“Are you, ah… really sure we ought to be here?”

Linger glanced back at Fenn, meeting his gaze with piercing orange irises. A smirk flashed across the adventuring burglar’s pretty face. “Oh, this again?”

Fenn fidgeted with his holy symbol. He glanced back down the narrow tunnel they'd entered through; fading sunlight was barely visible from around the corner. “Well, I don't mean to seem ungrateful, miss, but—well—”

“But you're wondering if I know what I'm doing.” Linger smiled sweetly. She—or he, sometimes, but she certainly seemed to be in a she mood at the moment—twirled the lockpicking tool around nimble fingers. “Didn't I just save you from that pretty fae mistress of yours juuust this afternoon?”

Fenn's face heated up. He couldn't quite meet Linger’s gaze, so he studied the floor near Linger's black shoes intently. Linger had a slight build, maybe 5'3”, with a slender torso and generous hips hugged by her practical shirt and trousers. She'd been wearing airy pale blue robes when they'd met—when she’d saved him from the spritelion—but had changed into these nearly skintight clothes upon entering the cool shelter of the desert tomb. Her medium-length black hair complemented the vividness of those nearly-red eyes, pinned back on one side with a golden damselfly pin. Slight freckles dotted the cheeks across a light sunflower-brown complexion.

“I... yes, miss, and I very much appreciated that—”

“You were destined for a life of sweet servitude in her loving arms,” Linger cooed, tongue clicking on every 'l' sound. “I could have left you there. I bet you'd make an adorable, eager little lapkitten, if that's what you'd prefer.”

“I—” Fenn shook his head, squirming. “I'm just saying, a tomb built out of glowpebbles probably isn't a safe place to muck about in!”

“That's why I'm not mucking about.” Linger giggled and turned back to the strange wall puzzle she was tampering with. It seemed to involve sliding blocks around to assemble a pattern, but what kind of pattern Fenn couldn't say. “I'm working as quick as I may, considering all the interruptions. If you'd stop tempting me into teasing you, we'd probably be done by now.”

Fenn bit his lip.

“Besides, it's not built all out of glowpebbles.” Linger took hold of one block and started to carefully slide it into place, as with the other hand she held the lockpicking tool between two others, keeping them apart. “They just lined the exterior. Decoration, that's all. The Shining Spear was probably visible for leagues and leagues back before the sands came for this place.”

Fenn heard a click, and the hall suddenly filled with the tremendous grinding of metal on rusty metal.

Linger smirked and sprang to his feet as the stone wall to his right slid open, carried across a thin strip of iron rail. “Nice-nice-nice! I was worried the hydraulics were out of commission by now.”

Recovering himself a little, Fenn lifted his lantern to peer down the new passage. “Looks like it's going down.”

“Well, duh.” Linger patted Fenn on the shoulder. “C’mon, Fenn. We're already in this deep.” He hunched slightly and hopped down into the passage.

“Are... are you even sure the Crown of Silk is still here, after all this time? That puzzle didn't seem that hard to solve.”

“Oh, Fenn~” Linger flashed Fenn a smirk. “I'm not even sure it exists.”

Fenn's breath left his lungs. But Linger was making his way down into the darkness, and Fenn had no choice but to follow.

Fenn’s lantern wasn't totally necessary. His night vision wasn't much with the lantern right in his face, and even so he could see the odd glowpebble embedded in the walls up ahead, their faint swirling light just enough to help Linger navigate. Still, anyone knew better to rely on glowpebbles alone. Linger was just being reckless to make a point.

“So, um...” Fenn cleared his throat. “The Crown of Silk. Assuming it does exist. You suppose it’s made of glowpebbles, too?”

“Ew, of course not.” Linger rolled her eyes back at him. “Nobody in their right mind would let that many so close to their brain. It's just, you know. Crystal. Or diamond, or whatever.”

“Right.”

As the tunnel's descent began to level out, Fenn drew up short, peering at carvings Fenn could now see lining the walls. Fenn caught glimpses of exagerated feminine forms, of kneeling figures, of beautiful dresses and what looked like people swaddled in blankets.

Aside from the feminine figure in the dress and the figures swaddled in blankets, all the figures present were naked.

“Supposedly,” Linger murmured, tracing her finger along the figure's form towards what might have been a five-pronged diadem, “the Crown granted ‘the gift of the weaver’. Whatever that means.”

He pressed in upon the image of the diadem. To Fenn's shock, the image clicked inward and sank into the wall.

“Wh—”

Linger flashed him a smile. “Too many prongs. The diadem only had three.”

She looked the hallway up and down, then skipped down ten paces.

Fenn stared, perplexed, at the sunken crown. It seemed to be rising back out, slowly rejoining the rest of the relief. “Why did…?”

“Hey, Fenn.”

“Yeah?”

“The trap rearms in five seconds.”

Fenn blinked. His eyes shot to Linger, noting her faint, unreadable smile, then to the floor.

His heart lurched.

Fenn spun and sprung forward, bolting towards the burglar at top speed. His feet pounded against the stone; he could see the faint seams now that he looked, could feel the floor starting to rattle.

His soles were on the edge of the pit when the floor gave way beneath him.

He flailed, lurching towards Linger—

fwwtt

fwwwtt

Fenn felt two delicate impacts from behind. He saw that sticky strings had struck his right arm, his left shoulder. He cried out, feeling himself being yanked backwards—

Linger's hand shot out and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

With emotionless precision, his knife flashed into his hand and made two quick cuts. Fenn felt the strings snap.

The next thing Fenn knew, Linger was pulling him clear of the pit. Fenn didn't dare glance back to see what had been at the bottom of the pit—or if anyone else had fallen down there before.

“Th-Thank—”

“You're welcome.” Linger patted his cheek. She smiled and turned away. “I should've warned you sooner. It's just fun seeing you panic~”

Fenn swallowed, reaching up to touch his sacred symbol. He whispered a small prayer of thanks to Saint Juniper, then added one to Shatterbell, Giver of Gifts and Goddess of Luck, just to be safe.

He almost added a prayer to Corpse, an old favorite of his, but he supposed that the Coffin Nail might not exactly appreciate what they were up to right now. Not to mention the repeated need for rescues. Probably not self-sufficient enough for the god that carved its own coffin.

“Hey.” Linger's voice knocked Fenn out of his thoughts, and he realized the burglar was already moving on. “You coming, or what?”

Fenn swallowed, looking ahead. The glowpebbles still dotted the halls, but darkness was increasingly claiming the tomb the farther in they went.

“I... I just don't know.” Fenn shifted uneasily. “I mean, it's... you know...”

He trailed off, chewing his lip.

Linger’s head tilted.

“Serve yourself!” She winked. “Stay put. I'll be right back with the treasure.”

“If there even is a treasure,” he mumbled.

Linger didn't seem to hear him as she made her way deeper into the dark.

* * *

Linger’s idly hummed tune, one matching the rhythm of her footsteps, was now the only sound drifting down the shadowy halls.

Fenn was cute. But she definitely preferred doing these jobs alone. All the noise made her nervous about getting caught—even here, where the ‘owners’ of the treasure were all long, long dead.

She didn't pay much attention to the carvings on the walls now. The ground felt even beneath her feet, and these reliefs struck her as more the ominous warning kinds of decor than the secret clue kinds. She didn’t care about warnings. She noticed men and women bound and gagged with pale strings, saw the Princess’s apparent playthings pulled on strings like marionettes, but no hints on dangers to come , no secret puzzles to solve.

She smiled, noticing the floor ahead was covered in mystical scrawl.

Now that seemed a little interesting.

She bent down at an almost right angle, finger to her lips, and peered down at the runes. Nothing here looked familiar to her, but she wasn’t much of a hedge mage. Magic was a bit of a weak point for her.

Linger nibbled on his fingertip, then reached into one of the pouches at his belt and drew out a fistful of gray dust.

He puckered his lips and blew it across the runes.

The dust wafted down and settled upon them. To his surprise, it settled in a thin, even coat. No signs of magnetism.

Linger shrugged and straightened. If the Flecks weren't drawn to it, it wasn’t anything physical. She wasn't gonna waste time over it. Not when the tomb was near.

She stepped across the threshhold and made her way down the winding hall.

As she did, she briefly felt a curious pinprickling at the back of her neck. It was like being brushed with a fine-toothed comb. The sensation soon passed, and she tried to dismiss it.

Linger was about ten paces down the hall when the whispers began.

“Good girl.”

“Sweet girl.”

“Good girls get to feel good~”

Linger stopped short. His heart started to race, just briefly. “Wh—”

“Cute boy~”

“Dumb boy~”

“Good boys do what all boys should~”

Linger shook himself slightly. Okay. Just some sort of illusion effect. Sweet little whispers. Maybe… empowered by the glowpebbles? That was... fine.

He kept walking.

“So cuuute~”

“He's trying to ignore us!”

Linger rolled his eyes. It was obviously preprogrammed. As if some rusty old hypnotic spell would get him.

A whisper tickled his left ear. “The Princess will take such good care of you~”

A whisper tickled his right. “Good boys do as Princess says~””

Linger smirked. Obeying a corpse? Cute. Apparently these spells didn't realize they were programmed for a tomb.

Speaking of which... Linger's eyes sparkled as she noticed she was drawing near a large archway. It was studded with glowpebbles, shining like a beacon now that Linger was close.

“You wanna be a good girl for Princess, don't you?”

“A cuuute little kitten in Princess's lap~?”

Now Linger couldn't help but snicker. The image of a burglar making it all this way, just to wind up a dumb little kitten for a sarcophagus... honestly, who programmed these illusions?

There must have once been more to it, he decided, coming to a stop at the archway and giving it a careful inspection. Maybe a visual component. Flashing lights. A bound succubus. Some component that was no longer operational.

That thought did make Linger a little wary. Maybe the second component hadn’t activated yet.

He glanced back, noticing the voices had faded away. Right. Glowpebbles. He remembered hearing that a lot of magic didn't work right around glowpebbles.

Which… meant that if there had been more to the trap, it probably lay behind him.

His confidence returned.

“Maybe the next robber will fall for that,” he called sweetly. “I'll leave the door unlocked for them.”

The spells gave no response, obviously.

Feeling a little foolish, but mostly exceptionally pleased with herself, Linger made her way into the central tomb.

The central tomb was like a shrine to narcissism.

Linger’s eyes flicked upwards. The white silk lamps were clearly filled with glowpebbles. She could tell from the weird pooling behavior of the light, and how some even went without silk covers to show off their elaborate designs directly: glowpebbles surrounded by woven strings of diamonds and pearls.

They illuminated gorgeous tapestries draping the walls like cobwebs, woven of pale blue silk with elaborate indigo designs. Each depicted a different angle of the same beauty—a young woman wearing a brilliant three-pronged diadem. The threads comprising the diadem glistened like silver, causing them to reflect the lights from the silken lamps hanging from above.

The woman in the tapestries was gorgeous. Spellbinding, almost. Her eyes were a brilliant golden brown, with pale fairy freckles dotting the dimpled cheeks just below. Her long black hair cascaded down one shoulder, cut into long bangs that almost covered her eyes, and had just the faintest hint of burgundy. In the wider angles, she wore a sleek red-orange dress trimmed with real gold and emeralds sewn into the fabric. The dress’s neckline was cut very low.

LInger realized he was staring a little too long. it was hard not to. The trunks and vanities that lined the walls were plain by comparison, and even they were draped in silks depicting the same enchanting figure. The eye was clearly meant at every end to be drawn to her. To her piercing gaze, to the sly smile creeping across plump, kissable lips...

The extravagance in pigments alone... Linger licked his lips, trying to calculate how much he could get for even one of those tapestries...

And then Linger registered the sarcophagus.

It was just leaning against the wall towards the back. Compared to the finery that surrounded it, it was plain, with few designs. Just a pattern of swirling pink amethyst shards winding inward.

And three diamonds rising above like a crown.

Linger took a deep breath.

This was it. If the diadem was real, if the Crown of Silks had ever existed at all... this was where it would be. That so much wealth had been left here was perfect proof that no one could have been here before to claim the diadem.

It was hers. As long as it existed.

Linger made her way towards the sarcophagus, trying to control her racing heart, her shallow breathing.

“That’s it.”

Linger licked his lips again as he drew level with the sarcophagus. It towered over him. He reached slowly for the seam.

“Open it~”

“Be a good boy~”

The voices had to be in his imagination. He was only vaguely registering them. His eyes were on those three diamonds, and all that they implied.

“Join us~”

“Joiiin us~”

He was close. So, so close, at long last…

“Oh.” A light, airy giggle jolted him out of his trance. “You know I haven't been in there in years, don’t you?”

Linger spun around, hand snapping away from the sarcophagus as if it had stung him. Gods, what was he doing? Not even checking for traps? Sloppy, sloppy!

This voice wasn't a ghost. Wasn't an illusion.

Or if it was, this illusion was very, very well-crafted.

A woman stood before him.

The woman.

Long flowing white silks as fine as spiderweb snaked around her whole body, caressing her slender bare shoulders, her slender waist, her generous bosom, and drifting through the air behind her ample hips. Fairy freckles seemed to sparkle beneath eyes as bright as a prairie fire.

And upon her head rested a three-pronged diadem of shining crystal.

Linger's breath left her in two words.

“P-Princess Rya.”

The wearer of the Crown of Silk stood before her in the flesh.

For a moment, Linger forgot how to draw new air into her lungs.

The Princess looked her up and down the way someone would inspect a piece of furniture. One flawless eyebrow arched. After a moment, she gave Linger a sparing smile. “Well, aren't you a pretty thing.”

Linger licked his lips. He managed a smile, keeping his eyes carefully on the Princess's forehead. Her eyes were just a little bit too dazzling, and her curves... fuck. “So you must be the ancient Princess.”

“Ancient?” The Princess's fingertips flew to her lips in a dainty giggle. “My, my! Well, I’d like to think I look good for my age, don't I?”

Linger smiled slightly. This could still be an illusion. It wasn’t impossible. Just very unlikely. “Well, I didn't mean that in a bad way, Princess.” He sketched a playfully elaborate bow. “It’s an honor to make your distinguished acquaintance.”

“Of course it is.” Rya smirked. She took a step closer, slightly circling Linger, continuing that thorough inspection. “So you must be here to steal the Crown of Silk, aren’t you?”

No point in denying it. “Guilty, Your Highness.” Linger smiled sweetly. “Mind you, I didn't know its lovely owner would miss it.”

“Oh, really.” Rya’s lashes fluttered. “Well, I didn't know tomb robbers could be so charming. You'd better be careful with that, my dear...?”

“Linger of Greenhill.” Linger clasped his hands innocently behind his back. Gods, her eyes really were spellbinding. Careful. Careful. “And I can’t imagine why I’d need to be careful, Your Highness.”

“Oh, please, call me Princess Rya.”

“Princess.”

“No, Princess Rya will do.” Rya smirked. “Only my pets call me Princess, Linger Greenhill.”

“Princess Rya.” Linger nodded. “Anyways, why should I need to be careful? If a tomb robber is to steal beautiful and charming things from beautiful and charming people, it's only fitting that the robber make herself beautiful and charming to match.” She swung her hips out playfully to one side.

“Mm, I see.” Rya's eyes sparked like a struck flint. She took another sidewinding step closer. “So you wish to present an equally tempting target for plunder.”

Linger kept smiling, even though she could feel her heart flutter. “Yes, well...”

“As you say, it's only fair,” Rya purred, taking another step closer. “A gambler's got to match the ante, hasn't she? And you… more than match it. Such an adorable little outfit.”

Linger licked her lips and took the slightest of shuffles back. She meant it to be subtle, but she could see Rya's eyes flick down to her shifting feet. “Well, Princess Rya, your own ensemble does you... many favors.”

“Oh, does it?” Rya batted her lashes, striking a coquettish pose as she fussed with the wrappings. “I do have so many lovely dresses, but I like to get dressed in the proper, traditional attire to meet my new... guests.”

She'd been planning to say another word. Linger could sense it, and even as Rya moved forward, circling around, he took another step back. “That's... well, that's very kind of you, Princess Rya. I must say, after weeks in the desert, the sight of you is like a glimpse at an oasis.”

Rya smiled. Then the smile slipped slightly. “Desert?”

“And really,” he pressed on, mind racing, “as adorable as I look in my little outfit, Princess Rya, I think you might like me even better outside of it.”

This. This was still wholly doable. He just needed to get Rya off her guard. Seduce her. Get those clothes off, get that crown off her head before she could work any magic with it.

He licked his lips. Get those silks off, let those big tits bounce free... fuck the silly Princess's brains out, take the diadem, and book it.

He could do this.

Actually, he had to suppress a smirk at the thought. This burglary had just gotten a lot more exciting. Rare was the spoiled noblewoman who could resist his charms—a handsome thief like him, quick-witted and nicely-endowed… and of course, if Rya was more into girls, Linger was sure she’d be able to charm the princess just as easily. She’d have this princess wrapped around her finger before sunup.

After a moment, Rya’s smile returned. She licked her lips, taking a step closer. “Oh, I'll bet I would,” she purred, and the syrupy husk to her voice made Linger’s heart pound with desire. “Would you like to take them off for me, Linger, sweetie?” Another step closer. Her voice melted into a sugary syrup. “Would you like to show off for Princess Rya?”

Despite the confidence, Linger felt his cheeks heating up. He had to fight not to squirm in place as he slowly reached to unbuckle his belt. He tried to make his motions sly and seductive, but…

The way Rya admired him didn’t even feel predatory.

She looked amused. Knowing.

As if any plan he could construct was just the cute flailings of a fly already caught in sticky honey.

“I, um...” He managed a cocky smile he didn't quite feel as he started to pull his pants down. Rya took a step closer. He instinctively leaned back. She was almost in arm's reach. “I’d be happy to be... of service, I'm sure~”

His cock twitched as his eyes settled on her massive chest. He bit his lip.

“Oh?” Rya's lashes fluttered. She took another step closer, circling inward, reaching up to give her breasts a generous squeeze. “Will that nice, throbbing girth of yours be at my service soon, pretty thing?”

Linger did squirm now. Her pants were down, and her bulge was impossible to deny. She could smell Rya's perfume here, bittersweet incense and gardenia fragrance, and for some reason, the simple scents had her insides aflutter. She swallowed, taking a half-step back, and smiled sweetly. “Oh, I'm sure you'll find it—”

Rya's hand darted out to Linger’s neck. Linger flinched reflexively at the touch.

“Satisfactory?” Rya purred.

Linger's cheeks went hot. She could feel Rya's fingers tracing along her throat, and something about that touch felt so nice, so delicate, teasing, tingly, and she noticed Rya's crown had started to glow—

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

Linger blinked.

Rya's hand snapped away, and now there was something in her hand that hadn't been there before.

A delicate pale cord.

Linger started at it briefly, uncomprehending. “W-What are you...”

“Kneel,” Rya said sweetly.

Adore.

Obey.

And Rya yanked on the cord, and Linger felt a noose—no, a collar around her neck tighten, and she was involuntarily pulled close.

“Ghk!” The panic of being briefly choked sent Linger's mind into a swirl, and she barely caught herself before being pulled right into Rya's arms. She stared at the Princess, wide-eyed. “I—w-what—”

“Aww, so afraid!” Rya cooed. She held up the leash with a mischievous smile, half-wrapped around one wrist and gripped in the other hand to leave perilously little slack remaining. “No need to be frightened, my little burglar. I'm here to take care of you.”

“I think—” Linger squeaked as the leash drew taut again, pulling him nearer. He blushed and dropped his gaze, leaning forwards to avoid the pressure without stepping forward again. “I-I think this would be,” he managed, “much more, um, fun if—”

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

“Nngh.” He shook himself, blinking rapidly. The words pulsated in his mind, soft as moth wingbeats and sinuous as serpents. “No. I'm... what's...”

“Honestly, I've grown so bored of my old harem,” Rya murmured, reaching to caress his neck again. Her touch felt even better than before, her warm fingertips dancing across his throat like delicate kisses. “They need someone new. New ideas. Wouldn't you like to be so, sooo good for me and help me liven things up a little?”

“I—” With Linger’s head tilted down, his gaze was trapped on those massive breasts, barely covered by the sheer silk wrappings. “I, um—”

“Of course you would,” she gushed, stroking his hair. He whimpered as he felt that hand on the back of his head, as he sensed the subtle expanding of her control. Now he couldn't pull away. Now all he could do was...

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

... stare... admire how the wrappings squeezed her tits together, creating an elegant heart shape from her collarbone down to her massive, enticing cleavage…

“Wouldn't you~?” Rya purred. “My little... cat burglar?”

Linger's heart started to pound. She needed to look away. Why… why couldn't she look away?...

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

“I could take such fine care of you.” Rya's fingers stroked through Linger's hair. Scritched behind her ears. Soft. Soothing. As though Linger were a wild animal being tamed. Domesticated. “Keep you in luxury, adorn you in finery. Help you stay ever-so-beautiful so your heart can keep beating for centuries. Nice and comfy and pretty and warm for the rest of your days.”

“No,” Linger whimpered, even though all of that sounded so nice, and staying close to Princess Rya sounded so good... “I... I, um...”

A gasp escaped him as he felt Rya's hand caress his bulge. He mewled softly.

“Good boy~”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

Linger's thoughts felt funny. Scatttered. She blinked up meekly at Rya, beautiful, powerful, as the other hand held up Linger's leash and she gave a sweet, dazzling smile.

Briefly, an image of this scene as it must look flashed into Linger's mind. Rya standing tall and proud, smirking down at her newest plaything . Linger, bowed over, collared and leashed, squirming as Rya stroked her hair… Linger, staring hopelessly at Rya's big... bouncing...

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

Silks curtains billowed behind Rya in every precious hue, blues and greens and violets that Linger hadn't even know existed in silk. They framed Rya's gorgeous face like a peacock's tail. Linger licked his lips.

“Aww, sweet boy.” Rya cupped his cheek. “Don’t you see? You don't have a choice!”

“I—I do. I can…”

“No, you can’t. You're already getting all cute and hypnotized.”

“I'm.” It took a while for that thought to register. Linger shook his head slightly. “N-No.”

“Yes.”

“I c-can't...” He managed a weak smile, struggling despite it all to recover some of his bravado and look her in the eye. Her eyes sparkled and glowed in the dim light. “Maybe that works on your thralls, but...”

“But?” Rya bounced slowly from heel to toe, still smiling that smug, spoiled bratty smile. Her breasts rose and fell, straining against the wrappings with every bounce.

“But.” Linger stared. How could he help it? They were huge, so round, so soft, and the way they bounced... bounced... “But I, um...”

“But you, um~” She giggled, adjusting her wrappings, pulling them tighter around herself. He could see a nipple tenting the fabric, almost visible through a narrow gap.

“I'm not...”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

“I...”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

Linger's gaze started to rise, then fell back down to Rya's chest. And stayed there for a long moment before she tore her eyes back to Rya's eyes.

“... can't be h-hypnotized,” she whispered.

Rya just kept smiling.

“Yes, you can,” she corrected sweetly.

And the matter-of-fact way she said it made Linger's whole body freeze with fear.

“You can,” the Princess purred, slowly coiling the leash around her hand, pulling Linger closer, closer to her pretty face, those luscious lips, those enormous tits, “because I say you can.”

“N-No.” Linger breathed in shallowly, and her world swirled with white gardenia petals as she stared into Rya's fiery eyes. She had never been flustered like this. Never been talked to with such... unshattering confidence. Never been collared.

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

It was doing something to her. She needed to look away from Rya’s gaze, but Rya seemed so sure Linger wouldn't, and the pressure on her neck reminded her she couldn't. She stared into those beautiful shimmering eyes. They pulsed with magic, no doubt the very magic that kept Rya alive, kept her beautiful, kept her... warm.

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

“I can hypnotize whoever I like,” Rya murmured, “because I'm the Princess, and I get what I want~”

“No.” Linger's word was a whimper as he stared into those eyes, feeling her strange certainty trying to infect his own mind. Rya… knew he could be hypnotized.

No. He swallowed, turning his head to the side. She thought he could be hypnotized. That didn’t make it true. He needed to fight this off, needed to disbelieve it, because… because otherwise…

“And you believe I get what I want,” Rya cooed, caressing his jaw and cupping his cheek, gently guiding him right back to her deep, fiery brown eyes, “because you're a good little kitten who knows his Princess decides for him~”

That, the humiliating pet name, almost snapped Linger out of it. Almost. But the leash had him tight, and the eyes had him captive...

“And since you know it will work...” The Princess’s voice poured around him like liquid gossamer. “... it will.”

“No...”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

“I w-won't...”

The silks swirling behind her had become a blurry whirlwind of color. His cock was twitching, throbbing, and it seemed to feel even better the longer he stared, the closer he got… the deeper he sank...

“You will. You’ll let me hypnotize you so easily, because really, you're doing it to yourself.”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

“Because you know I win.”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

“Because I always win.”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

Her eyes darted downwards, just for a moment, and he knew exactly what she was looking at by the way her smile widened.

“Because you're already mine~” she cooed.

Her knee rose to briefly caress his throbbing bulge with her soft silk-wrapped thigh, and Linger let out a moan.

Rya slowly raised her hand in front of his face, one elegant finger pointing downward…

She gave his leash a downward tug.

“Kneel,” said Princess Rya.

Linger's knees buckled.

She didn't even think about it. She just felt the tug, felt a nice pulsing in her mind, and then her legs just gave way beneath her, and suddenly she was on the floor, staring up with wide, panicked eyes through a cloud of dizziness at the radiant Princess.

“W-What—”

Princess Rya—sweet, beautiful Princess Rya—laughed at her and patted her on the head. “Good girl!” she cooed. “Such a good little harem kitten for me~!”

“Nn—” Linger shook herself, whimpering, fumbling to find a way to pull off her collar. Its make was flawless, with no strap, no knot to untie. A delicate, unbreakable ribbon of finest silk.

Princess Rya seemed to admire her for a moment, eyes sparkling with glee. The Princess spun on her heel and began to walk away.

Linger watched her go, uncomprehending.

Then she felt a yank on her neck.

She stared up in horror at the departing Princess as understanding blossomed.

“Well?” Princess Rya turned and smirked down at her.

“Crawl, kitty~”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

Her head swam with shimmering silks. Princess Rya turned around and took another step, and this time Linger moved with the tug on her leash, crawling obediently after the Princess.

Linger’s heart was now a wild uneven drumming. His breathing was shallow, and not just because that sweet green peachy gardenia scent was all over him now. He needed to think of a way out of this.

While on his hands and knees. He was blushing hotter than a furnace.

Princess Rya walked slowly ahead, not bothering to look back as she approached a wall of rippling tapestries. He swallowed, trying and failing not to stare.

The wrappings hugged her plump butt tightly, showing off every swell, every curve, every jiggle.

He watched her ass sway with every languid step. Watched it bob, bounce, swing left to right, right to left, up and down...

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

He'd already knelt for her. Even though the proud, rational corner of his mind told him that that hadn't been hypnosis—that she'd forced him with the leash—the part of his head still swirling with her sly, confident gaze and smug, self-satisfied tones told him that Princess Rya could do whatever she wanted, and she wanted to hypnotize him, and Princess Rya always won.

He whimpered softly, feeling his cock throbbing as he crawled. It was humiliating. Degrading. It made him flustered in a way he’d never imagined he could feel, and Princess Rya… oh, she had such a nice, swaying, swinging butt. It bounced and jiggled to and fro like a soft, pillowy pair of pendulums.

And he knew how pendulums worked.

No. No. Stop looking. Stop staring!

But it shouldn't be working at all, he told himself weakly, as Rya raised a hand and the tapestries parted to reveal a hidden archway. A secret room. It shouldn't be working, and looking away would only reveal that he knew it was, even though it wasn't...

... so he had to keep... staring... to prove it wasn't...

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

Back and forth. Up and down. To and fro. Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce…

He wondered how it would feel to grope that ass, to sink his face into it, to feel it bouncing and grinding in his lap against his needy, throbbing cock...

He licked his lips. He couldn't look away. He was ogling Princess Rya's ass hopelessly, like the weak-willed pet Princess Rya knew—thought he was. He needed to look away from that plump, enticing, perfect bubble butt. Needed to look away now.

But that would be admitting it was hypnotizing him.

And he... he couldn't be...

He registered Princess Rya had led him straight into her throne room.

The walls glittered with crystal clusters. Lace was strung from the ceiling to hang like cobwebs, strung with countless glimmering little glowpebbles. Linger had never seen so many glowpebbles in one place. The throne itself was polished silver set with emeralds and cushioned with soft silks, the ground around it piled with pillows and lavish red carpet.

Princess Rya strutted towards the throne, and Linger could only crawl after, staring in hopeless wonder at the finery—and at Princess Rya's swinging hips—as she felt her brain turning into goo.

Princess Rya arrived at her throne, turned, and sat down. Her legs crossed as she smiled down at Linger and curled a finger.

Linger squirmed, staring up into Princess Rya's pretty fire-brown eyes. “I w-won't,” she slurred, crawling obediently up to Princess Rya's stocking-clad heel.

Princess Rya smiled sweetly. Ignoring Linger's protests entirely, she reached down and stroked Linger's hair affectionately.

“Gooood kitten,” she cooed. Linger blushed and squirmed. “You love being a good kitten for me, don't you?”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

Linger had to fight not to lean into the petting. “N-No,” he managed, biting his lip. “I, um...”

“Aw, yes you do!” It wasn't even corrective. It was just more cooing, as if he hadn't said anything. “You love being my good kitten because you love Princess~!”

“I d—”

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

Princess Rya reached up and slowly squished her boobs together, smirking down at him. Linger watched her lift them up. Watched them bounce free. The bandages were so tight, but it seemed like there were fewer and fewer of them by the second...

“You love Princess,” she cooed, “because you're my good kitten. And good kittens love their Princess.”

“N-Nn—”

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

The words were pulsing his mind into putty. He moaned, cock twitching. He could feel it dribbling, could feel it leaving. Could feel that need pulsing deeper and deeper into him.

He stared up into Princess Rya's pretty eyes and gasped as she pulled on his collar slightly, forcing him to rest his head right in her lap. Gardenia blossoms fluttered around his poor, dizzy brain.

“Silly kitty,” she cooed. “You love me, don't you?”

Linger stared up at Princess Rya's big, soft breasts, then up at her face, her beautiful eyes, her plump, kissable lips... her lap felt so soft, so warm...

“I... I...”

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

“You need Princess.”

Bounce. Squish. Bounce.

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

“You looove Princess.”

Bouncing up and down. Up and down. Squishing together, thoughts going squish...

“I-I can't—be—”

Kneel.

Adore.

Obey.

“You adore Princess.”

“P-Princess,” Linger mewled, shaking her head confusedly. There was too much, too many words, and the fingers stroking through her hair felt so nice, the collar felt like it had always been there—she tried to look away, tried to remember why she needed to...

Princess Rya cupped Linger's cheeks in both hands, cradling her face between them, and subtly forced Linger to hold her gaze.

“You adore me~” she said sweetly, smugly, as if she knew for a fact that it was true, had known even before they’d met that Linger was destined for this, because everyone was destined to adore her…

Linger whimpered. She shook her head slowly, only half sure she was correct. “I—I'm n—”

A finger slipped between Linger's lips.

She blinked wide eyes.

The other hand slipped behind Linger's head and started gently stroking her hair. “Suck, kitten. Princess is talking~”

She stared up at Princess Rya, a faun in the wisplights.

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

She sucked.

“You love me so much,” Rya purred. “You just want to be my adoring, pampered little kitten forever, don't you~?”

Linger whimpered. Princess Rya's finger felt so nice in her mouth, so natural...

“You adore Princess Rya.” The finger slid out. “Don't you~?”

Linger blinked dizzily up at Princess Rya.

She nodded weakly.

“Say it, kitten~”

“I—” Linger's voice was weak. She cleared her throat. “I luh—love Princess Rya.”

“Hm~?” Rya cupped a hand to her ear.

“I love Princess!” Linger squealed.

Linger felt Rya's stockinged foot slide between her legs... and start to rub.

“What was that... kitten~?”

Pleasure swam through Linger's molten mind.

“Mew!” she cried, her humiliation a dumb, cozy glow in the dazed dusk of her gooey brain. “Mewww! Meow meow meow mewwww!!”

Princess Rya laughed at Linger and patted his cheek sweetly. “Good kitten! You're doing so well.”

“Meww!” He gasped, grinding stupidly against her stocking.

“So cuuute~! Here, I’ll let you use your words if you promise to be good.”

Linger nodded eagerly. “Y-Yes! I promise, Princess Rya!”

“Oh, please.” Her eyes sparkled. “Call me Princess.”

He whimpered as she pulled him forward, letting him fully straddle her leg and grind his throbbing, drooling need against her softness.

She patted her thigh. “Up, my little hypnokitten~”

Kneel. Adore. Obey.

Linger climbed up eagerly, blushing hot. She felt so stupid for arguing before! Princess was so patient with her. She giggled, nuzzling into her Princess's embrace as she felt the arms wrapping around her.

She loved Princess soooo much!

“Such a good girl,” Princess cooed in her ear. “I’m going to take such good care of you, my dumb, broken little lapkitten~”

Linger beamed. He wiggled and squeaked a little as he felt Princess's hand between his legs, slowly stroking his leaking bulge. “Y-Yes, Princess!”

“You've done so well for me,” the Princess murmured, stroking his hair. He felt silks slowly wrapping around him, nice and cozy and tight, and he sensed their magic thrumming through his whole mind and body, and it all felt so good. So good to submit to his Princess’s embrace like a good kitten. She could take care of him now, forever and ever! “Sooo well. There's only one thing left to do, kitten.”

The enslaved little hypnopet blinked wide, innocent, thoughtless eyes up at his Princess as the silks bound him tighter.

Princess reached over and tugged at her bandages, and one massive breast at last spilled free, jiggling, bouncing. He stared at it, hopeless, drooling, eyes fixed on her nipple.

Kneel…

Serve...

“Suckle for me, kitten,” Princess said sweetly.

Obey.

Linger somehow sensed something changing as she said that, as the wrappings bound him tighter and tighter, as the word thrummed with exquisite pleasure inside him, as he humped her hand and grinded against her thigh. He sensed that he would never be free if he did this. That even if he ever escaped, Princess would haunt him, would follow him, and he would be hers forever. Destined for a life of sweet servitude in Princess’s loving arms.

He ducked his head obediently, latched onto the nipple, and began to suckle at her breast like a good kitten.

He felt and heard Princess moan against him. “Oh, gooood boy~”

Linger moaned back. She wriggled and suckled, clinging needily to Princess, utterly lost beneath waves of obedient bliss, of addictive adoration.

“There's my gooood little girl~”

Linger nursed happily, and would have purred if she could. She swore she could taste sweetness on her tongue. The gardenias filled her mind now. Princess filled her heart.

“There's Princess's adorable… eager… little… lapkitten~”

Something about those words sounded familiar to Linger.

She smiled dumbly around the nipple and humped against Princess’s hand. It must have been because she’d always been destined for this~