Honeydew Heist Ch. 02

The forest was as quiet as a nighttime marsh that had just witnessed a murder.

Nevyn finished putting on his blue jay mask, trying to stay calm. The voice had come from just behind him, and not far off at all. A complaint about the mask, which almost made him smile. The dryad had gotten the drop on him, and she'd used it to object to him covering his face.

But the cunning man was on his hands and knees in an unfamiliar forest, halfway through selecting the proper herbs from his case. This was a compromising position no cunning folk would savor.

Slowly, he turned, keeping one hand on the case. He'd knew the stories about honeydew dryads, of course. Who hadn't? Nevyn had heard—arguably, kind of devoured—the stories of honeydew melons, those curvy, luscious creatures of myth. Being a rather rare and shy fey, the stories were all the more lascivious—why were these particular fey so mysterious, so reclusive?

Well, they were a little embarrassed about their cartoonishly enormous tits. That was the joke, anyways.

He stared up, jaw hanging open, at the pale woman beaming down at him. Her face had a faint green-ish tint, framed by pale moon-silver hair, and she was dressed in gossamer silks that wafted and blew with the breeze, the fabric so translucent that she looked to be cloaked in mist. Her torso was covered by the most minimal sort of lingerie, and her hips, wide and swaying with every step as she advanced towards him, were covered by a delicate blue skirt that looked no more sturdy than tissue paper.

Her eyes glimmered like bright emeralds dropped in water, rippling with green as her cheeks formed glowing dimples from a wide, almost innocent smile. Her lips were a little darker than the rest of her skin, fulsome and plush. And he was again struck by her surprising height, though in fairness, most people looked tall to Nevyn.

From her arms climbed twisting, gnarled vines, like decorative boas or friendly serpents. Some of these bore vivid golden blossoms—coin-sized flowers that were no doubt the beginnings of the fruit that gave the village its most famous export. The vines crawled and spiraled over her shoulders and around her arms; one came to a blossoming tip in the palm of her right hand.

She blinked down at him demurely, her lashes forming thick curtains over those emerald-pool eyes.

"I..." his voice came out hoarse. He was using every ounce of his willpower not to stare right up at her massive, jiggling bosom, barely concealed beneath the bra and the silks and seemingly held up by fey magics alone. "I... um... it's very, ah, cold around here this early in the season." He affected a slight smile behind the mask, its cocky wit no doubt wasted, and gestured to the beak. "It keeps a fellow warm"

"Oh, really?" She giggled, eyes heavy-lidded. "Is that so?"

"Hm." He gave a slight nod, then winked. "Not that I expect any man could feel a chill when gazing upon you, madam."

Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and she visibly forced herself back on-course. "And n-nothing to do with trying to manage yourself, boy?" She raised a perfectly-formed eyebrow, the expression slightly undermined by the stutter in her voice. "Nothing, ah, that might resemble a worry for the smell of my f-flowers?"

"The name is Nevyn, my lady." He sketched a slight bow, reaching up for show and caressing one of the blossoms as the vine trailed down from the branches toward him, almost curious. The blossom quivered and withdrew back slightly, its petals closing as if spooked. "Honeydew dryad flowers have their, ah, uses, but I've never heard of them giving anyone too much trouble." He cast her a sly look out of the corner of his eye. "Why? Would you be wishing they could? I'm certain you wouldn't need the help."

"Oh, my." She laughed lightly, her laughter falling through the air like late-autumn snowflakes. "My name's Verde, and, well, I suppose not. I don't know what the likes of me would even begin to do with spellbinding pollen, or any of that nonsense."

"Really!" He grinned. Inwardly, he was groaning. It was generally seen as best practice to play the same game as the fey—if they were going to be nice, you had to be, too.

But he didn't want 'nice'. 'Nice' didn't get him his flowers. 'Nice' also didn't get him... He bit off the thought and kept his voice light and friendly. "I must admit, fair lady, I'm surprised. I had heard rumors that lovely fey such as yourself had all sorts and manner of mischief you could make!"

"Oh, like these?" She glanced down shyly at her breasts, reaching up to brush a thick silver lock from her eyes. "I... well, I suppose every girl has some tricks. I-I mean, a pretty girl would. I don't know if I do."

That was bait. But right now he wanted the trap shut. He fluttered his own eyelashes innocently, reaching up as if considering removing the mask. "Oh, really? Goodness, but you're ah..." He gave a chuckle not entirely inauthentic in its nervous quaver. "You're... hardly n-not pretty, miss, if I may say."

Her eyes glimmered. She was still avoiding his gaze, and his heart raced as he realized what she was looking at. He straightened as he took something from his case; clipping it shut, he let it swing in front of his hips, blocking any illicit examinations. "Really?"

"You're... I mean, I couldn't say without being untoward, miss." He ducked his head in a show of bashfulness.

"Be untoward!" she said quickly. Too quickly. Her eyes were glittering with excitement, and maybe a little need.

There was no more dangerous way to appease a fey than with flattery. Especially nervous flattery. He was basically doing the equivalent of slathering himself in Thriae mead and leaving himself outside a honey bearmaid's cave. "I... I must confess, Miss, I can't help but notice the fullness of your bosom."

There was a pause.

"Pfft!" She clutched her stomach, almost doubling over. "The way you say that—oh, goodness, you're adorable!"

"I-I am?" He grinned behind the mask, but kept his voice soft and meek. Dangling the bait. He was doing the equivalent of mooning the honey bearmaid and wiggling his cute ass at her right now.

"Oh, goodness." She shot him a sly grin. "I wish I could see the look on your face right now."

"Why?"

"Weeell," she said casually, flicking her hair back over her shoulder, "I've noticed boys tend to make the cutest sounds when I..." She reached up and smooshed her breasts together, her eyes shimmering. "And I bet you'd look cute when you blush."

She let the breasts fall, and they jiggled so enticingly. Oh, gods, she was massive, and they bounced so beautifully, so familiarly. Nevyn couldn't help but stare and lick his lips. His heart raced.

But he affected a casual laugh. "My, my. Well, I'd best keep my mask on, huh? I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself!" He swung his case around as he turned away, looking above at the treetops to distract himself from her assets. Honeydew melon vines hung from every branch, it seemed, along with those curious tomato plants. Hm... those aren't tomato. Deadly nightshade, maybe? "You're, ah, not the most subtle fey, are you?"

"I—" She sounded distinctly put out. In fact, he could hear the pout in her voice. "Ithought that would have more of an effect."

Oh. Okay, he had to admit, that was kind of adorable. She was actually offended that he wasn't hypnotized by that. Honeydew dryads really didn't see a lot of company, did they?

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" He glanced back over his shoulder, allowing the twinkle of amusement to flicker in his eyes. "You're breathtaking, my lady. And so are your ladies-in-waiting." He suppressed a giggle as her face went beetred. "But I'm afraid I'm just a little too willful to be reeled in by something so, ah... overt." He winked. "I was expecting more of a game of it!"

He made a show of folding his arms and glancing around, as if this was an utterly casual conversation with an acquaintance—not dull, but not something he was taking very seriously.

He could tell this was getting to her. She was so close to giving in. The third-worst thing you could do with a fey, apart from flattering them, apart from initially acting shy or nervous, wasblatantly playing hard-to-get.

"... oh." Her voice had gone soft, now. He heard her approaching him, and felt her take his arm. Her grip was soft. Warm. "I... I don't play much, you see."

Her knuckles grazed his cheek. He turned to face her, and was suddenly beset by a pair of shimmering emerald-filled oceans. She stared down at him, eyes bright and rippling with magic. "But is that what you want, Nevyn?" she said softly, mischievously, tickling under his chin. "To be played with?"

He hesitated, watching as her eyes grew deeper, the gentle undercurrent of suggestion beginning to pull at his will. Then, uncertainly, he reached up towards her to caress her cheek. Her lashes fluttered at the touch...

"Not exactly," he whispered, "but I do like to play."

And he blew, and the flower he was holding sent pollen flying right into her face.

She stared at him, uncomprehending. She had already been starting her own hypnosis, and she didn't seem totally clear on what had just happened. He smiled slightly, breathing in his own clean air. "Wh..." She blinked. "What did you just..."

Her chest rose and fell. His smile widened. "What's that?" he said softly.

"O-Ooh..." She swayed slightly, and leaned on his arm for support. He happily lent her his support. She stared down at him, visibly dizzy. Her eyes were positively swirling. "I, um... you just..."

"Shh." He stroked her hair. "Shh. There's a good girl."

"Ooh." She shivered from the touch. A little whine escaped her. "Th-That's... not fair play."

"Isn't it?" He pulled the mask up and smiled, and was rewarded with a faint flushing of pink in her cheeks as she saw his face. "I mean, you did lead with bouncing."

After a moment, she giggled. "Ooh. Yeah, I... did, didn't I?" She gave him a dazed, conspiratorial wink. "I guess I didn't think you'd, uh... be ready to play."

"Very naughty of you," he chided, continuing to pet her hair. It was so cute how the fey trembled at that touch.

"Mm." She squirmed. "I like you." She drew back slightly, swaying, and gave a wicked grin. "But I'm not... um..."

"Not what?" he asked sweetly. He swirled the nurselily before her.

Her eyes crossed as she stared at the flower.

A whimper escaped her.

"Aww." He shook his head, beaming. "Do we know what this is, pretty girl?"

She whimpered again and shook her head unconvincingly. With one hand, she reached up and gave her breasts a slight 'adjustment'.

"My, my." He took a step forward, and watched her take a step back. "Should I tell you? Should I tell you what this does, pretty girl?"

"N-Not fair," she whined. "C-Cunning folk are s-sposed to, like..." She squirmed even more visibly, and he openly admired her tits as she squeezed them desperately. "S-Sposed to warn us they're cunning folk."

"I'm wearing a cunning mask, silly. Do you not know what that mask means?"

"I thought it was a cute bluebird mask," she whispered.

"I'm carrying a cunning man's case."

"Well, I..." She pouted. "I'm not gonna..." She was squeezing her tits more needily as the flower took its toll, her breathing coming unevenly.

"Nurselily blossom," he said casually, setting the case down with a smirk. "When dried, its pollen induces rapid sensations of deep... sensitivity in the breasts." He made a show of looking around, as if trying to remember the other details. "And... I believe it might cause some lactation, too."

"This is a-absolutely..." She shook herself, slightly, and scowled down at him. The effect of her defiant glare was somewhat undercut by the fact that she was still fondling her breasts. "... absolutely preposterous," she declared.

He stopped short. "Oh?"

"Uh-huh!" She nodded curtly. "You can't just pop in and bait me into mind controlling you so you can mess with me. That's a dirty trick!"

He gave a dramatic shrug. "You can't cheat an honest woman."

"But you flirted with me!" Her tone was as accusatory as if she'd told him he'd robbed an orphanage. "Romantically!"

"I-I did not." He sniffed. He actually felt a little offended by the suggestion. "For your information..."

"You did!" Despite her growing visible arousal, she grinned and bounced in place. "That was sooo flirty. Some of those things you said, my goodness!"

"I'm... just here for flowers, Verde." He beckoned. "Now, come here, and let me put you under."

"Oh, so you can brainwash me into being a horny sex toy for you?" She smirked, giving one of her nipples a little pinch—and squeaked with embarrassment as her lingerie visibly absorbed a little milk dripping from it.

"You could just run away."

Her lower lip quivered. There was a long pause.

Then she grinned wickedly. "No way! I'm onto you, silly boy." She swung her hips from side to side. "I know a switch when I see one."

Her tits swung when she swayed like that. Gods, they were... He forced his eyes back to hers. "It's cute that you think that, sweetie. Come along. Don't you want more headpats?" He raised his hand invitingly.

She bit her lip, squeezing her breasts together. "N-No, I think, actually..." She let out an involuntary whine as the pollen's effects began to intensify.

"Fondling yourself isn't making this any better for you." He couldn't suppress a little giggle. "I think you're getting a little horny from it, actually."

She started to giggle, then stopped herself, pouting. "Nn... nuh-uh!" she managed, then bit her lip at how pathetic her disagreement sounded. It seemed a little hard to muster much ferocity of opinion when one was groping one's own hypersensitized, dribbling cow udders.

"You're doing so well, though!" he said sweetly, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed at this praise. "And you're so lovely."

"Mm..." Her breath was a little cracked, straining with the effort of mustering words instead of moans. "And you don't..." She pouted. "... don't wanna... sink into my tits?"

Nevyn was very good at hiding reactions. He only shrugged, smiling casually. "They are lovely, dear, but, ah..."

"S-So... bouncy..." She was trying to get a spell going, very obviously so, but her own voice trembled with every syllable. "C-Can't... soooo lovely..."

He crumbled up the remnants of the nurselily, making a show of focusing on this, and he heard her let out a whine of realization—just before he blew another puff of pollen towards her. "Yes, dear."

"Nn." She shivered, breathing in involuntarily, and giggled. "D-Dammit..."

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he made a sympathetic pout.

"Y-You're..." She giggled. "You're hypnotizing me!

"But doesn't this feel good?" He strolled forward, the sweetest and most innocent of smiles on his face.

She nodded weakly, giggling. "Uh-huh! B-But..." She leaned in drunkenly. "Don't you wanna..." Her eyes lit up for some reason, and she went quiet.

He took this to mean she had some sort of plan. Setting down the case, he cupped her chin, eliciting a little excited whimper. "There, there," he cooed. "Not to worry. We can have lots of fun once I have the flowers."

"Nn." She squirmed. And groped. And wriggled. Her eyelids fluttered as she stared down at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Aww." He reached up and patted her head, watching her cheeks go bright red. "There's a good milky girl."

"M'lky girl..." she mumbled.

"That's right." He beamed. "So easy to sink."

"Sink... i-into my..."

"Into your touch," he cooed, finishing her thought—and deftly riposting it. She whimpered defeatedly. "Feels so good.Sooo easy."

"Eeeeasy..." she moaned.

"See?" Watching her knees wobble, Nevyn eased her into his arms. She positively swooned. "We can just have a little fun. No need to get attached, mm?"

"You don't wanna be some love-dumb love pet," he teased. The dryad moaned softly as he kept petting her hair. "Just have some fun."

"Like... love pet..."

"No, no." He smirked, cradling her in his arms, stroking her lovely hair. She was groping mindlessly, now, positively milking herself. He licked his lips, trying not to think about... what kind of a mess she must be like down there. How needy she must be.

Honeydew melons were fairly harmless. The flowers were mostly medicinal. But honeydew dryad milk had certain... romantic properties. No indulging. Not this time.

"Lovepet," she mewled, staring up at him needily. Her fingers grazed over his cheek, and he realized to his amazement that they were messy from her milk. Oh. Oh, she was still a little dangerous, this one

He quickly snatched her hand from her, before she could think to slip a finger into his mouth. "Now, now," he cooed, encouraging her hand back to the aggressive, brainless bouncing and fondling—pausing to give a tiny guilty squeeze, eliciting a full-chested moan from her, and oh, gods, she was so soft, so massive and heaving, great big cow udder tits like no other...

... well, mostly no other. He swallowed, forcing all traitor emotions from his eyes as he stroked her pouty lower lip. "No, no," he said sweetly. "Isn't it more fun to have fun? Just a quick, fun, casual delight?"

"Nn." She shook her head brattily, and positively smirked up at him, as if challenging him to disagree. "More fun... ah..." She tilted her head back as he stroked her neck, tickling her just enough to make her squirm. "M-more fun... lovepet..."

"Youwant to be a lovepet?" He shook his head. "No, no. We mustn't do that. I'll be gone in a day, dear." He fixed her with a firm, uncompromising smile. "I'm not the settling type, I promise."

"But... but I..."

"Feel free," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her softly, nibbling her lower lip ever-so-delicately, "to use me... and discard me..."

"Mm..." Her breaths were coming in deeper and deeper. Her eyelids were lowering like heavy leaden curtains. Her moans were getting louder. "Love... pet..."

"No, sweetie," he purred. His eyes were focused on hers. "Come along, now. Why don't you show me your bed?"

Verde blinked up at him. Those deep, deep, lost green eyes shimmered. The emeralds in the water were under the bright sun now, glittering glass in river rapids.

"Here she is," she mumbled, kissing his cheek.

He smiled. "Hm?"

And at that moment, he heard a voice murmur in his ear a phrase he hadn't heard in years.

"Aw, hey, cutie," said an impossibly sugary voice in his ear—light and dainty and delicate, like honeysuckle nectar. "Do you wanna suckle?"

Nevyn froze.

Just for a moment. Just for a few scant seconds. He froze, the words echoing in his mind.

Do you wanna suckle? Do you want to suckle? Want to suckle?

The words of Mistress echoed in his mind. Want to suckle, thirsty boy?

It only took him a moment to regain his composure. He blinked rapidly, turning to face the new arrival. She was pale sage-green in hue, with bright red lips and very, very bright emerald-green eyes. Her hair was woven in elegant tresses of dark forest green locks spilling down to her hips, as delicate as corn silk.

And she was... He quickly closed his mouth, taking an involuntary breath but trying to keep it as noiseless as possible to avoid betraying himself. She was massive. There were, perhaps, three or four fey who could rival a honeydew dryad in size. Only a few who could rival those lush, curvy hips, those massive, indulgent, soft, jiggling breasts.

But she was no fey.

His panic broke like raindrops as he almost laughed out loud. Oh. He'd thought some of those 'tomato' flowers looked familiar.