This story features nc hypno, ace (no sex) femsub/femdom, and, perhaps, an overabundance of roses. As if there
is
any such
thing
. :P
Disclaimer: Real-world consensual nonconsent play requires deep trust and a lot of care, but we skip over that for the sake of the story. The fantasy of hypnotic nonconsent we play with in this story is just that: A fantasy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Volunteers were
probably
Lilra's favorite little discovery to make while gardening.
That said, she wasn't quite sure what to make of these.
They were something like roses, the botanist decided, biting her lip as she delicately felt the stem. Thornless, it seemed, or at least the thorns weren't strong enough to do more than tickle anything tougher than a caterpillar. Carefully, knowing the perils of unknown plants, she took a sniff. Very fragrant, and they certainly
smelled
like roses—exceptionally sweet ones, at that—but their complex inflorescence reminded her more of something like marigolds, bachelor's buttons or dandelions.
Lilra felt a little self-conscious as she looked around, making sure there was nobody nearby before she dropped to her knees in the mud. She wasn't sure why she always checked. Nobody ever came up to her little cottage—a sick villager, sometimes, but usually the village folk just took their problems to the alewife up the road, who didn't live quite so perilously close to the Evergreen Forest's borders.
Herbalists, brewers and Rangers were in high demand from just about all corners—the villagers always needed their help and the creatures of the forest tended to view them as 'fun challenges'. Nobody really bothered a botanist—not a lot to gain, practically speaking.
This hadn't stopped the random fey from paying her a visit over the years—dryads, satyrs, fauns, even a few nymphs at one point. The fey were gorgeous, salacious creatures, if you were in to that sort of thing. Lilra wasn't, really. Fey were always charming company, and they found her quite easy to fluster most of the time... but when the 'hypnotic breasts' and 'mindmelting pleasure' and that sort of silliness came out of the bag, they always quickly found her a fairly unimpressed receptacle.
She was just too strong-willed for them, frankly, though she didn't like to boast about that. A couple particular Toxin Rangers were still a little prickly about how easily she'd resisted the same nymphs that had turned them into mewling boytoys in minutes.
Overall, she had come to prefer the privacy. This way, there was less chance of someone making fun of her for silly things like dropping to her hands and knees and getting her clothes muddy just to look at some interesting new flowers.
But these
were
interesting. She wrinkled her cute freckled duchess nose as she gave another cautious sniff, and was rewarded with a little waft of dizziness.
Mild witched pollen,
she mentally noted, and allowed one last small sniff. Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she actually felt a little bit dazed for a moment.
Make that moderate-to-powerful.
Her cheeks flushed as she pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
Careful.
The sweet, distinctly rosy scent was deceptively addictive; too many breaths of that pollen, and she'd be flying on clouds the same color as these flowers.
That
color
. The colors, actually. The petals cycled through brilliant mixes of red and pink, forming a gradient so delicate it might as well have been a painted sunset.
She paused and looked around. She was still alone. Only jays, juncos and the odd robin could be seen hopping about, pecking at the numerous colorful bird feeders she'd added to the trees around her cottage over the years.
Keeping her breaths shallow, she turned back and leaned forward to give the stem a curious little lick. A mild bitterness greeted her tongue, and she relaxed her shoulders, realizing how tense she'd gotten.
Mundane hypnotic plants tended to only produce hypnotic pollen,
or
mind-melting sap,
or
dazzling petals,
or
animated tickling roots, and so on. Magicked hypnotic plants engineered by nymphs or mages tended to produce all of the above and then some. The sap tasted mundane.
She hadn't been
too
worried, of course. She leaned away from this formerly empty flowerbed, rising up to her knees and surveying the scene. She had hoped to plant some honeysuckle in there, to help out the hummingbirds. She had intended to pull the volunteer plant out a few weeks ago, when it was just a shoot. But now that it was blooming, and it was some sort of flower she didn't recognize... a
hypnotic
flower, at that...
She bit her lip. Lilra couldn't quite tell if it would be more responsible to keep the potential discovery or to... well, remove a potential
temptation
.
Not that she was tempted. Lilra had plenty of hypnotic plants in this little garden, she told herself, frowning slightly. She'd never once sampled any of them. She'd never succumbed to the... to the temptation that did
not
exist, she told herself, feeling her cheeks heating up a little bit.
"You know, I'll bet your cheeks can match them if you
really
put your mind to it, darling."
Lilra jerked fully upright so suddenly she almost fell right on her back. She whirled around, struggling to her feet, heart kicking into a racing beat. "Wh—where did—"
Leaning against her old patina-green fence gate was a strikingly lovely young woman who did
not
, Lilra was instantly positive, hail from the little village. In fact, Lilra was momentarily speechless with the realization of how certain she was. She was... she was far too pretty, for one thing.
Far
too pretty. Lilra had done her share of blushing and stuttering when addressed by pretty village girls, but if the village girls had been as gorgeous as this woman, with her unusually pale burnt sienna skin, brilliant crimson locks bouncing down her cute heart-shaped face, rosy valentine dimples, big bright green eyes, thick lashes and breathtaking smile, Lilra was pretty sure she would have burst into flames years ago.
For another thing, she was simply... far, far too
classy
.
Lilra had never seen a woman of great wealth or status out here, so far into the wild lands near the Evergreen Forest. She'd heard stories of the fanciful ladies and lords and nobles of Nyaska, of the Honeycomb Courts, of Silverspring, but she'd never heard of anyone like that having any reason in the world to come here. It boggled her mind to even imagine a prissy noblewoman or spoiled princess setting foot in the mud and dust of a village like this one, much less coming anywhere near a grubby cottage like this one, with its muddy, crumbling stepping stone path or its dull, uninteresting owner...
Lilra cut back the thought, biting her lip. Anyways, she had never seen a woman of much standing, and now she was certain she had. What else could explain the way this woman positively sparkled in the sunlight, or the way this woman's lips were such a beautiful, striking shade of rose red, as if she had dozens of handmaidens to see to her every need? Her pretty heart-shaped face was framed by a delicate-looking paper parasol behind her head, the kind of dainty thing that would break if you breathed on it but was worth more than your final breath, decorated with pretty little red briar rose designs.
The botanist had no idea what to think of this woman, who's eyes sparkled with heavy-lidded disdain, as if she was used to seeing common things, perpetually disappointed in a world that had nothing as rich and distinguished as herself. Even the fey who had visited her before couldn't compare to this woman's... poise, the command that her posture and eyes radiated.
Lilra again cut off the thought, and realized she was staring. "H-Hi," she mumbled uncertainly, straightening. She tried not to ogle the woman's clothing, a gorgeous pale sky blue dress that flowed down her lithe body like spilling water and seafoam. It was further decorated with numerous little glittering precious stones, any one of which was surely worth more than every item in Lilra's rustic little cottage. And her immaculately-styled hair, it—
She tried to collect herself. "Um, I'm very sorry... can I help you, Miss...?"
"Gallica will do," the woman said, her voice and accent dripping with sophistication, as if sparing even a single syllable for a commoner like Lilra was a great gift, a mighty act of generosity—though, judging by the slight smile crossing those ruby-red lips, not one she seemed to resent one bit. The botanist felt herself flush.
"
Miss
Gallica, that is," the woman added. "And a good afternoon to you,
blossom
." She twirled her parasol behind her with a demure smile. "Who might you be?"
"Um..." Lilra glanced around her. She couldn't shake the sense that surely this woman had to be talking to someone else, that surely this woman wasn't talking to her. But she swallowed and gave a big, confident smile. "My name's Lilra, ma'am," she said, affecting an awkward curtsy—her plain skirt, still muddy from her little exploration, caught under a foot, and she almost stumbled.
