Roses and Violets Ch. 04

"Oh no! I've been chained up! Whatever will I do, Rose~?"

Rose rolled his eyes and continued weeding the flower bed. "I know that's one of the trick sets, Kitten. I saw you take it from the lab. You'd better put it back."

The garden shed had three pairs of trick handcuffs, actually. Agents of the Weaver's Guild often carried them for certain mind control techniques, and Violet was quite fond of subduing Weaver agents, brainwashing them, and taking their stuff.

Kitten giggled, and with a click, the ex-cat burglar escaped her handcuffs. "You're all cranky today!"

"Yes, well." He moved on with his rake to the next patch, scowling at the dirt.

"Are you still mad about yesterday?"

"They just won't let up. They're insufferable! And Mistress always believes them over me!"

"Well, duh." Kitten stuck out her tongue. "Girls know best!"

"Girls know best," Rose echoed helplessly. He shook himself. "Y-Yes, well--well, they'd better--"

He frowned down at the patch of lullaberry vines.

"They'd better what?" Kitten chirped.

Rose bent down, ignoring her, and touched a strand of vine. "This has been cut." He put a finger to the tip of the cut, noticing the fresh sap. "I didn't cut it."

"You probably just forgot." He could hear the smirk in Kitten's voice. "Maybe Mistress came out and made you humiliate yourself while you were out here, then brainwashed you to forget the whole afternoon?"

"Why wouldn't Mistress let me remember something that humiliated me?" Rose flushed, hearing how that sounded. He straightened. "Lullaberry... you're not really supposed to, um, pick it. I mean, it's mainly useful if you're planning to make wine with a lot of it, and the fermentation process takes..." He wracked his brain. The former Toxin Ranger had always been good at this sort of thing, but his mind was much more cluttered than it had once been. "... at least six months. Unfermented, the berries on their own carry too many side effects."

"Side effects?" Kitten batted at a butterfly with one hand, head tilted cutely to the side.

"Y-Yeah. Like, um, the berries are a powerful aphrodisiac, but they also cause paralysis. Mental numbing."

"Sounds like fun~"

"Yeah, well, numbing is... I mean, if you want to use the berries to brainwash someone, numbing's the last thing you want. They'll actually resist mind control better." He bit his lip. "I mean, aside from being paralyzed and uncontrollably horny. But the wine's a lot more useful." He ran his finger beneath the delicate strand, careful to avoid the thorns. "Why would someone..."

"Oh, Ro-o-o-o-ose~" chimed Violet's heavenly voice from a window.

Rose straightened hurriedly, blushing furiously. He tried to ignore Kitten's little giggle as he went to put away the tools and--as Violet called again impatiently--hurried inside to see to his Mistress's needs.

~ ~ ~ ~

Esneci smirked, watching from her scried view of the throne room as the Brat Baroness toyed with her little pet gardener. Excellent. That would keep her busy for a while.

The Weaver made her way down the passages of Violet's castle, stolen keys jangling at her side. Gods, this place was tacky. So many of the paintings on the walls were of Violet herself, or were ostentatious as hell, or both. All the curtains were the same blue as her eyes, and the windows were all stained pink glass that cast rosy sunbeams over the gaudy paintings--no doubt costing a fortune.

As soon as Violet was safely under the Guild's thumb for good, the first thing Esneci would do would be to put all these adorable thralls of hers to work redecorating. She rather liked the idea of taking Violet's place here.

Esneci was so preoccupied with thoughts of just what she would make Violet do for her once the Baroness was humbled, how she would enjoy breaking Violet's will when Violet was on her knees at long, she wasn't fully paying attention as she reached to open the door to Violet's personal bedchambers.

She realized too late that she'd picked the wrong door.

The room was occupied. Three gorgeous blondes sat on the bed, apparently having been interrupted mid-conversation.

They blinked up at her, then at the keys at her side.

And they grinned.

Inwardly, Esneci sighed. She started running over her group enchantment spells. This would necessitate a... change in plans.

~ ~ ~ ~

A few days had passed since the broken bottle incident, and Rose had continued to notice herbs going missing from the garden--especially the ripe lullaberries vines. He was getting frustrated. He knew he was the one who was going to get blamed for the thefts.

He kicked the dirt. Someone had cut into the dizzygrass this time--a rare plant from the Northern Isles known for its mind-spinning scent.

It was the barmaids; he was sure of it. He didn't dare accuse them, though. Violet would just believe them over him and punish him for making false accusations. Plus, she'd find out the cuts were missing, and punish him more for that.

Regardless, it had him in a sour mood, and that made him less wise than usual when Amber came up from behind him and gave his ass a pinch.

He jumped, dropping his trimmers, and spun around. His face reddened as he saw the barmaid laughing. "Excuse me," he snapped, "I'm trying to work here!"

Amber giggled and patted him on the head. "Sure you are!"

"I am!" He felt indignation rising in him, and it pushed out words he immediately regretted. "Not that you'd know anything about work."

Her eyes gleamed. Rose's breath caught.

She leaned in.

"Oh?" she purred.

Rose bit his lip, squirming, knowing he ought to back down immediately but unable to help himself. "I--I just, I spend all day tending Mistress's gardens, and all you seem to do is... is make it harder for me to do that!"

"Aww, am I making it harder?" Amber pouted sympathetically. When Rose flushed and ducked his head, she took two fingertips under his chin and made him meet her eyes. She giggled. "Sugar, this ain't real work, you know. Mistress just gives you this to keep you busy." She leaned in very close, and Rose gasped as she cupped his ass, pulled him close to purr in his ear, "And to keep you nice and accessible for us~"

"N-No," Rose whimpered, "no, my work is... I'm the..."

"Oh, sugar, boys can't do real work," Amber said smugly. "The only thing they're good for..."

She pressed her hot, curvy body up against him and grinded her hips against his. He couldn't hold in his soft cry of pleasure.

"... is giving their brains to their dumb cocks," she cooed, "and cumming them aaaaall away~"

Rose panted, trying to muster some sort of objection, some sort of human speech.

"The real work is clearly all done by pretty girls," she sang, grinding a little harder. "We're so much awfully smarter, stronger, better. The real work is us capturing new toys for Mistress. That's what she really cares about."

Rose wanted to object--wanted to bring up all the reasons he knew this wasn't true, knew his work was important and real--but right now, actual words felt like slime slipping between his fingers. He was already grinding back, soft cries escaping him with every rock of his hips.

Amber beamed. "Gosh, just look at you," she crowed, caressing his cheek as he moaned and humped away. "See why you can't be in charge? See why you could never do real work like us girls?"

"Yes," he whimpered in humiliation, knowing this word would mean Amber would keep letting him grind, and he needed more, needed to feel more of her soft, supple body pressed against him, needed to submerge his melting mind beneath her heat. "Yes, yes, yes..."

Amber laughed at him, pulled him closer by the collar, and took him in a passionate, dominant kiss.

Rose melted into her embrace. He grinded and humped against her leg, unable to care about how humiliating this was, how shamefully he was behaving. Her kisses were as soft as clouds, her plump, pouty lips smacking lewdly against his skin as she moaned into his mouth. Her tongue slipped past his lips, and he half-collapsed right into her arms.

She pulled away with a loud, satisfied sigh, and smiled at him as he swayed there, panting for breath, his vision clouded in a rosy haze.

"I think that proves my point~" she cooed, and gave him a light shove.

Rose squealed as he fell on his ass in the middle of the dizzygrass.

Instantly, puffs of pollen surged up around him like a swarm of angry bees, and he couldn't help but take in a breath.

And his world spun round and round like a gyroscope.

Swaying violently, he blinked up at Amber. She gave him a little princess wave. "Have fun, sugar~" she said with a gooey-sweet smile, and twirled to make her exit.

"Amber!" he cried, but then he couldn't see her, couldn't see anything but the swirling colors of the blurry world behind him. He breathed in again, and he didn't even realize he was falling until the back of his head reached the soft, silken grass.

His cock was throbbing in his pants, but even lifting his hand felt impossible. All he could do was buck as beautiful hallucinations danced before his eyes--gorgeous girls giggling and cooing down at him, tickling him with feathers and fingertips, tormenting him with delicate little kisses all over his back

Before long, Rose was moaning freely and loudly, bucking and drooling. On the waking level of his mind, he prayed one of the nicer maids along along before one of the more mischievous servants like Kitten found him.

But as he heard the clicking of heels coming down the path, Rose knew luck was not on his side today.

"Oh. My. Gods," Violet's eyes were wide, and there was a big, delighted grin stretching across her gorgeous face as she came to stand over him. "Wow, just look at you. You really are a mess."

"A-Amber," he moaned.

"Yes, she told me everything." the Brat Baroness giggled. "Sounds like someone's been a naughty boy~"

"N-Nhgh..." Rose tried to speak, but the whole world was still swimming, and seeing Violet's gorgeous form just made him want to buck and squirm even more.

"Playing in the flowers," Violet cooed, extending one delicate high-heeled shoe and grazing the toe over his imprisoned cock. "I should have known this would be, like, way too much for a dumb boy to manage on his own."

Rose whimpered and babbled his incoherent panic. She was going to take this job away, he just knew it, and then he'd be no use to her.

Not except maybe as a full-time playtoy.

"I think I'd better do something about this," Violet said thoughtfully. "You know, as your smart, sexy, mature Mistress. Don't you?"

"Gguhhhh..." No, no, he couldn't bear this...

"I know!" She brightened. "I'll follow Amber's super-cute idea!"

Rose froze.

Oh, no.

"I-Idea?" he managed to slur.

"Uh-huh!" The Brat Baroness giggled and clapped her hands excitedly. "It's soooo smart and clever. I mean, I basically thought of it, but she was really, like, my muse, you know?" She arched an eyebrow, leaning down over him and daintily pressing her toe a little harder against his place of need. "Aren't you so glad your Mistress is so much smarter than you dummies?"

He whimpered an assession.

"I know you are." She smirked. "So, I think you need a supervisor. Someone to keep you from getting up to trouble." Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "And guess who volunteered?"

His blood went cold.

He tried to muster a rejection, a protest, anything. His lips slurred the words, his dizziness stole seconds from him, and it came out garbled and nonsensical.

Violet seemed to misunderstand his excitement--or, just as likely, pretended to. "Oh, you're excited, huh?" She looked quite pleased with herself. "You're so excited your Mistress thought of such a smart idea for you, aren't you?"

His protests died. He meekly nodded.

"Good." She giggled. "Now, quit playing around, bimbo boy, and go thank her for being willing to put up with your dumb boy brain~"

She spun on her heel and left.

Rose lay there bucking and squirming for another hour still.

Then Kitten found him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Rose was still finding bits of pollen clinging to his clothes as he stumbled up the steps to the barmaids' play room. Normally they spent most of their time at the tavern in town--where they'd so nearly ensnared him long ago--but they'd been in the castle a lot lately. Violet had given him an order. He had to follow it.

And maybe, while he was at it, he could get down on his knees and beg for mercy.

He swallowed. It wasn't much of a chance, but it was better than nothing.

Rose hesitated as he reached the door. Swallowtail, monarch and crystalwing butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

Aching with embarrassment, he raised his hand to knock.

Then he smelled it.

At first, Rose didn't fully register what he was smelling. It was too much, too many scents all muddled together in a cocktail of sensory overload. He was still in a daze, even after Kitten had thoroughly 'cleaned him up'. But he knew these scents well.

It was the sickly sweet-and-sour scent of dizzygrass. And there, underneath it, was that the sweetness of lullaberries?

His heart slammed into his chest. I knew it. Before he could think to stop himself, he'd swung the door open.

This time, the scents hit him like a tidal wave.

He slammed the door shut and spun to lean against the door, breathing heavily. This was... this was bad. This was very, very bad.

He hesitated, then turned and opened the door again.

The barmaids' room was, unlike most rooms in the castle, not decorated by Violet. The barmaids were her favorites, her trusty spies, and so were trusted with enough autonomy to decorate themselves. It was lavish, but tasteful, with dark blue hanging drapes blocking all light, a single great four-poster bed with three pairs of plush pillows--two pink, two white, and two blue.

The smell was almost overpowering in here. He had to lean against the wall for balance. It was coming from the walk-in closet. That was where the stolen herbs were being kept.

Rose swallowed, pulled up his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, and edged a little closer.

He could swear he could hear something behind that door. It sounded like...

... a woman's voice.

A woman's moans.

The moans of a woman panting for breath.

Fear almost stayed his hand there. This was a bad idea. He was going to interrupt the girls at play, and then they'd have him fully at their mercy when they were already in a mood.

But he had to know. He didn't have a choice..

His hand went to the doorknob, turned it, and pulled the door open.

The woman lying inside was alone. He didn't recognize her--at least, not well. He vaguely knew her as a new recruit to the castle. He couldn't forget a face like that, with shimmering copper curls, thick lashes over big brilliant gray eyes, a pleasingly round face, and a curvy, enticing frame currently on full display.

She was naked. Silk scarves bound her hands and feet, and two were wrapped around her head as a gag. Rose realized the latter two scarves were stuffed full of bundles of dried dizzygrass, which they held right in front of her nose. She was being forced to breathe in nothing but sweet, tainted air.

The new recruit was bucking, whimpering, moaning, panting for breath. Her whole body was red and sweaty with exertion. She was dripping, drooling, her eyes heavy-lidded.

Rose stared, briefly lost in her jiggling curves, in the so-rare sight of a pretty girl who had been totally humiliated.

She looked up at him, and her eyes widened. "Mmm! MMMMF!"

"I..." Rose hesitated. The barmaids would surely be back soon, wouldn't they? He knew from experience that if he interrupted their game with this new employee, he'd become part of it.

But something about her desperation made pity override good sense, because he lingered. Trying not to stare, he looked about for something to cut the cords with. "I, um, are you..."

His eyes settled on something resting on a dresser. A set of maid's clothes, neatly-folded and pressed. He reached for them. These were surely her...

He stopped. He reached, slowly, for the folded letter that rested next to the clothes.

He heard the woman's cries arch, her desperation rising. "NNN! NNNMF!"

He unfolded the paper carefully, just in case it contained anything toxic--old habits died hard.

To Esneci of the Pale Strings, by order of the Weaver's Guild,

He recoiled from the note, heart racing faster than a scared rabbit's. He looked with wide eyes at the note. He felt like he was staring at a coiled, venomous snake.

But the snake was behind him.

Rose heard movement behind him just before Esneci tackled him to the ground.

He landed among the cushions, struggling desperately. The fine pollen was all over her, all over this room, and without his mouth covered it was flooding his lungs with every breath he took.

She rolled him over and stared down at him. She was still bound, and normally he'd be easily able to overpower him, but

a pretty girl

was humping

His lap.

Rose's mouth went dry. "N-No," he groaned, but she pressed in close, bringing her face up close so he could share in the scent of her drugged gag. "No!"

But she was so pretty. So desperate. Her eyes glittered with amusement tinged with desire, and she pressed in tighter, moaning softly in his ear. He couldn't tell if her focus was on subduing him or fulfilling her desires, but right now she was doing both easily.

"S-Stop!" he cried, breathing in more of that scent. "Get o--MMF!"

She'd pressed her face against his, 'kissing' his lips with the gag. He inhaled reflexively, and his head spun with uncertain reality.

He went limp in her arms, and she smiled brightly. Her gag melted away, and then her lips were on his, soft and luscious, and his cock was throbbing, pulsing, and

He thrashed beneath her, whimpering as he snapped back to reality. He raised his hands and managed to shove her off of him, but she felt so heavy, and--

"Be a good boy," she cooed, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him to her breast. "You know you can't resist. You know girls always win."

"N-No," he cried, realizing his arms had gone limp and she was back atop him, so warm, so soft, her skin so smooth as she ground against him. He writhed until he managed to roll her onto her

back, and her legs wrapped around his, and he could take it no longer, he was plunging into her, moaning, listening with rapture to her squeals as he panted his mantra, "Girls rule, boys

"drool," he whispered. Reality flowed back into him. She was trying to loop her bound arms around his neck, to pull him in close, but he flung himself back and scrambled to his feet.

Dizziness washed through him. He nearly collapsed, but he somehow made it all the way to the closet door. He heard her moving behind him, moaning, pleading, but he stumbled out the door--basically clinging to the doorknob just to stay standing--and slammed it shut as hard as he could.

Instead of clicking shut, it bounced back a little from the frame. Stupid cheap locks! He kicked it firmly shut.

It took him a long moment to recover enough balance to hobble out of the barmaids' bedroom. He closed this door, more carefully this time, and locked it.

His heart was pounding. His head still felt airy and light, like a sponge cake that had risen too high in the oven.

The barmaids had captured an agent from the Weaver's Guild. Had they told Violet? Surely not--she'd have been left in a separate area for reconditioning.

The barmaids had disobeyed a direct order to bring any spies to Violet directly.