Intrepid Pawns Ch. 09

Okino stared, squinting. Yes. It was a light. His heart sang with relief. Adrenaline filled him, blotting out caution. A light! At last, a window! He hurried towards it, and as he went, he noticed the air growing warmer as well. It was daytime outside! Perhaps he hadn't lost too much time after all! He could get out, he could rejoin the others, and he could still salvage the mission!

But it's not an exit, whispered a sibilant voice in his mind. I'll never leave this place, never leave Ytheri. I never want to leave Ytheri. He pushed the voice back down as he came to the hallway corner where the light was coming from. His head was buzzing with excitement.

His nose twitched. He... smelled something. Something pleasant. And his heart sank as he recognized it.

It was the glorious, delectable smell of spicy mead.

He had come to an open archway leading into what looked like some sort of kitchen. Unlike the hallway, which was covered in soft black carpeting that matched the walls, this room's floor bore a colorful spiraling tile mosaic. It made him a bit dizzy when his eyes lingered on it too long.

The source of the light he had become so unreasonably hopeful for was, in fact, several strange golden balls hanging from the high black ceiling, each varying in size from the size of his head to the size of a small mastiff. Looking closely at them, Okino could almost swear he saw creatures writhing inside those orbs. Writhing humanoid shapes, contorting in passionate embrace.

He tore his eyes away, heart filling with dread, and stared across at the fireplace. A chimney. So there was an exit.

But in front of it, directly blocking his vision, was a large, perky ass wiggling back and forth. His eyes followed those wide hips upwards, tracing the curves, to a narrow waist and a large, pronounced bust. Their owner was facing away from him, but he could tell that the only thing she was wearing was a lacy blue apron. Her hair was long, golden, and curly, and it bounced in time with her breasts as she danced in place.

The wasp-waisted blonde was stirring something on the woodstove, humming a cheery tune.

The humming hadn't reached him instantly. He hadn't noticed it as he'd come up the hall, but now Senya realized it had always been there. It had seeped in. Buzzing. Staticky. Listening to it too intently made him dizzy. So did tuning it out. Senya swayed slightly, as his mind slowly pieced together what the gorgeous woman in front of him meant.

The Thriae. His eyes widened, even as he swayed in place. The woman who had tickled and teased him when he'd been ordered to stay still, the woman who had fucked him in his sleep earlier.

The gorgeous creature whose humming was filling his mind with gooey nonsense.

Thoughts spun into his head unbidden. He desperately tried to shut them down, but the gooeyness was just seeping into him,pervading his heart with lusty daydreams.

He imagined advancing on the slut. Her ass was practically being presented for him like a target. What if he just stepped up and gave her...?

No! He needed to move, and fast, before she noticed him. Okino tried to will his feet to budge. He needed to advance, or he needed to run, but he needed to do something.

He took a deep breath, trying to rally himself, to steady his nerves and steel his will. But all he breathed in was spicy sweetness. Honey and liqueur and nutmeg and cloves and cinnamon. Spices he didn't know by name and yet instinctively knew, spices humans had been trained by their Thriae owners to melt for since before written history.

His head spun. He felt himself sagging against the doorway. He imagined pleading for a sip of whatever it was she was making. She would turn around and giggle at him, offering him a spoonful, maybe even letting him lick the bowl, and maybe after he gave in she'd be kind enough to...

He was almost too dizzy to see straight now, but his eyes somehow remained perfectly fixated on her ass as it swung back and forth. The Thriae kept humming, and kept wiggling in time with the music, as she stirred the concoction in the pot. She seemed totally rapt in her cooking—almost as hypnotized by her task as he was by her.

Okino wondered if Ytheri had ordered her to cook something up for them. That would explain it. Nobody could resist anything Ytheri wanted.

Move up to her, the buzzing, gooey part of him whispered. Get her in the ass. Thriae are smart when they're the ones in control, but they're dumb as fuck when they're horny. Fuck her stupid and get up the chimney!

His knees were quaking. Run, he tried to tell himself. I can't take her. She'll melt me like butter.

Feels so good to melt...

He breathed in again, and again. His mind was sinking into cushioned bliss. It was so hot here. So comfortable. His brain was all fuzzy now. What had he been worrying about? It had been important. He... he needed to escape.

His cock was pressing uncomfortably against the towel, he noticed, so he adjusted where the two sides of the towel met so it could stick out between them. He smiled at his cleverness. It pointed out, straight as an arrow, at the Thriae's ass in front of him.

It knows what it wants, he thought numbly. He imagined kneeling down in the archway and begging her to... no, he couldn't think these things...

It felt like hours had gone by. His mind was in a stupor. It was all he could do to remain standing, leaning against the doorframe. Had to fight. Had to run. Had to fuck. Had to remain standing, because if he fell...

Fuck her! his mind insisted. Fuck her 'til she's yours! She'll be weak, thanks to Ytheri!

You're weaker, the other part of him said. So weak. So horny. So weak and horny and obedient. So horny. Such a good boy...

Okino slumped completely against the doorframe, letting out a soft sigh of pleasure. He reached down with one hand and felt his cock pulsating with need. Maybe if he came, he'd be able to think straight. The Thriae was so distracted. He was so close, it would only take a few seconds. He started to stroke himself, breathing heavily.

And it was at this exact moment that the Thriae turned around, still humming to herself, eyes cast towards the mug she was blowing on. Okino's hand shot from his cock as his heart slammed into his gut.

A long moment went by. She seemed quite distracted trying to cool the mug's contents off. Okino's heart was pounding.

Then the Thriae looked up. Their eyes met. Her lips parted in a mute 'O' of surprise.

He stared at her, needy, weak, desperate.

“Oh!” A hand flew to her mouth as she stared back at him.

He was practically gasping for breath, now, taking in more and more of the delectable scents. He slid further back against the wall. Had to fight... had to flee... had to fuck...

Slowly, the Thriae's surprised expression changed to one of sly amusement. She looked him over, golden eyes sparkling in silent laughter. "Oh, you're all ready for me, aren't you?"

With one hand, she unclasped her blue apron and let it fall to the floor. With this done, she sauntered over to him. Her hips swayed and breasts jiggled with every step. His eyes followed the sensuous motions.

She came to stand in front of him, biting one lip, and reached down to touch his cock. He couldn't move. Her fingers stroked gently over his member, making his very soul quiver. "It's all out for me an' everything," she whispered in wonder. "Oh, good boy."

His cock throbbed at the praise. "I..." Okino tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry. "I," he croaked.

"Here," she said, all smiles as she handed him the mug. "Drink, my thirsty boy."

He accepted the mug and stared down at it, full of dread. The fluid inside was viscous and the color of a creamy amber, like melted butter. It was mead. True mead, the kind the Thriae were known for. Just as addictive and delicious and arousing as the honey, but imbued with a wonderful enough scent to brainwash a man from forty yards, given time.

He'd given her a lot of time.

"I-I can't," he whimpered. He started to tip it over, but then she took his hand and held it steady. Her eyes held him just as firmly as she lifted the mug to his lips. "Thirsty boy needs his drink," she cooed. A she spoke, her fingers softly caressed his cock. His whole mind felt like it was full of wool.

"P-please... I mustn't..."

"But you must," she purred. "And you know you will eventually. It's what Mistress wants.”

No. He struggled to keep his mouth closed as he felt the warm, tingly fluid oozing onto his lips. He breathed in and smelled the intoxicating scent, but at least he wasn't drinking it. That was something, right?

"Do you know what mead is?" she asked him, smiling. He kept his mouth determinedly shut. "Mead means pleasure, boy. Mead means pleasure for silly humans who don't know how good it feels to belong to us. Silly humans, silly catgirls, silly elves and mothboys and mothgirls... and don't you feel nice right now?"

He tried to close his eyes, to look anywhere but her eyes of molten gold, but she held him there, just as she held his hand on the mug, just as she held his cock in her slender fingers and continued to slowly edge him towards bliss.

"It can feel so much nicer. You're breathing it in right now." She giggled. "Can't you feel it filling you up like a balloon? Your cock's getting soooo hard. I can feel it." She purred the word.

His cock was hard, but that was just because she was stroking it. Right? "Mm-mmh!" he managed, shaking his head. The mug followed his movements, staying at his lips.

"You're letting me stroke it," she hissed. "You're letting me hold you here. That's 'cause you know how good it feels."

No. She was poisoning him! He tried to lean away, but she just leaned further in, breasts jiggling again. It was so hot. So heady.

The towel fell to the soft carpeted floor, forgotten. His eyes were lost in hers. His mind was lost in the scent of mead. His cock was singing with pleasure at her soft touches. Only his will struggled to hold on, adrift in a sea of oozing, gooey, spicy syrup.

Her fingers kept pumping him, slowly but steadily. They were slick and sticky, and he knew why. His cock was tingling, too, now. He trembled.

"If you don't like it," she said sweetly, "just make me stop."

Yes. He had to make her stop. With the hand she wasn't holding to the mug, he reached out and tried to push her away. Had to break free. Had to get away from her. But he felt so... so weak...

She gasped as his hand pressed against her cleavage. "Ooh. Or do we want more? Naughty boy!"

She grinned devilishly at him. He felt the hand on the mug leave his and travel down, taking his hand and adjusting it. Now his hand rested directly over one of her full, flushed breasts. He felt her pert nipple pressing against his palm.

"You want more!" she squealed, elated. She stroked him a little faster, and he felt his knees start to buckle. He was sinking down to the floor, and when he got there, she would mount him. And when she mounted him, he would be lost for hours.

With every submission, he grew weaker.

"I'm gonna give you," she breathed, her voice almost a moan, "so much more, since you want it soooo bad."

His eyes widened. "Mm-mm!" he protested.

"Mm-hmm...." She smiled. "You love me, sweetie. I make you feel so good!" He felt the orgasm building below as her fingers slid up and down his shaft, lubricated, expert in their attentions. He felt the warm, sticky lactation beneath his palm as he continued to press against her breast. Smelled the wonderful scent of mead as it filled his mind with gooey obedience...

"No!" he cried.

And as he cried it, mead oozed into his mouth. Even though she'd released his hand, Okino was still holding the mug up to his lips.

"If you don't want it," she said, giggling, "why're you drinking?"

He stared at her as his mouth closed. He could taste the wondrous mixture now on his tongue. Spicy and sweet. It made his whole mouth tingle.

"It's not too late though!" she cooed. "You just need to not swallow!"

Yes. She was right! She was so smart. Trembling with pleasure from her strokes, from her proximity, Okino tried to... tried to...

But his mouth wouldn't obey him when he tried to spit. He pursed his lips, but nothing came out. He tried to open his mouth, but his lips wouldn't obey him. At least he remembered to lower the mug before more slipped in.

"Aw." She giggled. "I think you like the taste!"

He looked at her with wide, desperate eyes. Did he? Was that why? Was he that weak?

"Here, sweetie." She pursed her lips. "Kiss me. I'll eat that nummy treat up for you."

She was stroking him faster and faster. He was breathing heavily, smelling more and more delightful scents. It was so hot... so humid...

He leaned in, heart pounding. Could she really save him?

He realized his mistake when she smiled. Then she leaned in and grabbed him in a kiss like no other.

The buzzing filled his head completely as her lips mashed against his. She moaned against him. He was shaking uncontrollably, leaning in deeper for the kiss. He tasted the poison in her saliva, and it was wonderful, sweet and spicy and intoxicating. Her tongue thrust into his mouth, twining with his own.

Honey filled his mouth, and instantly, reflexively, he swallowed. The honey-and-mead mixture trickled down his throat, stimulating every nerve in his body. For a moment, his mind just shorted out, and he lost himself to her lips and tongue.

And then he was sliding against the wall. His knees buckled completely. His ass touched the soft carpet. Defeat coursed through him, and it felt...

... so good.

She was laughing delightedly as she grabbed the mug and sank down atop him. Her pussy walls contracted. His whole cock was tingling and throbbing enough to drive him mad. He stared up at her as she grabbed the back of his head and tipped it back, her eyes gleaming with pure lust now. The blonde fey straddled him and moved the mug to his lips, eager to pour more mead into his mouth.

"Open wide," she cooed. "Be a good boy!"

With every submission, he grew weaker.

Just as his lips parted, she began to bounce in his lap, and he came. Sweet, sticky pleasure flooded him, drowned him, and then she was pouring mead down his throat, and he was drinking, moaning, begging and pleading. She gazed down at him with triumph as he drank the last gulp down.

He licked his lips, desperate to savor the last of the exquisite beverage that had damned him. His body was sinking deep beneath the syrupy waves as ecstasy rushed through him.

"Mine," she said sweetly, leaning close. He felt her slickness drawing the orgasm out, and already he could feel the next one boiling up inside him. The mead was taking effect. Taking control. "My good, sweet boy."

And she kissed him again, and his mind fell utterly into honeyed bliss.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Goblin's Note: Thanks so much for reading! We're gonna be taking a break from Intrepid Pawns for a bit to focus on Monstrous Ranch, but rest assured, the gang will be back in good time. :)