Nicole's Note: This story opens with maledom, but the next chapter will mix things up a little bit. ;)
In the real world, consensual nonconsent requires deep trust, as well as much more setup than the fantasy we play with here bothers with. Keep in mind that it
is
a fantasy. I'm sure the dryads and plantgirls will make that easy enough. ;)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Nevyn knew he shouldn't get carried away showing off his collection. This was a crowded pub, and anything could happen if the door opened at the wrong time and a breeze sent the wrong item up into the air. But it wasn't always easy.
"Oh, my!" The barmaid's blue eyes were as wide as saucers as she bent down to stare at the case's contents. "There are so many
colors
!"
Nevyn suppressed a smile and, with a wise nod, tried not to stare at her tits. Leaning over like that, she didn't make it easy. "Yes, well, one in my line of work does tend to accrue the marked variety, doesn't he?" He plucked up a colorful red lily that seemed to glisten, as if still bearing the morning's dew. "They're magicked to last. Those that I need to, at any rate."
She blinked up at him. She had rather lovely eyes, he had to admit—bottomless blue, the kind you only found in deep oceans or very expensive pigments derived from extinct beetles. "Really? I'd think you'd need 'em all, well, fresh." She bounced on her toes slightly, pigtails bobbing with the motion. Her breasts, bounteous and ill-contained by her tight bodice and low round neckline, were no more still. "As a cunning man."
He smirked. He set the lily back and pulled out a dry, crackled green leaf. "Some of them. Some of them are better dried out."
"Ooh, like herbs!" She nodded, smiling again. "That makes sense. So your magic's like cooking, sort of."
"Sort of," he agreed, chuckling. "I hear that a lot. It's not magic, though. Just knowledge." He set the little leaf back into the case and, with a flourish, closed it back up. "Though the average highwayman won't know the difference. Especially with a puff of battertooth seeds in his face."
She giggled. "Ooh, really?" She took a step closer, batting her eyelashes. "Do you have anything...
meddlesome
in there, then?"
"For a mettlesome maid?" He shrugged, as casually as if dislodging a leaf that had fallen on his slim shoulders. Nevyn wasn't a physically intimidating man, and he enjoyed that, a little; being overlooked by people he didn't care for was a useful skill. He knew his deep steel-blue eyes got him the attention he wanted, when he wanted it. Plus, he'd once escaped from a bounty hunter by slipping his little hands through the restraints, so that was useful enough. "I should think I have a few... more wicked plants." He beamed at her. "But you wouldn't want to see anything of
that
nature. I primarily use such things only in self-defense." This was true. "And
never
for pleasure." This was not.
"Oh, of
course
not." Her voice oozed with sensuality as she took another little step closer, her posture demure, submissive—but in the manner of one who knew such posture would melt most men into putty in her claws. "I can't imagine I would. Why..." She put a hand to her breast in mock shock. "To be made all sleepy and hypnotized? Put under your spell?"
"Not a spell," he said, smirking, as he shouldered the case. But he didn't pull away. The bar was busy, but he didn't mind being a little forward in public. He liked where this was heading—and he was pretty sure he could build on it. "Oh, no mistake, it would be lovely to have magic. But I like my methods." He cupped her chin. "Magic is so... costly. With herbs and spices, it's easier to get in and out."
"In and out!" She giggled. "What a way to put it. You mustn't bring that attitude to the Rose Dawn."
"Is that really tomorrow?" He made a show of looking around, as if he hadn't noticed the pink paper over the windows, the ribbons and paper loop-de-loops of red and white hues hanging from the ceiling lights, flooding the room with a rosy glow. Half the tables were crowded with couples, men and women staring into each other's eyes in helpless adoration. Half the bar's staff were already enjoying some 'holiday time off'. Nobody cared. It was too close to the Rose Dawn to worry about getting drinks on time.
Embarrassing, he couldn't help but think, even if it was cute to see the couple near him—a handsome young fellow and a person with frizzy red hair and bright brown eyes—holding hands and mumbling and stammering like they'd just met. "Goodness! How the months fly."
"Uh-huh." She bit her lip. "It's easy to forget about, I'll bet, when you're so important. No doubt already tied down to someone."
"Oh, to the contrary." He casually strode around the tables, weaving his way to the back area—a part of the inn he could tell was less busy. She was following him, and he grinned inwardly. "Quite unattached, my dear."
"Oh?" This barmaid clearly had a lot of practice squeezing things of great volume into tight spaces, and she fit a lot of emotion and implication into that single syllable.
"Why, yes." He took her hand, running a finger over the back of it with a little half-smile. "But don't get any ideas. I'm very much... wedded to that."
She giggled, allowing him to lead her towards a dark corner. This area of the bar had a lot of quiet, private booths, he noticed, and he had a feeling he knew why. Not all towns celebrated the Rose Dawn as enthusiastically as the village of Rain's Rise. He always liked to come to a town that did this time of year. Everyone was always so romantic, so lovey-dovey, so sentimental.
It made for more of a challenge.
"Wedded, you say?" She kept giggling, and leaned in daringly to kiss him on the cheek. "You know not what you say, m'lord. One can't be wed to such things. Unless..." She pouted. "Is there truly no romance in your heart?"
"Not quite." He settled into the booth. She bounced in next to him, and again, he found his eyes drawn to those jiggling tits. He swallowed. Focus. Work before pleasure. And work
was
pleasure. "I... suppose I enjoy the chase. But to be caught..." He stroked her hair as she wriggled in next to him. So warm and soft. "A delight I must forever deny myself."
"Oh?" She smirked. Her fingers played along her cleavage, and his breath caught as she toyed with the dress's delicate white lace. "That sounds like a simply
awful
kind of self-denial. Is that m'lord's taste?"
He wrapped an arm around her. "Not quite." He kissed her cheek. "But... well, I do enjoy the risk involved."
"Is that why you came to Rain's Rise?" she murmured, wriggling even closer. Her eyes were like twin aurorae, blue light in the dimly-lit booth. Her dimples turned those blue orbs into azure crescent moons. "The
danger
? You should
know
how... romantic the girls of this village can be."
"Well, naturally." He tugged gently on one of her pigtails, and was delighted to see her eyelids flutter, to feel her squirm, to hear her gasp and sigh softly. "I should know. But
you
aren't interested in that, are you?"
