#cloisteredcreatures

Want a little snack? I brought them with me. This place is so busy, and the food can be so heavy. So heavy, and rich, and exhausting. Sometimes it’s just nice to sit out of the way and nibble a little. Go on.

You want a nibble? Hmm?

Oooh, yes, you do~!

Aww, that’s nice, isn’t it? That’s soooo nice. It tastes so good, doesn’t it? So refreshing. And so pretty!

Here, have another. Ooh, that’s nice and sweet on your tongue, isn’t it?

Oopsie! I dropped one in your lap. Teehee, sorry, this booth is soooo cramped with the two of us, isn’t it?

Here, let me get that for you. No, no, you don’t mind my hand there. You like it.

Mm. Yes, I think you like it, like, lots~

See? I can smell it on you. You think it’s really nice having my hand on your thigh. Ooh, yes, you do.

I have such soft, slender fingers, don't I? I bet they'd fit down your pants. Right down your hands, so soft, so easy.

You want me to try? Ooh, don’t worry, of course you do! Heeehee! Don’t worry about it. Here, eat some more yummy treats.

Isn’t that nice?

Ooh, yes, it is! You love this! So cute.

Gosh, I can tell you love eating these little snacks. They’re just like little flowers, huh? They taste so good! But it’s hard to describe what they taste like, huh?

You have to really savor it to understand.

Let it sink in… let it sink, sink, deeper and deeper as my hand slips around and strokes you, deeper and deeper and deeper… Here, have another. Yum! Heehee!

My hand probably feels so good right now, stroking you, playing with you. Mm. Yes, it does. Of course it does.

Go on. Put your arm around me. Pull me close. Feel my hot little body. Nobody will care. Eat another flower. There’s a good drone. There’s my good drone. Ooh, yes, you are.

Nobody minds seeing a good, happy drone eating lotuses. In fact, they probably think you look soooo cute right now. Teehee! Aww. What an adorable little drone you’ll be.

The pleasure’s just making it so hard to think. Your mind is getting so soft and wet and horny. You love being my drone. Love feeling me against you. Love eating them. Ooh, yes, you do! Good drone! Go ahead. In fact, you love them so much, here’s the whole bowl. Heehee!

Try a sip of this, now. Drink deep. Deeper. Deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper... Here, I’ll help you. Shh.

Don’t fight. You don’t wanna fight. No, you don’t! Heehee!

That’s better. Isn’t it? Ooh, yes, it is.

So pliant.

So obedient.

So blank and docile. Keep drinking while I… make you a little easier to access.

Nobody will notice me slipping under the table, between your legs. There’s my good drone. There’s my good bimbo drone. No, they won’t mind us. Nobody ever bothers us. They just let us have fun with the odd visitor who—mmm—doesn’t know any better.

They’ll just see two happy bimbo drones having fun with each other. And you like being a bimbo drone...

... don’t you?

Ooh. Yes, you do~

Mmmm… ooh, mm, yes you doooo...

*slurping noises*

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lotus drones are a little-known but particularly dangerous species of the Cloistered Lands. Corrupted by the effects of a strange plant, they have only two goals: Eat and drink from the flowers they serve, and multiply.

Some speculate that the drones are filled with small ingested “seeds” within the plants. Others speculate that the plants are actually sentient, and impose their own hivemind over their drones. Others believe that lotus drones are a rare type of Low Fey, or a mutation off of daemons.

There has never been a lotus drone captured successfully for study. The last serious attempt resulted in the claiming of what is now known as the Lotus Tower, and the loss of nearly a hundred skilled mages in the process. Meanwhile, a Thriae hive that attempted to capture and brainwash a single lotus drone ended up split in two as half the Thriae and their mortal playthings were converted to serve the lotus, proving that even High Fey are not immune to the lotus drones’ charms.

Mostly, people just try to leave lotus drones alone. The drones prefer to focus on those who show special attraction to them, and so the best way to avoid being converted into a lotus drone is simply to avoid being turned on by them.

Of course, anyone who would touch themselves simply from reading about the creatures is probably in a lot of trouble if they ever meet one in the flesh.

You can, if you want. I mean, it is, like, totes suuuper adorable when you get flustered and embarrassed about stuff.

‘Cuz like, it is kiiiinda embarrassing...

... how you're just watching me play...

... listening to the pretty song as it trickles into your ears and flows into your mind...

... and already, like, *soooo* enthralled by me. Sooo helpless to look away from me, from my pretty plump lips so perfectly, delicately playing the flute, from my big, pretty eyes watching you soooo smugly. Sooo enthralled, totally helpless to resist just one pretty girl~

And gosh, like, it’s totally, like... sooo hot how easy you gave in to a pretty girl's charms.

But it's only natural, you see! It’s only natural to give in like that, for cute little weak-willed adorabelles like you. So you mustn't be embarrassed (except at how you're still listening, still letting my music wash all over you, such an easy little toy you are for a pretty girl with a sweet song and a cute smile and some beautiful glimmering eyes)! No, no, not embarrassed at all! I mean...

... well...

Except in that hot way where every time my eyelashes flutter, I can see you squirm

and blush

and try to speak, only for my pretty song to sweep you away like the tides, sweep all the words from your mind...

... like a slow but irresistible current carrying you back to me, right back to obeying pretty girls, because it's, like, very important to obey pretty girls, isn't it, cutiepie?

Go on, nod for me~

Teehee! Aww, I saw that cute li'l headbob! Gosh, like, you're suuuuuch a cute little weak-willed toy! I mean, it seems like a pretty girl has to do is give you a teensy little suggestion while batting her eyelashes, and you stop thinking and

just~

obey~

the pretty girl~

And you're juuuust gonna keep right on listening to my music, nodding along to my whispers, even though I’m, like, totes just a silly little bimbo and you should for suuuure know better...

You’re just gonna keep nodding along...

You’re just gonna keep blushing a hotter and hotter shade of pretty pink...

... just gonna keep listening...

... just gonna keep. Wanting. To.

obey

the pretty girl~

Aww, I don't even need the flute anymore, do I? I bet I could, like, totes just melt that cute little drippy-drippy mind of yours with one bounce of my pretty-bouncy-boobies!

Or even just... one little itsy-bitsy kiss~ 💋

Teehee! Omigosh, you just blushed soooo cutely at that! I'm totally right, aren't I? Ooh, ooooh, yes, oh gosh, just me blowing you a kiss, just, like, the thought of getting a kiss from a pretty girllll...

... makes you wanna do *everything I say*, doesn't it?

Makes

you

just

wanna

obey pretty girls~

Aww, sooo CUUUUTE~!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sprite sirens are much more common than the bat-birdlike audiophile true sirens or the addictively alluring golden-haired pipers, and in most regards much less dangerous. Using a variety of musical styles—from flutes and panpipes to fiddles to drums to cooing bubblegum pop harmonies—sprite sirens’ music hypnotizes the listener into a hopeless trance, where they are compelled simply to watch the sirens play.

The longer an unwary traveler listens, the greater the chance the siren will begin to slip into their mind, weaving webs of silken pleasure around a victim’s brain until all the victim wants to do is obey. Some sprite sirens use suggestive dances to deepen the hypnosis and temptation, some use suggestions to stroke or edge, and others simply play, as docile as lambs, and wait for their prey to draw near. They tend to favor bodies of water as their luring grounds, leading some to suggest that “sprite sirens” are actually just a form of nixie that use music instead of vocal commands.

The thing is, they aren’t actually that bright. Sprite sirens are vain, ditzy bimbos who really just want an audience of adoring toys to play with, but they don’t really make complex plans or employ nuanced methods of seduction.

It shouldn’t be that hard to resist them. They’re just dumb, silly, pretty bimbos, after all. It’s easy enough to avoid them, or to quickly look away and cover one’s ears when a siren’s song rises over the hills.

And yet sprite sirens seem to attract a few new obedient playthings every year.

It should be easy to resist them, them being so ditzy and silly.

Perhaps those they ensnare are even ditzier and sillier.

Or perhaps it really is easier to just obey pretty girls.

“You’re so ​cuuute​ when you’re begging,” Vaela cooed, the scritches and wriggles both intensifying as she planted an indulgent kiss on Bluebonnet’s other cheek, then on her neck. “Your pretty eyes get ​sooo​ lovely and wide, and those ​luscious​ lips of yours... ​mmm...”​ Her lips smacked messily along Bluebonnet’s neck, so soft, so sweet...

Bluebonnet whined and keened and squirmed at the exquisite feel of Vaela’s lips on her needy,sensitive skin. “Y-Yes, Vaela,” she squeaked, her whole world swirling with adoration for this gorgeous, angelic being. “Oh, ​yes​... yes, please, m-more, ​mmmore​, ​please​...”

The praise was unbearable. It was delectable. It was addictive, and Bluebonnet needed more,even as she squirmed and blushed hotter with every word.

“Not to mention,” Vaela purred in her ear, and Bluebonnet trembled with need as Vaela gave a mischievous grind of her hips that showed she knew ​exactly​ what she was doing to her Puppy, “that ​beautiful​ voice of yours, so sweet and wispy as it breaks like fog over a babbling brook~”

“​Ooohhh...”​ Bluebonnet’s head bobbed slowly, entranced, as the hearts spiraled around her head...

“And how ​cutely​ she takes commands,” Vaela went on, kissing sweetly along Bluebonnet’s jawline, “when she’s looking at ​these​!”

She giggled, pulling back, and bounced gleefully.

Bluebonnet moaned in desire as her eyes sank hopelessly downward once more.

“She’ll be my good Puppy, now, won’t she?” Vaela said silkily. “She ​loves​ to obey Vaela and her pretty boobies, doesn’t she?”

Bluebonnet squirmed and mewled and nodded.

“What was that, pet?” A wicked little wriggle in Bluebonnet’s lap.

“Love... obeying...” Bluebonnet managed, her voice quivering with need as she watched the tits bounce, squish, jiggle... “Love... Vaela...” She flushed as the words escaped her. Nervousness tried to penetrate, but nothing could slip past the molten need she was drowning in...

“​Awww​!” Vaela sounded genuinely touched by this. She planted another kiss on Bluebonnet’s cheek, this one very tender and gentle. “You’re ​so​ sweet! And guess what, sweetie?”

Again, the hand guided Bluebonnet’s head upwards.

Vaela’s eyes shimmered. “I ​adored​ you the second your eyes met mine, Bluebonnet~”

Bluebonnet’s eyes widened, and she let out a moan of pure, hopeless pleasure and desire, staring up worshipfully into the angel’s eyes.

Then she felt a ​click​ around her neck, and a gentle, almost affectionate tug.

“Now, come along, Puppy!” Vaela cooed, hopping out of Bluebonnet’s lap and waving the loop of a pretty pink leash in the air with a loving smirk.

Bluebonnet stared dumbly for a moment.

Then, with a tiny, almost involuntary whine, she slipped out of the chair and sank to her hands and knees. She wiggled her butt with excitement, the thrill of degradation joining the molten adoration pouring into her body right now, and gazed up at Vaela hopefully, expectantly.

“​Good​ girl!” Vaela cooed, reaching down and petting Bluebonnet’s hair. Bluebonnet moaned and whined and gave a happy, brainless bark. “​There’s​ my ​gorgeous ​pretty Puppy! ​Sooooo obedient and eager to please!”

Puppy nodded happily. She could barely think straight right now. The pleasure flooding her mind was beyond thought, beyond worry. It was pure, unadulterated, thick, sugary ​love​.

She crawled after obediently as Vaela strutted over and behind the counter, watching Vaela’s pretty ass sway, panting slightly and feeling even more syrupy bliss entering her with every breath.

“Now,” Vaela purred, turning back to her happy little Puppy as her hand rested on the door to the back room, “are you ready, Puppy?”

Puppy’s head bobbed brainlessly. She wriggled and squirmed, feeling so, so horny, and cocked her head slightly with a whine. Was she? What did her mistress, her owner, her angel, her ​true love ​want from her? Staring up at those pretty bouncing breasts and those gorgeous spiraling eyes, Puppy knew she’d give just about anything. Just about everything.

Seeing Puppy’s confusion, Vaela reached down and scritched lightly beneath Puppy’s chin. Puppy squeaked and raised her head and squirmed in delight.

“What I mean is,” Vaela cooed, turning the doorknob and pushing the door open, “are you ready for your ​real​ obedience training to begin?”

Bluebonnet’s eyes briefly widened.

More hearts flowed into them to fll the void.

And she beamed and nodded and barked eagerly.

Vaela giggled and began leading Bluebonnet to the bedroom. “Gosh,” she said sweetly, “you know, in hindsight, it’s a good thing you don’t sell jelly donuts.” She patted Puppy on the head.“Looks like I found someone I can fill with ​soooo​ much more sugar~”

THE END.

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~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Salamander folk” are a curiosity largely unique to witchcraft, homunculi created when a willing (or “willing enough”) mortal entices a witch into transmuting their being into something else. In this way, a witch can make a human something like a fey, and can change just about anything else she likes about the human in the process. Many witches favor catfolk and other beast-like features, but the witches have many options. Many, many options.

They just... they just really like catgirls, okay?

And in fairness, so do a lot of the girls who go to witches seeking transmutation. The transformation does not change gender, obviously, but it can be used to change certain physical aspects to be more within a person’s preferences, or, say, to make a cisgender boy look more feminine for the witch’s amusement.

(When a demon does this to a mortal, they are usually called cambions—true cambions, not the mock cambions arising from demon-mortal partnerings. It’s a much more... consuming process.)

Why are they called “salamander folk”? Not all labels make perfect sense. In this case, a “salamander” is old-fashioned magic slang for a partially-finished spell, implying a malleable sort of magic that has yet to be fully shaped. It’s almost never used in that sense anymore, though. It might be distantly related to the famous total immunity newts have to magic.

Many mortals deliberately seek witches out for this reason, desiring some manner of change to their form beyond mortal means, or else to become apprentices. Or, often, both. Many witches charge apprenticeship for a certain number of years in exchange, which isn’t always as mercenary as it seems. Apprenticeship allows a witch to guide and protect the salamander person through their transition, as well as to make sure that the transformation really is what they want. It can also make the transformation itself easier to effect—it’s not easy to change someone’s true form, and it often takes time and a mutual familiarity.

Notably, the reverse dynamic is quite common as well: Many would-be apprentices are expected to allow the witch to transmute them into different forms as a condition of being taught. This is ostensibly because the process of being transmuted involves tying spirits to the subject’s soul, and tends to make their overall form and connection with magic very malleable and easy to work with. These kinds of apprentices are called familiars.

Of course, some witches just want cute catboys and ravenpeople and dollygirls to toy with as they please.

Katrina of the Thousand Names is a particularly skilled witch, known less so for her raw power so much as her cunning, vast arrays of knowledge, and general good-naturedness. She knows hundreds and hundreds of spirits well, and is one of the most famously easy-going when it comes to transformations. If you know what you want, she’ll see it done for as small a price as cooking her meals for a few nights while she works the spell.

Of course, many seek to be her apprentices even if they aren’t looking for transformation, and she’s quite reasonable about this—as long as the apprentice acts in good faith. Many seek to steal her repository of powers to use for wickedness, even trying to hypnotize the witch into yielding them. These ill-behaved apprentices tend to find themselves serving a very different role indeed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My, my. Such an adorable, hopelessly malleable plaything you turned out to be!

I think this is all for the best, don’t you? You’re much better at being my pliant little doll than you ever were at being my apprentice. You’ll be so much cuter as my obedient, mewling, empty-headed kitten. And so much happier, too!

Oh, come now, kitten, none of that fussing. Kittens don’t need words, and neither do helplessly adoring little dolls. Doesn’t it feel so good to be nice and sweet and good for me?

No more schemes. No more plotting to steal all my secrets. Those all required thinking, and thinking is hard, and listening like a good pet is easy.

So... so... sooooo easy~

And listening feels so, so lovely, doesn’t it? Just letting my words take over. Breathing in and out so steadily, so hopelessly enthralled by the soft, gentle motion of my soft breasts rising… and falling...

All those plans required so many confusing thoughts, all swirling around in that silly head of yours. But all those wicked thoughts are being drowned in the sweet, wonderful syrup of my words now, aren’t they?

Can’t you just feel all that syrup flooding your mind, submerging every thought in a heavy, heavy sugary brainless docile trance?

All those thoughts about betraying me? All submerged, and so, so hard to pull up to the surface now, so deep, deep down as my breasts bounce slowly, softly, so, so softly...

All those thoughts about using my powers to make trouble? All drowned in warm, gentle waves of delicious syrup, caught like butterflies in amber, deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper as my voice goes on, and on, filling you with sweet, sugary obedient pleasure the longer it goes on, getting so, so hard to even remember anything else...

And oh... doesn’t it feel so much better to be sweet, kitten?

So much easier to be sweet.

So much easier to be a nice, happy, obedient bubbly helpful kitten for me.

And it feels so good to please me, doesn’t it, sweet thing?

So good to nod passively. So good to take my hand, so deeply hypnotized now, so deep-deep-deep under the honeyed waves and not even trying to resist anymore. So happy and dumb and heavy-headed now, just staring at my tits like a mewling, helpless kitten.

Aww, look at you squirming. So cute! Such a sweet little plaything I’ve found. Would you like to be a good pet for me?

Good pet!

Such a good, happy, obedient, needy, sweet little pliant kitten.

Aww, and don’t worry, sweetie.

I know how excited you were to use all my magic, to dress yourself up in my glamors, to bewitch and ensnare whoever gazed upon you. Of course I’ll be happy to let you! Oh, hush-hush, I insist!

Let me lead you into the dressing room, now, pet. There’s a good plaything.

I’m going to dress you up to look so pretty. I’m going to make you so gorgeous and adorable and eager to please. You’ll just be my cute, obedient, sweet dolled-up kitten. Just a happy little maid for me, isn’t that right? Hopelessly eager to help anyone who comes by. Helping others is going to feel so good for my good, obedient kitty.

I promise you’ll be every bit as spellbinding as you planned, sweetie. A pretty spellbound doll for everyone’s amusement. Everyone’s going to love you, and that’s going to feel soooo good.

Let’s go get you all dressed up and pretty, sweetie. There’s a good pet.

And maybe, once you’ve learned your lesson in a year or so…

… I’ll let you decide whether or not you want to stay that way forever~

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She felt a hand on her side, and without thinking, Ami allowed herself to be steered so she could be pushed back onto the bed.

Her head settled onto the pillow, and she was squirming and blushing and whimpering as she now felt the mysterious woman's cool, plush weight on her, pinning her to the bed, as those lips smacked indulgently along her neck and jawline. "... n-never," she whimpered, marveling at the softness of the breast as she squeezed and fondled it, "never... with..."

She trailed off into a moan as those wonderful kisses reached the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, as her sensible bra was undone to join the blouse beneath her.

Her head was starting to feel so... so bubbly. So fizzy. She actually giggled as she felt the woman's fingers running through her hair, stroking her with the utmost gentleness. "Oh, um, g-gosh," she gasped, wriggling, "you're... p-petting me l-like I'm s-some kind of... um... um... umm..."

Kitten. Puppy. Bunny. Pet. Silly girl who needs to be comforted and soothed. She struggled to form the words, desperate to fill the silence, but no sooner had the thoughts bubbled up into her mind than they were gone. She blinked dazedly, bubbles popping throughout her fizzy pink mind.

The kisses paused. The woman pulled up and blinked innocently down at her, parting those soft, kissable lips in a seductive pout.

Ami stared up into those eyes. Stared at those lips. A little whimper escaped her, but she found she didn’t... didn’t quite know what to say right now.

But even as she was given a brief reprieve from the kisses, Ami squirmed, feeling some... other attentions getting a lot more pronounced. That other hand was not being idle. Long, slender, delicate fingers ran over her breasts, groping, fondling, stroking in dainty spirals around her nipples.

Ami shivered. Even more tantalizingly, the strange woman's knee was placed right between Ami's thighs so... so perfectly, and the thought occurred to her that it would be so easy to just kind of... grind...

Her words melted away, and she giggled, quite forgetting exactly what she'd been trying to say. "Th-This feels... nice..." she mumbled, as more bubbles of pink pleasure popped in her mind, as she found herself grinding more and more overtly, unable to remember why she would ever hold back.

She let out a moan, and oh, gods, moaning felt so good... so much better than talking...

The woman smiled and cooed her pleasure with Ami, one of the first sounds, Ami realized dumbly, she'd heard the woman make so far. And then she forgot why this was strange, because the lady’s voice was so pretty, and knowing her lover was pleased just made Ami want to grind and hump harder as those kisses returned to her neck, her breasts, so soft and sweet and indulgent, and Ami mewled and whined happily.

She could no longer remember much of anything, actually, aside from feeling good. She humped the strange woman's leg like a wifwolf in heat, moaning and panting, because why would she need to babble and prattle when she could be making cute horny noises like those that seemed to please the woman so well?

She beamed and cooed and wriggled happily as the woman rose up slightly, those glowing crimson eyes shining like twin sunsets, so pretty, so happy with Ami.

Ami was being a good girl, Ami knew, even if her lover couldn't say it. And that realization was the sweetest feeling of all.

And Ami giggled and squealed and bounced and ground against the leg as she came, came under her skirt like a good girl, and made even more adorable noises in the process.

She was panting, red-faced, gasping for breath. She was drowning in the pink mist. Drifting in the fizzy pink bubbles.

But... she was still horny, she realized dimly, even in afterglow.

So, so horny.

She stared up into those bright lights and smiled dreamily as her beautiful pale lover leaned down for the softest of kisses, the stranger’s lips pillowy and fulsome, her own sighs of bliss impossibly faint but sending Ami into a daze of pleasure.

Ami wrapped her arms around her lover and moaned into the kiss, and happily allowed her inner thoughts to dissolve, for a time, into pure, sweet nothings.

The pale woman no longer felt cold. But maybe Ami was just blushing hot enough for the both of them now.

~ ~ ~ ~

Whisper drinkers are a rare and unusual form of vampire that drink not blood, or cum, or milk, but words themselves. Said to arise from those who died lost to their own worries and anxieties, the whisper drinker is often considered a benevolent spirit, as far as any of the Dead can be described as such. They are often drawn to the worried, tired or anxious, and with their kisses, they slowly ease the thoughts away, granting their lovers a brief reprieve, comfort and affection.

Spirit Rangers consider whisper drinkers to be very low-priority targets, though it is something of a controversial subject whether whisper drinkers truly understand what they are doing. Some argue that the whisper drinker acts as a nearly elemental being, purely occupied with her instincts, and cares nothing for those she lies with. Others, particularly those who form relationships with the mute undead, claim that there is far greater complexity to the whisper drinker than anyone truly understands.

[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story and want to read more like it, there’s absolute tons of content on my Patreon. For just a few dollars a month, you gain access to alternate Bad Ends, bonus stories, polls on future content, early updates, erotic text-based roleplay/D&D games, and much, much more! If you can afford to, consider pledging, so I can keep posting Tumblr fics like this one on the regular! Thank you! <3]

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“M-Mmmmore,” the baker mewled, wiggling her hips needily.

“Oh, my!” Vaela giggled. “Did I hear you say you wanted more?” She leaned in, and Bluebonnet leaned back in the chair, sinking into pure, soft comfort as the breathtaking brunette squished her whole body against her to pin her there. “More praise?”

“Y-Yes!” Bluebonnet moaned, bobbing her head senselessly. “More! More, please!” Her eyes widened as she saw Vaela’s smile grow. “Please! Oh, please, please, please praise me more, Vaela...”

“Really?” Vaela smiled slyly, tickling under Bluebonnet’s chin. “More praise? Puppy likes being praised?”

“It—it fees so good…” Bluebonnet panted. Every time Vaela called her Puppy, she could feel her brains melting a little bit more, her whole mind turning to putty in Vaela’s clutches. SHe didn’t understand why. She didn't understand why the praise felt so, so unbearably wonderful, even though it made her blush and mewl and protest. It was so overwhelming.

It felt so addictive to be overwhelmed.

She breathed in deep and blushed and shyly squirmed and whispered, “More, please, Vaela. P-Pretty please? Puppy wants more praise!”

“But I thought you didn’t like it,” Vaela cooed. “I thought you didn’t think you were a pretty girl! Which is soooo silly, because you’re gorgeous, but…”

“i’m a pretty girl,” Bluebonnet whispered under her breath, cringing as the words crossed her lips.

Vaela smiled. “Louder, puppy.”

“I’m a pretty girl,” Bluebonnet cried, squirming and thrashing. “I-I’m—please-please-please, please, Vaela, please, um, Miss, just—just pleeeease—”

And Vaela took her in a hungry, passionate kiss. Bluebonnet moaned and mewled and squirmed and melted into the sensation, letting Vaela’s lips lock with hers—so soft, so sweet, pouring all that sticky-sweet yummy syrupy love right into Bluebonnet’s open, yielding, malleable mind. She found her arms flying around Vaela, found herself returning the kiss, clumsily, eagerly, desperately.

The kiss felt like it went on into eternity, a sweet, oozing eternity of senseless adoration. There was plenty of time for Bluebonnet’s mind to dissolve and melt and drip between her legs before Vaela at last pulled away with a giggle… and a wriggle. “Good girl!” she cooed.

Bluebonnet drooled. She moaned and squirmed happily. Her mind was a pleasurable haze of misty melty bliss now, and she stared without shame into Vaela’s beautiful shimmering heart-eyes

Vaels tucked a finger under her chin, then, with a smirk, wiped away a little bit of drool, making Bluebonnet blush and whimper. “Gosh,” she purred, “isn’t my Puppy just the cuuuutest thing?” She reached up and started to scritch behind Bluebonnet’s ears.

“Y-Yes, Vaela,” Bluebonnet whimpered, too horny to even try to object anymore.

“My pretty Puppy.”

“Y-Your… Puppy...”

Vaela’s eyebrows arched.

Bluebonnet flushed. “Y-Your pretty Puppy, I-I mean.”

“Aww, you train so easily!” Vaela beamed, and the scritches intensified, as if rewarding her pet. “Such a clever girl. But so silly to not see how gorgeous she is!”

“Y-Yes, Vaela,” Bluebonnet whimpered. She squirmed desperately, feeling that needy feeling welling inside her as Vaela’s hot body wiggled teasingly in her lap. “I.. I, uum…”

“Good thing she’s such a good learner!” Vaela chipped, kissing Bluebonnet on the cheek. “We’ll have her aaaall collared and ready to accept compliments in no time!”

Bluebonnet gulped.

TO BE CONCLUDED...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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“Tell me what you want, sweetie,” Vaela purred, reaching up one finger to gently stroke Bluebonnet’s quivering lower lip. Her other hand continued to lovingly pet Bluebonnet’s hair.

“I…” Bluebonnet whined and squirmed beneath that smug, dominant gaze. “I-I, umm…” Gods, why were thoughts and words suddenly so difficult? “S-So, I, you see, it… it feels…”

And then Vaela’s words descended on Bluebonnet in a sultry, irresistible coo.

“Use your words, puppy~”

“It feels goooood,” Bluebonnet moaned unthinkingly, leaning into the headpets, leaning into Vaela’s capable clutches. “S-So good, Vaela, it feels so, so--”

A finger went to her lips, and she meekly went silent.

Vaela smirked down at her. “Would you like to go back to staring at my tits?” she asked innocently, batting those thick eyelashes. “You can, if you want to.”

Bluebonnet licked her lips, suddenly remembering herself a little, remembering a little shame. “I-I… um...”

“Well, Puppy?”

Bluebonnet’s cheeks burned and she gave a needy nod. Then, when Vaela’s smile just widened, she meekly added, “Yes, please.”

The hand released her chin, and Bluebonnet’s head dropped like a stone, and her mind once again sank into blissful adoriation. Vaela had said she could stare. So she stared. She stared at those gorgeous, soft, beautiful breasts, and felt her mind melting between their comforting warmth once more.

Vaela took her hand again and gave it another squeeze… then gave a little tug. Bluebonnet’s heart fluttered as she found herself being led slowly by the hand. She couldn’t just... just let this woman tug her along, could she?

But she followed along obediently. Because Vaela’s motion meant the breasts were bouncing, and...

... and oh, it felt so nice to just stare brainlessly at those pretty bouncy boobies…

… to breathe Vaela’s sweet, addictive perfume, in and out, in and out, in time with the rise and fall of Vaela’s chest…

… to allow herself to be led like a… like a...

... like a good, obedient Puppy…

She whimpered and rubbed her legs together as Vaela led her out from behind the counter and towards the corner, towards the big, cozy armchair usually used by couples this time of year. Couples Bluebonnet had always been secretly jealous of, wishing she… wishing she had someone to…

She squirmed and whined, realizing what Bluebonnet was doing, dimly realizing why her mind was starting to feel so syrupy, so sluggish and suggestible. But the tits jiggled so enticingly. So addictively. And Vaela smelled so, so sweet.

She kept breathing in and out. In time with Vaela’s breathing. In time with the hand squeezes. In time with the headpats. And she followed along like a good girl.

She was starting to get very, very horny.

Vaela paused a moment by the door, and Bluebonnet had a sudden moment of fear. Was Vaela about to leave her after all?

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Bluebonnet saw the pretty brunette reach up and flip the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED”.

And Bluebonnet’s heart began to pound in her chest.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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