Shifty Characters Ch. 04

Swish crossed her arms. "You do not scare me, tiny tart. I have fought with dragons." Admittedly, mostly over biscuits and the morning paper, but dragons took their morning rituals seriously enough that this was still a fair boast.

"Huh." Ancyl spat at her feet. "We'll see."

He turned and stalked off. Swish waited a full minute before turning around, smiling weakly. "I am sorry. My neighbors, they are—"

She caught a glimpse of a long blade of bone melting back into Mier's hand. Mier looked at her, then quickly looked at her feet. Suddenly, Swish knew why Ancyl had backed off.

"You were ready to fight for me," Swish said.

Curiously, Mier still didn't meet her gaze. "I...do not enjoy violence. But I do a lot of it." She swallowed. "At least this time I'd have been doing it on someone else's account."

"Thank you. You are a good person." Swish reached for Mier's hand—deliberately, the one that had been forming the sword.

But the doppelganger pulled away. "No," she muttered. "Don't say that."

"It is okay," Swish said softly. She reached out again. "I know you are a good person, Mier."

Mier looked at her, stunned, and suddenly Swish realized the doppelganger had become much, much smaller than her.

Without warning, Mier's legs seemed to crumple beneath her like broken matchsticks. She slid down against the wall. Her hair grew long and tangled, shading her eyes.

"Mier!" Swish dropped to her knees, looking at the doppelganger. She didn't seem hurt, but there was a deadness to her expression.

"I'm so tired," Mier mumbled. "I messed up so bad. I mean, Swish, you don't know. I went somewhere I shouldn't have; went for revenge instead of moving on. Now I'm stuck in this dark cave, hiding from shadows, killing any who threaten me and...me." Her knees raised up, and she hugged them to her face, hiding her eyes. "This isn't how I'm supposed to be! They said there were bounty hunters. Hypnotists—I can't face a hypnotist. I don't have the will now. I'm so f...so in trouble."

Suisshu stared hard at Mier. In an instant, she came to a decision.

"Mier." Swish grabbed Mier's hand and squeezed it hard, trying to force life and hope back into the woman who seemed to have lost it. "I will not let anyone hurt you."

"You should go. Go and hide." Mier's knees lowered, and she gave Swish's hand a weak squeeze back. Swish saw the midriff of Mier's outfit opening, saw the false flesh melting away to show the ugly, discolored knife wound she'd concealed earlier. "My mucked up life isn't your responsibility. I didn't even put out yet."

"Then whose is it? You are not able to be responsible for it right now." Swish pulled Mier into an impulsive hug, then got to her feet. "If there are hunters, I will find them."

"You can't. The warrant doesn't allow for me to be alive. These are trained killers, Swish."

Swish gave her hand a flick. A long, curved, razor-sharp blade appeared in it with a flash. She spun the blade with two fingers, then gave Mier a wink. "So am I."

~~~~

Larya leaped away from Balabar with a wordless cry. He just stood there, smiling as smug as ever.

"I heard you and my thief friend arguing," he said. Larya noticed his silver pocket watch was out. "How unfortunate. You two seemed to really have a bond."

"Just a small point of d-disagreement," Larya said nervously. Half of her—her instinctive side—wanted to keep an eye on the pocket watch. The other half—her lucid side—wanted to avoid looking at it at all costs. She compromised by watching his hands.

Balabar rubbed his palms, as if cold. They were such smooth, gentle-looking hands. These hands had never known the bite of metal or the sting of blisters, never done a day's honest work in their entire existence. Larya felt the insides of her own hands—badly scarred from her days managing the blacksmith's forge—and screwed her courage. "Is there something wrong, Balab—Balabar?" Stammer. Not good, she chided herself. Why does his name have to be so hard to say?

"Oh, I hope not." He smiled. It was such a kind, beautiful smile. Larya wanted badly to trust him.

And then his hands loosened, and the pocket watch fell out to dangle from its long brass chain. Larya's eyes were caught by the movement, and for a split-second she couldn't help herself. She watched it fall.

"There," Balabar whispered, though she barely heard him. She was staring at the watch. It was starting to swing, all on its own, as if by magic. The dim light from the campsite flicked and pranced upon the bright, well-polished silver disc, flashing and dazing her.

Her hands flew to her eyes. "Damn it! We agreed—"

"Oh!" Balabar sounded shocked. "I...I'm sorry, Larya, that wasn't intentional. I wasn't thinking. Old habits die hard."

He did sound sincere. No, you idiot, of course he does, he tricks and rapes girls for a living! And for a hobby. And probably for everything he does! "That's a poor excuse for picking at a woman's mind like it's a lump of goddamn bog iron!"

"No, really," he said earnestly. "I was about to put this watch away."

"You're a pig and a monster." Again, Larya knew she shouldn't be being so aggressive. No matter how true her words were, they could still see her killed. Or worse. But she was just so pissed right now.

"Oh, I may well be." Behind her hands, Larya frowned. Balabar's tone was shifting. "But think about it. I only hypnotize people for a few days at most. And believe me, during this time, they enjoy it. They're very, very happy." Larya could hear his smirk. "And then I leave them remembering none of it. No harm, no foul. They get a taste of something they secretly wanted—"

"Their subconscious wanted it."

"—they get a taste of something a part of them wanted," Balabar continued, louder, "and I get a companion or two for a few lonely nights."

"You're full of it," Larya muttered.

"Am I? All I do is make people happy. Have you heard how happy Sinthia is?" Balabar chuckled. "I know you have. I know you've been looking at her."

Beneath her hands, Larya felt her cheeks burning. "I...I didn't—"

"You've been looking at her ever since you met her. You've watched her every time she moans, wishing you could touch her. You've watched her every time she cums, wishing you could cum with her. You've seen that beautiful, stupid, dazed look in her eyes. The one I saw on you earlier today. And you've wished you could join her."

"No." Larya's heart was beating fast. "That's not true. She hypno—"

"Hypnotized you?" Balabar laughed. It was a musical laugh, long and cruel and beautiful. "She's just a mindless slut right now. She couldn't hypnotize a chicken. You wanted it."

"No," Larya whispered. "She...nymphs can..." She'd read about it once. But here, in the darkness, blinded by her own hands, it seemed so long ago...

"Nymphs? Oh, Larya. Stupid, confused Larya."

"Stop it," Larya hissed through gritted teeth.

"Stop what?" He sounded puzzled. "I only said you were confused."

"You said—"

"Because you said something wrong. Confused people do that. They say things that are wrong, because they're just so confused and horny and can't even think straight, can you?"

Larya shivered. It was the same shiver that had passed through her when the nymph had looked at her, and she had longed to be like—no, wait, that wasn't right—

"You're just so lost, aren't you? You're lost in a big, scary forest." Did Balabar's voice sound closer now? "You're just a scared girl with no one to protect you. And I'm making you soooo horny, because the part of you that matters wants to be hypnotized sooooo bad." He cooed the word.

"N-no, you're—" She felt smooth, soft hands pulling away her own, uncovering her eyes. "Stop, plea—"

"The wrong part of you is talking, Larya. That's the part that's confused. The part of you that matters knows what it wants." Slowly, Balabar peeled Larya's hands from her eyes. She stared in wide-eyed horror as she realized...realized...

Oh. Her eyes had not been shut. So she could see Balabar lifting the pocket watch, so pretty and shiny, as her hands fell uselessly to her sides.

"I think you're a bit of a slut, Larya. You let those ugly little goblins fuck you, and now you're going to let me hypnotize you. What a slut."

She trembled. Something was rising within her. Her breasts were growing flushed, her pussy, so poorly-covered by that tiny little skirt, growing moist...

"But you want this." Balabar's voice raised, very slightly, and Larya was struck as if by a tidal wave by his strength of will. "Say it."

"I..."

"You want this."

"I w...w..."

"You want this."

Larya felt her will snapping. It felt so good, so...so...

"No!" she screamed, kicking Balabar in the balls.

Balabar's eyes widened, and he fell to the ground, emitting a little squeak. Larya didn't stop to consider her confusing emotional reactions to this. She just ran.

Ran.

The haze was still over her. It was there, strong as a wire cage, thick as a gancanagh's pipe smoke, but she ran as fast as she could and tried to forget what she was running from. Larya had always been a fast runner. Frankly, it seemed a miracle that she hadn't fallen yet—the forest was so dense, and the tree roots here were arched and dangerously curved as though designed to trip someone—but she took all her courage up in her arms and ran like wind.

It didn't take long before Larya didn't remember exactly why she was running. She had certainly never had any idea where she was running. She heard cursing and thuds from behind her and only knew she had to keep—

"Oopsy!"

A hand grabbed her shoulder. Larya tried to keep going past, but the hand squeezed with so much strength Larya thought her arm had dislocated.

Larya was jerked completely off her feet, and would have likely hit her head against the ground...had the slender, supple arms of Sinthia not caught and cradled her as she fell.

"Shh," Sinthia cooed, holding Larya's struggling arms against her sides with complete ease. She fell to her knees, flipped Larya over and forced Larya's face right into two round cushions. "Shh. No fighting."

Larya felt the smoothness of Sinthia's breasts as they smothered her. She struggled, but that only produced tiny oohs and aahs from Sinthia as her face involuntarily rubbed against them. She couldn't breathe. She could barely move. "Mmf!" she cried.

"Good girl," Sinthia cooed. "Relax. Sleep." Larya felt fingers tickling down her leg, and jerked reflexively—helplessly—as they pulled up her little skirt and started to get to work. Tickling. Tormenting. Dancing around the one place she desperately needed to be touched. "Relax. Close your eyes."

"Nnmmf..." Larya's mind raced. She was panicking, and when she was panicked her heart beat faster, and she lost oxygen faster, and when she lost oxygen faster...she got tired. "Mmm..." She couldn't tell if she was even trying to say anything anymore. It felt so nice. But she had to do something. Before she passed out.

She tentatively extended her tongue and licked Sinthia's breast. Sinthia didn't say anything, but she seemed to flinch. Larya started licking the delicious skin between the breasts. Distract her. Confuse her. Make her... "Unmm..." She felt the fingers tickling around her cunt and bucked involuntarily. Make her hot. Make her cum. Make her happy. No, wrong, wrong...

Her oxygen was getting so low. She couldn't think. It was like she could feel her brain cells dying, and the more that died the less she cared, and...

"Good girl," whispered a smooth voice. Larya jerked with pleasure, feeling her pussy clench—but not flow. She felt Sinthia trembling beneath her, her grip weak for an instant. Suddenly her arms were free.

Larya forced herself away from the green-haired goddess, gasping for breath, barely standing. She tried to reach downward—if she could cum, she could think—but someone else grabbed her hands.

She looked up, slowly, confused.

Lost.

There was Balabar. There were several scratches on his face and arms, and his coat was torn in several places, but Larya had never seen anyone so handsome. So strong. So...dominating. His orange eyes burned into her, owning her.

She almost came right there.

"N-no," she mumbled, as he smiled down at her. "No. You're gonna...hypnotize."

"You already are hypnotized," he said, guiding her gently—but firmly—to sit against a tree. "You're already mine, you silly little bimbo."

"Oh," she whimpered. She saw Sinthia crawling towards her. "No."

"Stupid slut," he said, his smile widening. It wasn't even said meanly. Just...correcting her. "You're so confused. So sexy."

Larya blushed. "I am?" she whimpered.

"Sexy," cooed Sinthia, pushing up Larya's skirt with both hands and leaning in. "Horny."

"See how happy Sinthia is? Look into her eyes." Larya did. "She's just my adorable little toy. She knows that's all she wants to be. It's all you want to be, too. Isn't it?"

"All I want...a-all I want..." Larya's voice broke. She stared into those green eyes, lusty and fiery and yet...empty. Empty of all true thoughts. Just sex and love and desire and servitude.

"You want to be my slave." Larya could barely hear his words, or focus on the pocket watch as it was swung slowly, back and forth, right before her eyes, back and forth. But she did. It was important, she knew.

She tried to move away. Twice. But Sinthia was holding her so firmly, and the pocket watch was so hard...

"...so hard to concentrate on," Balabar whispered, "when your tiny little slutty brain is busy trying to escape, to get up, to think all those hard thoughts. But your tiny slutty brain really just wants one thing."

The tongue was probing around Larya's cunt. She looked back at the swinging pocket watch, lost in its beautiful swing, lost in Balabar's beautiful voice, lost, lost, lost. Lost, and it felt so good to lose.

The tongue entered Larya's cunt and she gave a soft moan. "No, you can't, I can't be—"

"Are you telling me what to do?" The tongue paused its ministrations.

For some reason, Balabar's scolding tone filled her with guilt. "No. I'm sorry."

"Good girl. You're a good little pet." The tongue resumed. "Call me master, pet."

"Unh..."

"Call me master, you begging little bimbo."

"Bimbo." She giggled. The word sounded so nice. "Oh!" The tongue had flicked by her clit. "Oh, yes. Master."

"Are you my bimbo?"

"I'm your...oh!" Sinthia had licked her clit again. It was like she had deliberately...Larya lost track of that thought as Master reached forward and pinched her nipple.

"Bad girl. Maybe you don't want to be my toy after all."

"Oh! No! No!" Larya shook her head eagerly, even as a tiny part of her mind frothed and spitted with rage. She stared into Master's smug, arrogant, wonderful, perfect face. "I'm your..." Lick.

"You're my bimbo."

"Your—oh—" Lick.

"You're my bimbo."

"Your bimb—OH!" Larya let out a shriek as Sinthia started to lap at her clit with gusto. "Yes! I'm yours, Master, oh, yes! I'm your bimbo!"

The pocket watch began to slow. Larya moaned, bucking against Sinthia ferociously. "Make me yours, Master! Oh, please, now, now!"

"You're very grateful, aren't you? For fixing you like this."

"Th-thank you so-o-o-o much!" she cried. And Larya meant it. She was so grateful to this wonderful man for fixing her. Fixing her brain. Making her feel so good and hot and slutty and obedient and eager to please her perfect, perfect, perfect Master.

She moaned again, screwing her eyes shut in pleasure. Sinthia was licking and growling with her, and she felt so good, and she was about to—

"Stop."

Sinthia stopped licking.

Larya waited. The pleasure didn't resume. She opened her eyes wide, staring at her perfect, smirking master. "I'm so sorry, Larya. I forgot. You were right. Snatch told me not to fuck you. Besides, you told me that this was wrong, didn't you? I'll respect his and your wishes. Sinthia, get up."

Sinthia rose. Her face and mouth was sticky with Larya's juices, and she leaned in to give Larya an orgasmic kiss, forcing Larya's own fluids into her mouth. Larya moaned into the kiss, but could only lie there as Sinthia rose.

"Master," she whispered. "No! Master!"

But her Master was moving, taking Sinthia by the arm. She rushed after them, her clothes a moist mess, and watched as they disappeared into their tent.

Larya dropped to her hands and knees and started to crawl. She crawled to the tent flap and pushed at it feebly. Something was stopping her from opening it.

She knew Master wouldn't like it. And if he didn't like it, her world was gone.

She heard moans and grunts from within. She peeked through. Though the light was almost nil, she could see almost perfectly. She'd always had good night vision.

Sinthia lay on her hands and knees, moaning like a...well, nymph. Master—wonderful, handsome master—was clutching her by her hips.

As Larya watched, actually drooling, Master drove his beautiful cock into Sinthia's pussy from behind. Again. And again. His stamina was unbearable—to Larya's fractured mind, anyways. She watched, whimpering, as Sinthia came.

And as Sinthia was screaming with bliss, she looked straight at Larya. And smiled. And giggled, as if Larya was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.

Even hypnotized, fey could be cruel.

Larya knelt there for what felt like hours, watching her Master fuck the toy that had hypnotized her. She couldn't masturbate. She just whimpered, and whined, and begged. She promised to be a good slut, to be her Master's pet forever, to serve and protect and be fucked. She begged to be hypnotized again.

Lost and confused, the bimbo eventually drifted off into a sleep of unsatisfying dreams.

~~~~

Swish prowled through the undergrowth, disguised in her fox-form.

She knew the disguise wouldn't be worth much against other fey, of course. Still, it kept her low to the ground. Besides, she thought, grinning inwardly, it made her feel a whole lot sneakier.

She had come to the camp. The goblins had been right—hunters were in the forest. The little fox sniffed the air.

Steel. Sex. Walnut leaves. Feces. And a very strong scent mingling with the second one—something unique, and peaceful. The fox sniffed the air again, enjoying the pleasant odor.

But these six scents meant something. Steel meant hunters. Dung meant humans. Sex meant...well, sex. The walnut leaves she recognized from Sinthia, the wood nymph who ran one of the denser parts of the Greatest, Darkest Forest.

The fox shook her head. Sinthia wasn't exactly cruel, but she was vain and oversensitive—easily riled up by travelers or fellow fey who did not show "proper" respect. That she was involved in this couldn't be a good sign.

The sixth smell...She frowned. It had to be the druidess the goblins were looking for.

She suddenly became aware of a seventh scent. A sour, tangy scent she knew quite well and was heartened by. Fairies.

Looking around, she noticed several flying overhead, and gave a little yipe to alert them to her presence.

The fairies were some of the only fey in this land she genuinely liked and respected. Of course, in fairness, many of them were not from this land. Fairies traveled with the wind high above the clouds. The three here paused, seeing her, and smiled brightly. One had wild hair and skin as black as night, another had violet hair and the dusky brown skin of one from the ice, and the third was as fair-haired and skinned as a local.

"Hey!" the fair one hummed at her. She zoomed down to perch on Swish's nose, her little (but relatively enormous) breasts bouncing violently from the speed of her descent. "What's up, Swish?"