Note: This story contains elements of domination, drugged/mind controlled nonconsent, lesbian sex, and gangsters.
"There is no need for them to remember any of it," Pellesise said, chuckling. The elf took a little puff from the hookah pipe and passed it on. "What putty in our claws. Humans!"
"Aw, what a shame." Illetris gave a half-joking pout. "I was hoping Her Wisdom would be willing to let me keep him."
"Really?" Isamine giggled. The youngest of the three elves tossed her braided blonde pigtails back, showing off her long, pointed ears—one of which was visibly red, as if someone had been nibbling on it particularly fiercely. "The human man? He didn't seem like much. That 'Larya' girly—oh, she knew how to
tumble
. What's so special about Stocky?"
The three elven prostitutes were gathered in one of the Celestian apartments. The apartment was, like most elven homes, lavishly decorated well beyond any of their means, with tapestries, fine carpeting, and one very big, very soft bed. Illetris took a little puff from the hookah and closed her eyes, letting the Gancanagh smoke do its work. She smiled faintly. "He has a ... rugged sort of charm to him, I suppose."
"A rugged charm!" Pellesise fanned herself with one hand, only half-joking. "They're so
rough
, these humans. I'd swear he kept thrusting into you for
ten minutes
after we finished with him."
"And wasn't it a delight?" Illetris smirked and passed the hookah on to Isamine. "Watching his will crumble. You gotta love the smoke."
"Mm-hm!" Isamine took the hookah and took a deep puff. Illetris and Pellesise exchanged knowing looks as they watched the petite blonde struggle. She coughed for a moment before recovering. "Mm-hm!" she managed.
"You doing okay there, Izzy?" Illetris asked teasingly.
"Mm-hm!" 'Izzy' said again, but it was more of a murmur this time. She passed the hookah to Pellesise. Pellesise paused a moment, then, without inhaling, passed it on to Illetris. Illetris passed it right back to Isamine.
Isamine frowned, blinking heavily-lidded eyes at the proffered pipe. Her mind was clearly trying to decide whether or not the hookah had come back to her suspiciously quickly this time. But she'd already taken a few breaths of the smoke, and her low tolerance was legendary. She giggled again and took another puff. Again, it was deeper than it needed to be.
"So you do think they'll wipe the minds, do you?" Illetris asked. "A pity. I was looking forward to training my new
pet
." She reached over and caressed Isamine's shoulder, letting her hand creep under Isamine's shirt to touch bare skin. She knew Isamine wouldn't object. If she was too dazed to object to her much-hated nickname...
"Well, that'll be up to Cellesixe," Pellesise said with a shrug. She passed the hookah without use over to Illetris, who, after a moment, passed it to Isamine again. Isamine stared blearily at the hookah, then up at her two roommates, who just nodded and smiled encouragingly. "But I can't see why she wouldn't. The Family doesn't care for random outsiders coming around and asking questions without invitations, do they? I mean, unless she has a
use
for them ..."
They both watched, sharklike, as the hapless Isamine took another deep puff. Her eyelids were fluttering now. Isamine coughed, then leaned over to rest her head on Illetris's shoulder. Illetris let her hand start to roam down towards Isamine's chest, sharing a knowing grin with Pellesise. "And after
this
," she said, nodding to their increasingly drowsy roommate, "I suppose we should go see to that fitting."
"Mm?" Isamine swallowed, looking between them with much evident nervousness and no evident energy to act on it.
"Merchant, right? Didn't pay his dues?"
"Honey shoes."
"Mm." Isamine shook her head dimly as Pellesise pushed the hookah towards her. "No, I'm ..."
"Go on, Isamine," Illetris cooed, letting her smooth fingers graze over Isamine's pert nipples. "We're your friends, remember? Just one more
puff
."
Isamine shook her head again, but with less conviction, and when the hookah was offered again, she relented. She took a long, deep pull, and giggled, her voice a bit higher-pitched now. The unease was gone. "Honey shoes. I love . . . fitting them."
"And we love what you love," Illetris hissed. She brought her fingers to delicately tickle one nipple. "So, Izzy . . ."
"Mmm." Isamine looked up at her, red-rimmed eyes full of lust. There was a vague understanding of her predicament, perhaps even a faint memory that this was not the first time she'd been played like this, but that only made it all the more delicious for her captors.
"Do you love this?" Pellesise asked, almost mockingly, as she stroked a hand up Isamine's thigh, pushing up the younger elf's skirt for easy access.
They watched Izzy's eyes widen, and watched her start to slowly whisper her answer.
There were few true loyalties within the Celestial family. Just alliances that lasted until one party showed weakness—or, in Izzy's case, servitude that the servant mistook for alliance. This was not the first time she had fallen afoul of the smoke.
There was no need for Isamine to remember any of this.
~~~~
Larya awoke to find her hands and feet bound and her naked ass seated directly on the lap of an elf man who had recently been licking her to orgasm.
They were sitting on a comfy chair in what looked like a rather nice study. Nearby was an unoccupied desk.
"Good morning," said the elf pleasantly. She stared at his silver eyes with wearied wariness. "I hope you, er, slept alright. All things considered." He gave a sly wink.
"Uh—um." She stared at him, her mouth dry. She was bound. Naked. Her long dark hair was sweaty and tangled. The elf was wearing a dark suit, and his long dark hair was done up in elaborate braids that highlighted his pointed ears. He was quite muscular, she could tell, and his bulge was easy to feel through his pants. He had every advantage. Including the fact that she was still very, very horny.
"Sorry about the mummery prior," he said. "Her Wisdom said you were important clients who liked it, er, tricky. Only explained the full story after."
"What?"
He squirmed for a moment, to her intense discomfort (and repressed delight), then sighed. "Name's Cellemin. Nephew of Cellesixe. We thought you were clients." He held up a hand. "Don't get me wrong. If Cellesixe tells me to jump, I say how high. But don't mean I've got to like it. I usually stay on the pleasant side of the family business."
She stared at him. Nothing here made much sense. "You're . . . you and the woman—"
"Isamine." He nodded. "Sweet thing. Bit trusting, of course, but that just makes her sweeter. Too good for the likes of us. Then again, most everyone is." He poked her bare shoulder. "Yourself included, druidess."
"You two seduced me. For Cellesixe."
He shrugged. "I'm not supposed to talk about it. Suffice to say—" He stopped as Larya heard a door slam from nearby. She heard footsteps pass by the study's door, but they continued on past. "Well, suffice to say she has you and that scruffy guy right where she wants you."
"Great." Larya grimaced.
"Hey." He jabbed her again. "It was nice, right? Never met a human with your . . . hunger. You enjoyed it. And at least we didn't have to drug you, like we did Scruffy."
"You drugged Scruffy? I mean, Snatch?" Larya blinked.
"Oh, yeah. Nasty business." Cellemin's was the sort of laugh Larya guessed he might give about a dog dying: Brisk and genuine, but sharp, dredged out only for an alternative to darker emotions. "But so's killing people, so, I mean, he got off easy. Point is, Miss,
you
had fun. That's all that matters."
"Really?" She rolled her eyes. "Because if I'm due for a honey fitting—"
He winced. "Hm."
She stopped short. "What?"
"Just . . ." Cellemin squirmed again, clearly uncomfortable. "Thinking about you getting a honey fitting . . . kinda gets you wet, don't it?"
Larya felt her face grow hot. She stared into his gray eyes. They reminded her of pebbles by the riverbed. Common, unremarkable, but alluring in a strange, pretty way.
"They'll take a couple minutes," he murmured. "I'd, er, kinda like you to pay me back for the job I did on you earlier. I've been hard ever since, and I did work hard with you. 'Course, only if you feel like it. You don't really owe me anything." And then he gave a smile. A smug, insufferable smile that indicated he'd already assumed what her answer would be.
Larya realized she was already sinking out of his lap and to her knees.
He was hard. And big. Bigger than anyone she'd ever taken. She could barely take in his full length, and nearly gagged doing so. But she did take it. Her lips wrapped up along the shaft and almost to the base. She kissed and licked at his long, clean cock, clutching both his knees for support, and sucked him like a cambion street whore.
She couldn't believe she was doing this. Her mind reeled from the contradictions. He was an enemy, a
gangster
, for pity's sake—albeit an oddly amicable one. It wasn't that he wasn't hot. He was fucking gorgeous. But there wasn't any mind control here. It was her choice.
She looked up at Cellemin, her lips locked hungrily around his shaft as though it was a prize to hold onto at any cost. His eyes were tightly shut, and he was whispering words in the convoluted elven tongue under his breath. His speech was slurred; she could positively hear the apostrophes being left off, the accents being unstressed. His fists were clenched.
On impulse, she reached up, took one of his hands, and guided it to her head. His eyes opened, and he stared at her with a wild, almost inhuman hunger.
And then her mind went into a storm of colors and sensation as he began to fuck her face. He pounded into her, wielding her head like a common sex toy, and she loved it. She
