Roses and Violets Ch. 02

He squirmed beneath her gaze as memories of earlier that day flickered through his head unbidden. The impossibly curvy Kittycow whimpering, pulling that poor man to her chest. Violet talking down to him, enslaving his mind to adoration. Sitting beneath the stall and smelling the sweet milk. The three bimbo barmaids pulling him down into bed and smothering him with adoring kisses. Gods, how had he ever escaped them?

He needed to not think of such things. But he could already feel it—a delicate, probing presence against his brain. Violet was feeling his mind out, and even those little scouting touches made his lips part and his breath catch.

They were such soft, gentle, tickling touches, like antennae brushing over his brain. And the knowledge that Violet was smart enough to feel him out first, to search for weak points...

... that he hadn't been smart enough to learn more before crawling right into her clutches...

"How old are you?" she breathed, a knowing smile flickering across he face.

Gerrim knew not to answer—but at the faintest tickling, the words slipped like giggles from his lips. "Twenty."

"Aww." She smiled brightly. "I remember when I was twenty. So cute and innocent. Still figuring out your place in the world."

"A-Aren't you twenty-two?"

Violet raised an eyebrow. Her smile had faded slightly "Two years make a ton of difference, boy."

"Right."

Gerrim tried to keep his tone neutral, but as soon as the word left his lips he saw anger flash across Violet's face. The anger came as bright and hot as a wildfire, roiling in its intensity... then flickered back into her smirk just as quickly, concealed to near-perfection.

She smiled at him with an expression of pure, condescending fondness.

"That's right,, she cooed, brushing her hair back with a little girlish giggle. "So don't you worry about a thing, silly boy. You've got your momma to take care of you now."

Gerrim's heart quickened, and he felt his cheeks heating up. "Um. I, um—ah! Ooh! Um—aah!" He shook and struggled for breath.

"That's right," she said softly, as her feathery touches on his mind became more insistent, more daring. "We're a good boy, aren't we? Gotta respect our elders."

"O-Only two years," he whimpered, squirming in the cramped vent as the touches grew longer, gentler. She knew what his mind looked like now, he realized, staring into her gleaming blue eyes. And she was getting ready to... to take it. His mind. To take him. And even those tiny touches felt so, so good.

"Oh, you're barely more than a boy," she purred. "And—oh my god, are you still a virgin?" She giggled. "You need me more than I thought!" As she leaned in, Violet's eyes glimmered like twin sapphires. "A smart, sexy, experienced woman to show this boy how good he deserves to feel."

"N-No." Breathing heavily, Gerrim fought the mental caresses off, shaking his head vigorously. He was a Toxin Ranger. He had this. He could fight her off, regain the advantage. The clasp at his throat was proof that no ordinary mindweaver stood a chance against his training.

"Take off your badge," she said happily, giving his mind a gentle squeeze.

"Okay," he replied, smiling as he undid the clasp and let it clang to the floor of the vent.

Oh. Uh-oh.

His look of horror must have been pretty funny-looking, because Violet entered into a giggling fit. She clung to the slots in the vent, her eyes as bright as stars as she beamed at him. "Oh mygod, your face right now! Not used to being put in your place, are you?"

Gherrim's hands fumbled for the clasp, barely even thinking.

"I like that clasp," she said, leaning in close and smiling mockingly. "It'ssoooo pretty."

He felt another gentle squeeze, and it felt so, so good as he wordlessly passed the clasp through the grate and let Violet take it. She giggled and bounced happily like a girl receiving flowers from her faithful beau. "Thank you!"

Her gratitude squeezed his mind tenderly, and he felt almost molten at that look in her eyes, that sunny smile, that eager bouncing.

"Mnn." He bit his lip, heart pounding. Bad. Bad. He watched in growing dread as Violet slowly clasped the Ranger badge to her shirt. She beamed up at him. "Aren't I pretty now?"

"Y-Yes." The words were slipped out from him like butter under his feet, coaxed by Violet's sweet, gentle will. Gerrim knew his face had to be as red as a basket of strawberries right now.

"Aww!" She clasped her hands together and swung her hips back and forth, smiling so sweetly up at him. "You're such a good boy for me. No wonder you came here." She leaned closer. "Oh, by the way, why did you come?'

"I—" Gerrim bit off the words. He scrambled, head spinning from the incessant little touches and strokes Violet's will was giving it to keep his brain as happy and docile as a puppy. "I-I, um..." He needed a lie!

"Come on! Come on, boy!" Violet spoke like she was coaxing a puppy out from under the bed. "I want to know now, silly boy!"

"I... can't..." Gerrim felt her will slowly starting to tighten. She had wrapped around his mind like a serpent around sleeping prey, he realized. And now came the suffocation.

"Tell me now," she demanded, and there was no patience whatsoever in her tone. "Tell me. Tell me now, or else!"

Gerrim couldn't betray his Order. He couldn't! He clutched his head, falling onto his side in the vent, as the squeezing grew more and more unbearable..

"Tell me," she chanted. "Tell me. Tell me and I'll make you cum. Tell me or I'll make you the dumbest, sluttiest orgasm-blocked toy I have. Tell me, you brat! Your momma is asking you a question!" She glared up at him. "Why are you here? Now! God, you're being so unreasonable! Tell me now!"

If she was feeling frustrated, it was nothing compared to Gerrim's struggle. He squirmed and whimpered, feeling her pouring magic into him, compelling him to give the Brat Baroness exactly what she wanted. Everything she ever wanted. And he wanted to give it to her so, so bad. How could anyone refuse her anything? It felt impossible.

But he couldn't do it. Gerrim couldn't give his new colleagues up, not on his first mission ever. A Toxin Ranger never gave in—especially not to some amateur mindweaver barely two years older than him!

He stared into Violet's eyes as she leaned right up against the vent, her pouting lips turned down in an infuriated frown. "Tell me," she demanded, her lips brushing the grate. "Now."

Gerrim stared at her, helpless as her magic flooded his tired brain. He felt his will melting away between his legs, as her scent—lightly perfumed, but also a little bit musky from her play with the not-catgirl—tickled his senses.

Her scent.

He stared at her, trembling. "O-Okay."

Immediately Violet was all big smiles. She bounced in place, squealing with excitement. "Finally! God, you were being so stupid about that. So who sent you?" Her eyes gleamed, watching as Gerrim reached into his pack. "Do you have written orders? I've never seen a Toxin Ranger before. Are there more coming? When will they get here? Is it true they make you wear a chastity belt at all times? Because, wow, you're gonna be so grateful to me when—"

Gerrim held his breath, brought his hand up to the grate, and gave the puffy little red flower in his hand a gentle squeeze.

Violet blinked. That was all she had time to do as a burst of pollen exploded from the flower. Gerrim shielded his face as best he could as he heard her let out a different kind of squeal.

She fell away from the grate, coughing and blowing. Her face was covered in golden pollen, and though she was trying to cover her mouth and nose, Gerrim could tell by the display that she'd already inhaled some.

He carefully brushed the pollen on his hand onto the floor of the vent and brushed his face clean, just in case. Then he lowered his hands and watched her intently.

Violet was staring at him, hand over her mouth as her struggles to cough up the pollen ebbed. "What did you d—whoa." She blinked big, blue eyes. Her pupils were dilated slightly. "Whoa. Wow. Um. Wow!"

Gerrim barely held in a soft sound of relief as her grip on his mind started to loosen.

"Mistress?" whimpered Kitten, still desperately humping her own hand. She was tangled up anew in the dress, eyes wide as she stared up at her staggering owner.

"I. Yeah." Violet shook her head, as if trying to dislodge a pesky fly. "What was. Wow. Kitten. Wow. Need."

"Mistress," the ex-burglar cried.

"Kitten, I need you..." Violet trailed off, eyelids fluttering. "Oh. Huh. Yeah." She looked around, tilting from side to side. "Ooh. Yeah. Kitten." She stumbled backwards.

"Mm!" Kitten nodded desperately, staring up as Violet came to stand right above her. She bit her lip and gave a soft mewling whine.

"Kitten," Violet breathed. "I... need... your... tongue. Now."

"Mm!" Kitten nodded again and tried to rise, only to fall back down pathetically.

"Kitten." Violet's voice broke. Gerrim watched as she stared at him, then back at Kitten. Her hips rolled as she rubbed her thighs together. "Kitten, I need you now!"

"Yes, Mistress!" Kitten struggled to rise again, and her anguish was almost physical as she slipped back down, still bound by her lovely, tangled lacy dress. She immediately tried again, to only more pathetic results.

"Kitten. Kitten, please." Violet was panting. Her hands crawled over her chest. "K-Kitten!"

"Mistress!" cried Kitten, and she lurched up and locked her fingers onto Violet's dress. She immediately lost her balance, though, and Violet gave a startled squeak as she fell atop her pet, her dress half-slipping off in the process.

Gerrim bit his lip and snapped out of the show. Violet's mental control had slipped away, and as she clung to Kitten, forcing her pet down under, he had a brief window of opportunity.

He tested the vent. To his intense relief, it popped out of the frame, just as the barmaids had said. After making sure none of the remaining pollen was drifting around, he crawled through.

Violet was crying tears of joy as the tricksome axinea pollen did its work—and Kitten did hers, eating Violet out with a desperation normally reserved for someone dying of thirst brought to a fountain of ambrosia. Her tongue lapped rapidly as she moaned and sighed and cooed with every lick.

And Violet, sensitized and lust-drunk from the pollen now in her system, could only writhe and lock her legs around Kitten and cry out in pleasure.

"Y-You'll submit to me!" she shrieked, thrashing in place—Kitten held her by the hips, pressing her against the floor for easier licking. She glared up at Gerrim. "Do it now, and I might let you—aaaAAAH!" The orgasm seemed to hit her like a tidal wave, and she quaked and screamed as Kitten just kept licking, drawing it out longer and longer, building her fast towards the next. "N-Now!" she wailed. "S-Submit, boy!"

"Or?" Gerrim put his hands on his hips and stared down at her. She stared up at him—then at his crotch.

He bit his lip and slumped slightly to hide his erection. The Rangers never taught you how to hide when the enemy made you this horny.

"Or... or I'll..." She raised a quivering hand towards him, only to cry out as Kitten moaned and kissed and sucked and licked. Whatever magic she'd been attempting flickered out.

"Wow. I'm very scared now." He folded his arms, eyebrows arching.

"Sh-Shut up!" Violet's eyes blazed, even as she tweaked her nipples with one hand and entangled her fingers in Kitten's hair with the other. "I-I'm... just, um, t-taking a moment..."

Gerrim walked over to the cabinet and picked up a ring with three keys on it.

He walked past Violet and Kitten to the door and turned the appropriate-looking key in the lock. The only entrance aside from the vent and window was sealed.

He turned back and smiled. "Okay, Baroness. Take all the time you need."

"Y-You asshole," she whispered, biting her lip to hold in another shriek as Kitten took her over the edge again. He self-control was a little remarkable. "I'm gonna turn you into the b-biggest bimbo in town when I g-get out of here. The village bicycle."

"How do I put this?" Gerrim tested the door again for emphasis. "You're not getting out of here."

"Y-Yes I—aah! I always do!"

"You get lucky." Gerrim started rummaging through the bookshelf. A lot of books about mind control. A book with cute cat drawings. A book full of lewd catgirl drawings. Nothing useful. If he wanted to get people here deprogrammed, he would either need to make Violet do so—and he wasn't sure he had the chemical know-how for that—or just spirit her away and call for backup. Probably the latter. He just had to make sure she'd be... docile.

"I'm the best mindweaver you'll ever meet." Violet's voice sounded small and fragile, and not just because Kitten was moaning and kissing her clit with visible tenderness.

"Swallowtail says you caught her and the other barmaids because a poisoned drink meant for you got mixed up and she drank it by mistake." Gerrim checked the window for safeguards—no sign of wards, but it would probably be best to take the vents, especially with that ivy around. Maybe he could deprogram Kitten enough to have her help. "You had her help you catch the other two. They would've crushed you otherwise."

"She—no! That's a lie!" Violet's face was burning as she struggled—but despite her wriggling, she still held Kitten between her legs. "I planned that! And she shouldn't be able to tell you that! Oh! K-Kitten, you've gotta... ooOOH!"

"You stretched the mind control too thin." Gerrim tested the bed, then sat down and opened up his pack. A sleeping dose for Violet would do. Maybe make extra, in case he needed to subdue Kitten. "you think you're way stronger than you are because you got lucky. Lucky."

He worked in silence for around a half-minute, getting out ingredients and his mortar and pestle. Violet said nothing, aside from her gasps and moans. Her face was pale, though with anger or fear, Gerrim didn't know.

Until he heard her softly whisper, "Please. Please, it's t-too much..."

"No, it's not." Gerrim mashed some numwillow bark with the mortar and pestle, spitting into it to add some moisture. "It's just tricksome axinea."

"I-It feels too much!" Violet whimpered. "Please, just—just a bit of antidote! Aah!"

Gerrim sprinkled some dreampoppy seeds into the concoction and mashed some more. "You're fine."

"No," she whined, "no, I'm not, it's too much—can't—aah!"

Gerrim looked up, blinking as she came to a fifth? Sixth? Orgasm. Her face was even paler than before—or was it just the moonlight? Her complexion offset those brilliant blue eyes in a way that made her look almost faerie. Innocent, even.

Kitten's licking and kissing were an endless background of sound as Violet's thighs tightened around the pet's head. "Just let her go, then," he said impatiently.

"No." Violet's lower lip was trebling. "I want her."

"You are such a brat." Gerrim scowled down at her. "Has anyone ever said no to you in your life?"

She looked up at him, eyes teary, and shook her head. "Please." Her voice was horribly weak. "I can't stop. It's so much. It—it hurts."

Gerrim stared down at her.

Violet's lie was feeble—pathetic, even. Wicked axinea wasn't a sensitizer. All it did was build lust and heighten pleasure. She clearly knew nothing of the plant, which was no surprise. People like Violet were opportunists, bullies, but they had no idea how to deal with someone like Gerrim who actually knew what he was doing.

Although...

He hesitated, looking at her critically and trying to mask his doubt. There were occasional reactions. Could she be allergic?

She whimpered like a puppy as Kitten mewed and planted kiss after kiss after kiss on her pussy. She looked so pathetically desperate, and Violet didn't strike him as much of an actress. Could she be telling the truth?

He decided to test it. "Admit you got lucky."

His words echoed in the little bedroom.

Violet's lips parted in horror. "Wh—n-no! I didn't!"

"Then the dosage isn't too high." He started to turn back.

As he stepped towards the bed, though, he heard a tiny whimper.

"I got lucky."

Gerrim stared down at her with one raised eyebrow. The egomaniacal baroness was staring at him with an expression of pure, lusty need.

"What was that?"

"I got luuuucky," she moaned, rolling her hips as kitten wrapped her arms around her ass and thrust her tongue into Violet's cunt. "S-So lucky! I—I used Swallowtail's m-mistake to brainwash her—her friends. And I c-caught Kitten bec—" She squeaked as Kitten planted a quick kiss on her clit.

"Because?" Gerrim asked, his voice soft. His cock was hard as he gazed down at her. He needed to be sure. And he wanted to drive this point home.

"Because she tripped over my... stuff." She bit her lip. "She'd—she'd tied me up, made fun of me—she drew 'slut' on my face in lipstick—b-but she tripped on my... on that book." With a trembling hand, she pointed up to the bookshelf. Gerrim realized she was pointing at Catgirls in Heat, one of the copper-piece smutty illustration collections that were so popular these days. "And then she... made fun of me for it. A-And my posters."

"Oh, Mistress," whined Kitten, though Gerrim could barely understand her—and wasn't sure if she was hearing what Violet was saying, or was just overcome by ecstasy as she licked another screaming orgasm from Violet.

"And while she was making fun of me," Violet blubbered, "o-one of my sex toys was... wrapping around her."

"Yes?" Gerrim sat back down on the bed, shifting slightly to hide his erection as best he could. He didn't dare say more. He didn't dare interrupt.

"And she noticed what it was doing, the i-i-ivy," Violet mewled. "And... she started wrapping me up in it... sh-she wanted to play, only... oh, she said I..." Her face grew brighter still. "She said I begged so n-nicely, she'd take me with her. And that meant we got caught, 'cause we ran into Swallowtail on the way out."

"Wow." Gerrim took a deep breath. "You did get lucky."

"Mm." Violet nodded eagerly.

"You only captured her because you were such a bimbo," he said, shaking his head, "that she wanted to keep you for herself. And someone else had to save you."

She nodded again, almost robotic. "Please, please, just a... just a tiny bit, it h-hurts so bad..." Her eyes squeezed shut.

Gerrim grimaced.

Okay, there was no way she was this good an actor. She wasn't talented enough to be this good an actor. Or humble enough. This amateur actually was allergic to the stupid flower.

He sighed, reached into his bag, and pulled out a tiny bottle. He unstoppered it, knelt next to Violet and took the Brat Baroness as gently as he could by the hair. "Okay," he said wearily. "Just a bit—"

Violet's eyes widened.

She lunged and grabbed him by the wrist. Gerrim's heart thudded into his throat as she yanked his hand to her mouth, made him toss back the contents of the canister, and drank it down in one greedy gulp.

He jerked his hand away, and little droplets of antidote splashed on the floor and onto her face. But almost all of it was gone.

Kitten let out a happy sigh. "Ooh, Mistress..."

Gerrim stared down at Violet, shocked. Violet smiled up at him.

He tried to move away and found that he couldn't move a muscle.

"S-Silly, naïve boy," she cooed, as her mind sensuously wrapped around his, tightened, and embraced him once more like a lamia around an old flame. "Soooo gullible."