Intrepid Pawns Ch. 08

The Thriae and catgirls up above were cackling and cooing down at her, making taunts and promises and threats. Yathi understood none of them. She vaguely understood that one of the catgirls was promising to use the dryad on her, or to use her on the dryad, but she couldn't even tell which of them was being teased. She gave a vapid smile up at the pitcher dryad, who gave a weak smile back. The smile was disrupted as the catgirl seemed to twist the runerod, causing her face to screw up in simple pleasure.

Yathi giggled. She hoped they sent the dryad down here with her. She needed someone to share all this with!

~~~~

"You'd like to go down there with her, wouldn't you?" Menta purred in the dryad's ear. "Back into your nice little... cocktail."

"Y-yes," the dryad whimpered.

"Do you think you deserve her?"

"I... this slut deserves only what her Mistress, Menta, tells her she deserves."

"Good girl!" Menta smiled and gave her fellow catgirl a little smile. Obediently, the catgirl increased the power of the runerod, eliciting a rapid moan.

"Um, like, wait a second!" Kifina scowled. The airheaded Thriae put her hands on her wide hips, pouting. "I thought we were gonna share her!"

"We are!" Menta smirked. "But I want a little show, is all."

"Oh!" Kifina's scowl vanished, replaced by a look of surprise. "That sounds, um, fine! I like shows!"

The other Thriae, 'Vissy', seemed less confident. "How do we know you aren't gonna use your pet here to claim her for yourselves all the way?"

"Ah, Vissy, it's Menta." Kifina giggled, blatantly ogling the gasping dryad. "She wouldn't trick us!"

"But how can we be sure?"

Menta clasped her fingers, concealing her scowl. Right. Her lovely honeys weren't all as dumb as Kifina. Important to keep in mind. "It's true, we could try that. But why would we ever?" She fluttered her eyelashes. "We love Tsimpi and Kentri." This wasn't even a lie. She hadn't even seen the band's commander yet, nor her second-in-command, but she was looking forward to the reunion.

"Yeah, but you love good pussy better," Vissy said, licking her lips. "And I bet you want that scout all to yourself."

"Vissi," Kifina burbled, running a hand over Vissy's shoulder possessively, "shut up. I wanna see the show!"

"K-Kifina." Menrta marveled at how quickly Vissy went from stiff and blunt to submissive and stammering. "I... I, um, really think we should be considering..."

Menta gave her fellow catgirl a very subtle nod, and the vibrations of the runerod stepped up. The dryad let out a loud cry.

"Mm." Kifina leaned in and started kissing Vissi's neck, soft, suckling sounds coming from her smacking lips. "We can watch 'em fuck like bunnyfolk..."

"K-Kifina—"

"... I know you like watching," Kifina purred.

Vissi let out a tiny little moan. Menta licked her lips, though she tried to be subtle about it.

"Imagine those lips," Kifina gestured to the dryad, "on that slut's pussy? I need to see it! I need to!" Her tone was almost bratty. "So be a good girl and do as Kiffy tells you, like you always do!"

"B-but... Kiffy, we were told..."

But it was clear Vissi was losing the battle. Menta gave her a wide, smug smile. Nice try, her eyes said. "C'mon, Vissi," she murmured, leaning in and stroking the Thriae's breast. It was a brazen move, but Vissi was too horny, and Kifina too dumb, to call it out. "Don't you love watching someone submit?"

"Submit..."

"Someone who should know better," she cooed in Vissy's ear, "but she's just so horny. She's so smart, but it doesn't matter how smart you are if you turn into a dumb little sluuut when you get horny, does it? Even another dumb little slut can control you when you get horny."

She felt Vissy grasp at her ankle, as if begging for her to stop. "H-horny..."

"So she's gonna be a good girl," Menta said, and she gave Vissy a little lick. "And she's gonna let us throw that dryad in there, and she's gonna..."

"Vines..."

"That's right," Menta said, and her voice was as smooth as silk, "she's gonna—wait, what vines?"

The grip on her ankle tightened.

Menta gave a catlike yowl of surprise that only lasted a moment before she channeled her focus into the plants around her. The vines that had grabbed her instantly turned into ash, and she bounded onto a nearby tree branch. The Fifth Circle catgirl druidess looked down, eyes narrowed. Our vine dryad is being a naughty, naughty girl.

Down on the leaf, Kifina and Vissi had managed to escape as well. Menta's fellow catgirl was lying there on the leaf, moaning, but already Menta could see that she was cutting her way free. She needed to hurry. More vines were on their way to entomb her.

Her ear twitched, giving her a second's notice before another vine struck at her from behind. She leaped to another branch and swung her druidic power backwards, obliterating the offending tendril.

She hesitated. Together with the Thriae, they could probably settle this. But Menta couldn't trust the Thriae not to make a move on Yathi.

And Menta had already decided that there was no fucking way they were giving up the knight.

We'll be back later, she though, and she started leaping from branch to branch, vacating the scene. The Thriae and catgirls would follow suit, scattering into the forest. Menta planned to have a few words with a certain misbehaving slut.

She left the dryad on the leaf. Lost cause. The pitcher dryad lay there and could only whimper as the vines began to cover her. Then she began to scream.

~~~~

Brist lay on the forest floor, giggling like mad, moaning like the best pair of lips in the world had locked onto his cock and started to suck him like a lollipop.

And it was all from two feathers.

The dark-skinned crystal mage had never been so sensitive. He'd never been so turned on, so tormented, so... humiliated. The two catgirls—one a redhead, one a brunette—sat on either side of him, pinning his arms beneath their asses. The redhead had begun to subtly stroke herself on his arm, humping it like an animal in heat. But that was the least of his troubles.

The pair of them seemed to delight in teasing, and as it turned out, they were very, very good at it. His cock, lips and sides had become impossibly ticklish. Even his long, frizzy white hair was hard to bear where it brushed his shoulders. The magic of the catgirls had rendered him helpless against their little touches.

He'd lost the bet fair and square. Brist realized that. But his mind was simply awash in need now. He needed to cum. He needed release, relief. He needed to do everything they told him so they would let him cum.

He squirmed in vain as the redhead delicately ran her feather over his cock. "N-no!" he cried. "Please, I—I y-yield already! Y-you have... heeheehee..."

"Ooh, no." The brunette smirked, trailing her feather over his lips until he could do nothing but giggle like a hyena. "You're so cute like this! I think we're gonna keep you like this for a while."

"Months, maybe," the redhead said happily, her eyes squinting slightly as she ran her wet slit over his limp arm. "Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Y-yes!" He knew the answer they wanted. He'd already learned it was always best to give them the answers they wanted. "But... but I need to... heehee!"

"You need to lie here," the brunette purred, tickling his lips again, "and be a good giggly tickleslut for us! Don't you wanna turn us on?"

"Uh-huh!" Brist was disturbed at how easily this answer came. Was it even a lie? A part of him loved this. Loved being dominated, teased, tickled to the point of tears. "B-but..."

"Then be a good tickleslut," the redhead cooed, tickling his head mercilessly. His cock throbbed, pulsing with need, but she was being just careful enough to keep him from achieving release. "Moan for us! It's so cute when you moan!"

Brist couldn't help it—not when she was stroking his cock like that, not when the brunette was kissing his neck like this. He moaned. This only encouraged the redhead, of course, and she started tickling his glans with fine, pitiless movements. The young mage trembled and shook and cried out in tormented pleasure.

"You know..." The brunette gave him one last wet kiss on the cheek. "I think he likes this, darling."

"Ooh, yeah!" The redhead giggled. "Definitely! Look at how big his cock got!"

"I'll bet he wants to be our pet forever."

"Yeah! I bet so!" The redhead leaned down, continuing to rain down sweet torture on his oversensitized member. He shook, staring up into her bright green eyes. "Is it true, big boy?" the catgirl whispered. "Do you want this?"

"I... I... aaugh!"

"If you say yes," the brunette hissed, "we'll keep you forever."

Brist closed his mouth. He'd been about to say it, he realized—just to give them the answer they wanted, just so the redhead might lay off with the teasing for a half-second. He shook and shivered, barely holding the truth in.

"C'mon," the redhead whined. "Tell me! Tell me!" She started rocking back and forth on Brist's arm, and Brist realized she was having a little orgasm. The feather seemed to get faster and faster on his cock. "Tell—tell—meeee!"

Brist could only giggle. Not even this display could finish him off. It only turned him on more.

"Say, boy," the brunette cooed, "if you do like being a tickleslut, you should tell us."

"Yeah..." the redhead sighed. She wiggled her hips a little, her ears perky in afterglow. "'Cause we'll let you cum if you do."

Brist stiffened. He felt the pallor draining from his cheeks.

No. He had to fight it. had to... had to...

... He stared up into the brunettes heavy-lidded eyes, overwhelmed by her sheer sexuality. Her feather trailed down his chest teasingly. Her long, rough tongue poked out and slowly, sensuously, licked her lips.

"I do," he whimpered. "I like it!"

"You love it?" the redhead cooed in his ear. And even her breath tickled agonizingly.

He finally snapped.

"I love it!" Brist burst out. "I... I love being your tickleslut! I'll be your tickleslut forever! Just please let me cum!"

The catgirls exchanged twin looks of glee. To Brist's surprise, they leaned over him and kissed each other for a long moment, then pulled back and grinned down at him.

"We were lying," the redhead said, giggling.

"But you weren't," purred the brunette, and he gasped as a second feather started trailing along his shaft. The stacking sensations were unbearable."You want this. So we're gonna give it to you."

Brist's cries of despair transformed into blissful giggles as they went back to work.

~~~~

Trys raced through the forest, doing her level best to retrace the path they'd taken to reach the pitcher plant. Her heart thudded in her chest. At any given second, she expected plants to shoot out at her, expected a whole pack of catgirls to burst out of the bushes and tackle her to the ground.

But no one did. And when she finally returned to the clearing, she was astounded to find that all of their gear was still there, just where they'd left it.

With one notable addition.

A pale, freckled catgirl with brown hair and a cute heart-shaped face was there waiting for her, hands clasped behind her back.

"I knew you'd be here soon," she said happily. "Menta tlod me you were up to mischief!" She winked.

Trys eyed her sword, resting by the hypnotic thistles. She bit her lip. She'd never make it.

"You won't make it," the catgirl confirmed. "I'm Morrowii, by the way. Call me Mew." She winked. "Boy, you're sexy. Had some mead in your day, huh?"

Trys assumed a combat stance. Even unarmed and naked, she was perfectly capable of defending herself. But she had no idea what sorts of magic this druid could bring to bear. "A long time ago," she said bitterly. "Stand aside."

"Okay." The catgirl smiled and stepped to the side.

Trys stopped short and blinked. That had not been the response she'd expected.

The catgirl gestured to the sword and gave a wide grin. "Go ahead! Take it!"

Trys hesitated.

She considered it a moment. Yes, this was obviously bait. But if Mew was being so kind as to let her take the sword...

"You smell nice," purred the catgirl as Trys edged past her. "Like mead—and, wow, I haven't had mead in ages. And you smell like two of my sisters. Sure you don't wanna try me? I promise I'll let you stop whenever you wanna."

Trys had to stop herself from showing hesitation, despite the sketchy promise. She was not an idiot. But she was very, very horny. She hadn't gotten to come that last time.

She reached down for the sword.

So distracted was Trys in her thoughts, she didn't even think to check her flank. It was a foolish, tired error.

And so she was caught quite off-guard when, as she bent over, something popped into her pussy. Something furry, long and soft. "Oh!" Shocked, she reflexively tried to straighten.

The tail that had entered her seemed to... vibrate.

Trys fell to her knees, panting for breath.

"Feels good?" Mew laughed. "It's my own special spell." For emphasis, the tail twisted around, tickling her clit quite badly. "It's gonna make it so hard to think when you're cumming. You'll get fun and stupid in no time! I was gonna use it on your mage, but, uh..."

Trys tried to speak, tried to rise, tried to grab the sword, tried to do anything. But the tail vibrated again, a silken stroke across her clit, and an orgasm flickered and flared within her. She shook and moaned, going all-but-limp on the ground. It was all she could do to stay on her hands and knees and ride it out. "S-stop..." she managed.

"Nope!"

Why couldn't she get up? Why couldn't she pull away? Trys moaned as she felt the catgirl circle around her and place her hands possessively on Trys's breasts, toying with the nipples. Why was she being so...

The second orgasm caught Trys badly off-guard. She trembled and shook, losing all semblance of balance—only the grip of Mew held her up and kept her from just collapsing. The afterglow filled Trys like sunbeams, and she was too blissful and sleepy to even notice as Mew used one hand to spread her legs for easier access. "That's a good toy," Mew whispered. "That's a good toy."

"But..." Trys shook all over. "I, um... I don't wanna be a toy."

Her voice had changed. It was squeakier, more confused. A mild lisp had taken over.

"Ooh, I think you do," Mew chirped, and Trys felt fingers dipping into her pussy. "You're just too smart to realize it! But being a toy means pleasure!"

"Nuh-uh!" Trys was astonished at herself. Why was she talking like this? Like a... like a...

Mew was laughing as her fingers pumped in and out of Trys. Trys shivered as another orgasm was drawn slowly out of her. Mew drew this one out as long as possible. "See how good it feels?" she whispered. "Being a toy means pleasure!"

"Um... but I, um..." Trys's eyelashes fluttered unwillingly. Those fingers felt amazing!

"You sure are cumming a lot," Mew cooed, and Trys felt her fingers stroke her clit lovingly. "What a bimbo!"

"I'm not a—a—aaah!" Trys shook badly, lowering her head to the ground to keep her balance. Her ass was totally presented now.

She blinked blearily. I must look like such a bimbo! she thought, biting her lip.

"Not a what?" Mew sang.

"B-bimbo!" Trys repeated, moaning. Those fingers were irresistible

"You're a bimbo?"

"N-n—" Trys stopped short. Here she was, her ass presented, getting fingered by an enemy. All she could feel was bliss. Her mind slowly clicked towards a solution. It took surprisingly long, considering how much sense it all made.

"Yes!" she squeaked, delighted that she'd found the answer. The fingers were bringing her closer, and closer...

"Ooh, good girl! Being a toy means so much pleasure!"

"B-but—" Trys frowned. "But I'm not s'posed to, like... Mew, I thought I was—"

A rough little tongue lapped once, twice, three times against her clit, and she came. Pleasure filled her body, and she whined and babbled her bliss. As she came, she felt everything else empty. All the doubts washed away, replaced with Mew's sweet voice as the fingers kept stroking her, kept drawing it all out. "One last time, bimbo: What does it mean to be a toy?"

And finally, Trys knew the answer.

"P-pleasure!" she squealed, and she came again instantly, as though the word itself felt good to say. "Pleasure! Being your toy means pleasure for this dumb bimbo!"

"Good girl!" Mew sounded positively ecstatic. "You finally figured it out!"

She beamed. It felt so good to give in to it. So good. She was such a good girl. Such a dumb, stupid bimbo, eager and ready to be used.

But as Mew rolled her over and started to lick her out, Trys felt a cool steel brush the small of her back. She stuck one hand beneath her and felt a hard, metal handle. Oh. She'd almost forgotten about that.

Trys was very stupid. She was also still Trys. And she still had to save her friends. Slowly, dazedly, she grabbed the object.

Mew was so occupied licking her out, she didn't even notice what Trys was doing until the blade was pressed against her throat.

The licking halted abruptly. Mew looked up at her, blinking.

"Where's Brist?" Trys demanded. "And, like, Ia?"

Mew stared at her for a long moment. A smile started to form, but it faded as Trys dug the knife in a little. "Why do you wanna know?"

"I'm gonna save them!" Trys glared. "Now, tell me what I wanna know, or I'll, like, cut your throat!" Some part of her quailed at the idea of hurting Mew—Mew was so nice and friendly, and she made Trys feel so good—but the catgirls were still enemies, and Trys the Warrior was not so easily silenced after all her years of training.

Mew had to do what she said, right? Trys had the knife. She had the power!

Mew just kept staring at her. Her green eyes glimmered. "You sure?"

"I... yeah!" Trys was getting agitated. Why wasn't Mew telling her? She was supposed to tell her! "Tell me where they are!"

Mew leaned forward and gave Trys's clit a little lick with her long, rough tongue. Trys gasped. "They're safe and happy," she purred. "You can join 'em soon, I bet."

"S-stop that!" Trys cried. "I'll—I'll cut your throat!"

"Sure you will," Mew cooed, licking her again. "And then you'll never find them. But you're so smart, I bet you have a solution to that."

Trys blinked. Her mind seemed to be moving very slowly, but she tried to—

Mew started licking with new gusto. Trys let out a loud moan, the thought slipping away, replaced by simple, blank-minded pleasure. Oh, fuck. Her eyes widened. Her fingers trembled. Being a toy means pleasure. Being a toy means pleasure.

Don't drop the knife, she thought desperately. Don't drop the knife! The tongue filled her with bliss, made it impossible to think straight. Don't—don't—

The pleasure crackled through her like electricity, and she shook and moaned. Mew just kept licking, drawing it out, continuing to build her higher and higher. Her fingers shook. The knife trembled inn her weakening grip.

But she held on.

Her mind was buzzing. She felt even foggier than before.."Um..." she giggled. "I, um... you were supposed to stop!" She giggled again. It was a little funny, despite it all. She'd been so horny. She was still so horny.

She squirmed, feeling the catgirl continuing to overwhelm her with that wonderful, glorious seductive tongue of hers. "S-stop!" she whined. Her blonde curls bounced as she struggled to remain sitting up, struggled to hold the knife steady. "Like, I'm gonna... gonna do something, kitty!"