone inches from his own, flashing, swirling...

She finally pulled back with a grin. Gretel nearly swooned after her.

His head was swimming. He blinked slowly, struggling to wake, but...

... but he was already being turned to face Vixyn. The faun grinned wickedly. "Just one more?" she suggested, pouting.

"I... b-buh..."

Her eyes glimmered. "Doth thou not see? The mistletoe commandeth thee, sweet boy. 'Tis not thy choice at all! So why fight it~?"

Gretel's mind buzzed. He felt that compulsion, then, the mistletoe atop her head taking hold, taking root in his brain. He found himself nodding drowsily, leaning in...

...parting his lips obediently...

... his eyes already half-closing in anticipation...

He saw Vixyn's grin widen.

And she leaned in and planted her lips right upon his sigil.

Gretel mewled and thrashed in overwhelmed pleasure, but she didn't let go. If anything, her kiss deepened, and she clutched him close and captive.

The pleasure was unbearable, unspeakable. Gretel squirmed and gasped and babbled, his every half-protest dying with a lick, a smack of her lips, a moan vibrating against his skin. His protests dissolved into wordless pleas, but the other two fauns just giggled and beamed innocently, lashes fluttering, as Vixyn's kiss went on, and on, and on...

It felt like it had been hours by the time she pulled away with a loud, indulgent, "Mmmwaah~!"

Gretel lay there in her arms, eyelids fluttering, still whimpering softly as the sensations lingered. He heard the fauns laughing, but couldn't muster words.

Vixyn smirked down at him, eyes glowing. "Was that not wonderful?" she cooed, reaching down to stroke under his chin--and to keep his head from lolling.

Gretel drooled.

The fauns all giggled. They pressed in on him again, returning him to his place resting against Vixyn's breasts as the other two fawned over him. Dimly, Gretel realized his robes were gone now. Prancer had snipped them away during his daze.

He was almost naked.

"Is this not perfect?" Prancer asked, bouncing with excitement. "'Tis just what every silly mortal boy needeth!~"

"To be taken care of," Cupid agreed. "To giveth up all his difficult decisions to pretty fey girls~" She smirked down at him, bouncing her tits right in his face. "Is that not right, sweet, adorable boy?"

Gretel struggled to speak, but the words seemed to melt on his tongue the second he thought of them. He was filled with sweet, gooey heat. It suffused his whole body, slowly dissolving his mind like sugar over a hot stove. This... this was bad. Right?

He tried to rise, but every muscle in his body had relaxed completely. His body was totally limp. All he could do was squirm pathetically.

He couldn't get up.

He was helpless.

His eyes widened with the realization.

And he heard the jingling of bells approaching.

"I'm baaack, my darlings," he heard Donna sing. Her soft, voluptuous heat settled down right next to him, and now he was totally surrounded. "Is our little guest ready to be decorated properly~?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Gretel spotted colorful, shimmering red ribbons, jingling silver bells...

... and an awful lot of mistletoe.

He whimpered.

"Now, now," Donna murmured, as he squirmed against her touch, "thou mustn't struggle, my sweet!"

"Yeah," agreed Prancer, giggling, "how are we to dress thee if thou wrigglest like a little kitten at his bathtime? Here!" She forced his head to turn to face Donna. "I think this might help~"

Gretel met Donna's eyes only briefly before his gaze dropped down to her chest.

Donna had pulled down her dress, and her massive breasts now poked out above, held up by the neckline. They were flawless, shimmering with many colors from the reflections cast by the Solstice tree above.

His eyes widened, and an involuntary whine escaped him.

"Oh, what a fine idea, Prancer," Vixyn purred, stroking his hair. "Look how he craves it! A taste of the source~"

Gretel's head swam. He felt too weak, too feeble, too sleepy and confused. What... what had been in that hot cocoa?

Where had they gotten the cream?

The voluptuous faun slowly groped and squeezed her breasts, and Gretel's whole world went thick and oozing as he saw tiny beads of milk leaking from her perky nipples.

"Go on, then, my sweet little one," Donna cooed, leaning in close, her scent--minty hot cocoa, so creamy and milky and sweet--flooding Gretel's poor addicted lungs. "Drink."

Oh.

Oh, it would taste so... so...

"N-Nn--" Gretel forced his lips shut and shook his head. His head sloshed and swirled with the rapid motion. His eyes fluttered.

He couldn't give in, though. He couldn't. No matter how his mouth watered, how his head swam at the thought of just leaning in, parting his lips, burying his face in Donna's soft tits and suckling like a good boy...

Hearing Donna's delighted laughter, Gretel realized his lips were parting involuntarily, and barely stopped himself in time. He whimpered, his impotent squirming only amusing the four pretty girls around him more.

It would be so easy. So easy to submit to their softness, their warmth, and it would feel so good to drown his cares in their pleasure. The thought of surrendering to their charms, of submitting to their superior control, of dosing himself deeper on that milk made his whole mind melt a little.

It would be so embarrassing. His heart quickened at the thought.

But he held on. Through sheer desperation, through the haze, his mouth remained shut.

And though Vixyn and Cupid seemed content to wait him out as they readied those pretty ribbons, Prancer seemed to be getting bored.

"Go on, silly boy," she cooed, bouncing with excitement. "Do as thy, hum, nursemaid sayeth! Teehee!"

He shook his head weakly, much slower this time. He couldn't. He mustn't.

Prancer's eyes sparkled. She looked up at Donna. "Oh, nurse, may I? May I... help him?"

He blinked up at them. What? Help him? Even in his dazed state of half-resistance, a creeping dread filled his heart.

Especially at that sly smile Donna gave. "Of course thou mayst, mine adorable scattered little slattern. The sweet boy needeth help remembering to breathe~"

Prancer's face lit up.

Gretel squeaked nervously, eyes darting between the pair. "Mm?"

"Oh, worry not, sweet boy," Vixyn hissed in his ear. "She is only going to make you more comfortable~"

"Would that be so bad?" Cupid cooed.

Gretel blinked dumbly. Make him comfortable? That... didn't sound too bad, did it?

Prancer's head dropped between his legs.

His eyes widened, and he started to squirm and limply thrash, but the fauns held him too tight. Pathetic whimpers spilled from his closed lips, wordless pleas that only fell on deaf ears.

And then a pair of plump cocksucking archaic-dialect-speaking bimbo lips touched his cock.

A shiver of delight raced through him.

Prancer's antlers bobbed as she gave happy little sighs, her tongue lapping mercilessly between his legs--and over his sensitive cock through his undergarments.

Her finesse was indescribable, and Gretel's cock was already so sensitive. He couldn't bear it.

The other fauns cooed over him as he struggled. "So precious! Cupid gushed, stroking his hair. "Thou must love this~"

Prancer's tongue was nimble and playful, teasing over his tip, stoking his arousal. It was exquisite torture. Gretel bit his tongue, whimpered, whined, pleading with his eyes at the other three. Prancer giggled.

He finally could take it no longer.

"Please!" Gretel mewled, hips bucking in hopeless need. "Please, just--MMMFF!"

Donna had immediately popped her nipple past his lips.

Gretel's whole world went soft and blurry.

He tried not to lick. He did try.

He tried very, very hard. He, tried not to let himself indulge in even a drop of that sweet, rich, creamy ambrosia. For almost a whole second.

But there was already a drop of milk on his tongue.

And without thinking, he realized he had already begin to docilely suckle.

"Gooood," cooed the sweet, echoing voices around him. He moaned and leaned in further, helpless to stop himself. He knew they were moving around him now--blurs of color out of the corners of his vision--but all he could focus on was squishing his face up against Donna's breast and sucking obediently.

Suckling felt easy. Good. Natural. He needed to nurse. Needed more.

Needed to drug himself on her milk like a good boy.

He felt a tightening around his wrists, his arms and legs. He was being tied up, he realized numbly. Trussed up tighter than a roast chicken in bright red ribbons.

He kept sucking.

They were adorning his hair with tinsel and baubles, sprigs of mistletoe and sweet-smelling winter flowers. He was almost as decorated as the Solstice tree.

He kept sucking.

Donna stroked his hair lovingly, keeping him nice and deep under her spell. He moaned happily and suckled, docile as a kitten. Pretty girls knew best for him.

A length of time he couldn't possibly measure passed him by, and he sank in a dumb, happy haze.

Their praise was a drug almost as sweet as Donna's cream, their laughter more intoxicating than the cocoa. It felt so good to lie there in their arms and obey.

It came so naturally to him to be good, they whispered, and he couldn't have disagreed even if he'd been able to speak.

The spell wasn't complete, though. His mind was still intact, just blurred and weakened. Donna's milk wasn't as strong as the cocoa; whatever they'd put in that was starting to wear off. Awareness was trickling back in, cool waters to wash their sticky control away.

As they started tying the final bows in his hair, he could feel his mind starting to return.

And Gretel blushed as red as a poinsettia as he realized the state he was in.

He was a drooling mess, pressed tight up against Donna's breast, still suckling a little despite himself. His robes and undergarments were gone. Instead, he had been delicately bound with brilliant shimmering red ribbon, his wrists and feet wrapped behind him to expose as much of his body as possible. Crimson and white flowers decorated his hair along with many sprigs of flowering mistletoe and red ribbon bows.

"Bh..." His head still felt soft and soggy with the drugged hot cocoa and sweet, addictive milk. He struggled to pull himself away, fought to form his lips into the right shapes for words.

"Oh, what was that, little one?" Donna batted her eyelashes down at him. With one hand, she slowly stroked his fluffy pink hair. "Doth thou have something to say? Oh, or doth thou simply want more?"

"Mnnn!" He whimpered and squirmed, shaking his head desperately as she tried to redirect her nipple towards his lips, slowly guiding his head to meet it.

"Oh, no, my love," Cupid said with a giggle, patting Donna's arm, "I believe he is only overjoyed at his new outfit!"

Gretel whined and squirmed harder. "N-No!" he managed, pushing himself away from Donna. "No, y-you can't just--"

"Oh, he loveth this," purred Vixyn, reaching down between his legs. "See, my loves!"

Gretel couldn't bear to look; the humiliation was too much. His cock was fully exposed by the ribbons, erect and twitching. "I--" His voice was a pathetic squeak. "N-No, I--"

"Silly boys needeth be taken care of, as all ye can see!" Vixyn gave his cock a delicate stroke, drawing a hopeless happy moan from him. "Needeth be drowned in pleasure and given to sweet, pretty fey girls--who are so much more clever than any mortal boy--to be looked after!"

Gretel's heart started to pound.

"Is that not what thou want?" Cupid cooed in his ear. "To be pampered and praised and owned as a silly boy ought to be?"

"N-No, no, I--" Vixyn's hand wrapped around Gretel's dripping, twitching cock, and his words broken into another useless moan as his hips bucked.

"Yes, that's it," Vixyn hissed. "Nice and dumb, as a mortal boy belongeth this time of year. Ready to be made a sweet gift for a sweeter mistress."

"O-Ohh..." Gretel's hips bucked again. He couldn't stop himself.

"Happy and willing."

The hand slowly stroked up.

"Eager and waiting."

The hand slowly stroked down.

"Letting this precious little cock do all of thy thinking from now forth, because letting the brains be pumped from that pretty head of yours feeleth so easy, doth it not?"

"I--but I--" Gretel mewled as Prancer began planting teasing kisses upon the sigil on his neck, bubbles of pleasure popping in his head. "Buh... but..."

"Already so stupid." Vixyn's hand was so soft, so slender and delicate in its pumping of his cock. "So ready to surrender."

Gretel's mind swam in pools of sweet, addictive milk as he watched Donna slowly squeeze a breast, smelled her scent in the air, felt her heat. "Oh... n-no... no, I won't--"

"Oh, sweet boy," Cupid sang, and as he met her eyes, his breath caught. "Doth thou not see?" Her eyes were sparkling like green moons. "Thou hast mistletoe in thy hair~"

She seized him in a deep, passionate kiss on the lips, and Gretel simply melted.

He swooned back into their arms, drowning in the sounds of their girlish giggles, of Cupid's plump lips smacking against his own, the smell of milk in the air, the taste of mint on her tongue. When the faun finally pulled away, he was drooling.

"Now, what was it thou wast saying?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes. "Thou wished for us to let you go?"

Gretel stared at Donna's tits.

He moaned and leaned in to needily suckle once more.

Their laughter filled his head in place of thoughts as they slowly eased him onto his back in the soft bed of wildflowers, gazing up into a shimmering galaxy of colorful stars and nebulae, flashing, sparking, glinting, dazzling. Vixyn's pumping sped up, faster, faster--

"Good boy!"

"Such a good boy~"

"What a good, stupid boy~"

"Such a fine present he shall make!"

"Oh, what a joy to be able to give himself to another's soft embrace!"

Vixyn's voice descended close, right in his ear, sibilant and triumphant. "Now, cum, sweet boy! Cum yourself aaaall well and truly brainless."

His eyes widened.

"CUM."

And Gretel came. Gretel came, mewling and squealing, bucking helpless up into the air, gazing up into those galaxies of pure obedient pleasure. He barely noticed when Donna pulled away, so lost was he in the orgasm. His true addiction wasn't to her milk, nor to the cocoa. It was to obedience. Obeying pretty girls.

He didn't even think when Vixyn delicately exchanged her hand for his. He just kept pumping, smiling stupidly as each faun gave him a sweet goodbye-for-now kiss.

He stayed there, happily edging away beneath the Solstice tree, and waited for his next lucky Mistress to find him.

And as he pumped himself towards the next sweet orgasm, always just on the edge of the horizon, he could swear he heard that lovely music once more.

THE END?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thanks for reading, and do remember to like, comment and subscribe! I mean, rate, comment and Follow! Let me know if you'd like this particular arc to continue! And Happy Holidays! <3