The Jewels of the Sunken Palace
A Femdom Hypnosis Dark Fantasy
One more step… the lights flickered and the shadows danced… one more step closer… he swayed as he moved, lulled by the silent music he felt… the music she danced to… one more step closer to her… the light in her eyes glimmered like… like the…
Her lips were pursed as her hips shifted one way as her stomach rolled the other…
I write to you in haste. We have found the passage below, down through the earth, through the dungeons, and deeper than the deep caves. I have sent as many of our expedition back as I could part with. Both to deliver this letter to you, to and to ensure our discovery is not lost should the worst happen.
The nature of this place is beyond all comprehension; this Under Land is a world of subterranean forests and rivers, a realm of wind and clouds, and even rain. The ceiling, the sky of this place is lit by a roof of stone that glows with the flow of magma or some other force I cannot explain.
I remain here, well provisioned and closing in on the path to the Sunken Palace and its mysteries. We have discovered many signs of the lost city, and more than a few considerable treasures. After shares, I have chosen to send you mine to this point along with this letter and a map. The men I am sending to deliver these to you I have trusted with my life.
If I do not return, know that some unknown hardship or fate has befallen me, and that you my heir may choose to finish this work or take what good it has wrought and honor me as you so see fit.
Your Uncle, Sir Rhyen Dain
The letter came, and so too did the map.
But neither the treasure, nor the men came with it.
It was found by chance in a well-oiled and preserved leather wallet in the bottom of a thick and hard used satchel. The satchel itself had been found in the corner of an old bandit hideout that had been razed by the forces of the Chosen One’s Queen, and sent with care to its rightful recipient, the newly knighted Damien Dain, who like his uncle, was an explorer for the Western Crown.
There was little else in his heart but the wonder for the unknown, the lost, and the legendary. There was much in his life that could have filled that hole, but his youth and daring blinded him to a more practical life, or at least blinded to one that was as dangerous in more predictable ways.
Little wars had bred a larger chaos on the continent.
Even as the Demon King of the Waste was felled by the Chosen One, foes both new and ancient had arisen to disrupt the peace, trade, and almost all manner of travel. In the remnants of the Empire, in those smaller kingdoms that made up the center of the continent, had sprung violence.
It was whispered that powerful and manipulative figures seemed to be pulling the strings of this new chaos. Rumors started to flow about maniacal shadows is almost every forest and old ruin, and over the span of a year, fear became the only true currency of the realm.
Sir Damien had long considered lending his arm to more valorous heroism, perhaps chasing the whispers of evil that came from the darkness, or from the far away northern temple now rumored to be ruled by a mysterious and legendary evil.
It was the travel and the mystery that spoke to his curiosity and wanderlust, not so much the chance for glory and deeds of arms. But all of these dangers demanded a champion of the light, and as fit and daring as he was, Damien was not that kind of hero.
Luckily, being a knight, he knew a few that were; and together with a small train of spelunkers and baggage carriers, he and his band pierced the surface of the world and dove down deep, deeper than the deep caves, the lost dungeons, and into the Under Land his uncle had spoken of.
“This must be a sight for you.” Sir Connor Bane, Damien’s best friend, clapped him on the shoulder as they stood on a plateau under the strange white gold glow that radiated from the roof above.
Damien’s father had died when he was a boy, killed by an enemy spear in a pointless battle, and his mother was distant and cold, then quick to remarry. Her new husband had little use for anyone who could possibly lay claim to her lands, and wanted a son of his own. So, Damien’s uncle had adopted him, and made him his heir.
Damien had thought the whole of the exploration had been lost, that the search was fruitless and his uncle’s death had been for naught. But the letter and the map had changed all of that.
“Do you see, yonder,” Sir Hedrick Sparrows, the third of their noble and gallant company, pointed out to a forested valley far in the distance. ‘Those are rain clouds. There is weather down here, weather, and wind, and night and day in this place.”
It had been unnerving to discover this place, unnerving and vindicating beyond belief. “We should make camp here, close to the entrance. Hedrick, take a few of the men and walk the perimeter, don’t scout out too wide, but keep an eye out for water and light a torch now, we don’t know if the lights will suddenly go dark. Connor and I will situate camp.”
The Fate of Hedrick
The tall grass parted, spread by two pale hands, and Sir Hedrick found himself staring into pale, translucent blue eyes, eyes the color of the real sky so many miles above, so many miles away.
She had elvish ears, pointed, and larges, they stuck out from her mane of deep green hair, and a golden crown sat atop her head, adorned in the center with a large white diamond. Soft, pale lips turned into a smile, and her body started to shift.
Through the grass Hedrick only say her upper half: those pale arms that were wrapped in golden bracelets and bangles, with one arm adorned only by a gold snake with ruby eyes that twisted up to her elbow, and her considerable breasts, as large as his head and supported by a bra of gold and silk, that was also bedecked with golden chains and dangling gems of all colors and sizes.
She did not speak to him, nor did he speak to her, instead, they stared into each other’s eyes as her torso started to shift and her hands rose to her eyes. When her fingers closed with her thumbs and her body moved, the sight of those bouncing, massive breasts caught his eye, and as her hips started to shift from side to side, Hedrick became enthralled by her dance.
The way she moved, the way she shifted, there were stories of dancers able to move like this back on the surface, but they were in distant lands and had not graced his eyes. Now though, he stared in awe as her head and shoulders started to sway, and her breasts started to bounce in a different pattern. As the gold of her bangles clanked and jingled, he could almost hear or at least imagine the silent music of her dance…
He wanted to speak, he wanted to move, he wanted to back away as she started to sway closer to him, but what he wanted more was to move with her, to follow the sway of her bouncing breasts and the serpentine motion of her body, loose, fluid, and truly hypnotic.
Somewhere behind him in the small copse of trees, they’d found a spring, and the others were gathering water and collecting deadfall for the camp. Somehow this place could support plant life even with the absence of the sun.
But that didn’t matter now.
His eyes had not left her breasts, and as they came closer, the up and down motion of them had made Hedrick aroused. His blood was flowing though his body was still as a statue. His breath was sharper, though he had not made a single move. And while he was in a dangerous place full of unknown perils, all he wanted to do was watch and follow her.
He started to mimic hers swaying back and forth, mirroring the direction of her head and shoulders, all while the soft bounce of her massive breasts continued.
His eyes were drawn up though, to her lips as she pursed them together as though she were about to kiss him, even though she was still more than an extended sword’s length away. He watched, dumbstruck as she spit something at him, something green…
That struck his face, his eyes, and even his mouth. As it connected with him, Sir Hedrick felt a wave of numbing, electric pleasure throb through his body. He gasped as the weakness spread, powerlessness and pleasure flowing through his body as one,
He stumbled forwards, not backwards, and raised a trembling hand to wipe away the stickiness on his face, and as his fingers slid past his eyes, he was staring deep into hers, watching her pupils change from those of a person’s to those of a serpent’s.
“Look,” her voice was soft, deadly soft and smooth as the creamy skin of her breasts, “look down, sink down brave one, down into the warmth of my breasts. Come to my embrace, step into my arms, and rest your head on my breasts. You are weary and wanting, weak and lusting, join me in my dance, join with me in my grasp.”
Back at the Camp
“We’re in an unnatural place, we shouldn’t be here.” Hedrick stood with the rest of the men who’d gone on scouting patrol with him. They all looked shaken and tired, as though the quest had caught up to each of them. “We should turn back, we should just leave before we go any further.”
“It’s certainly strange and off-putting, I’ll give you that, but we just got here.” Connor clapped Hedrick on the shoulder and laughed. “Maybe we should sleep on it, and take a vote in the morning.”
Damien sat with his back against a large rock, looking at the maps they’d made to take them this far. He said nothing.
One of Hedrick’s men spoke up, ‘There’s not going to be any morning.”
“Up.” Damien didn’t look up, he just pointed at the ceiling, “look up. It’s starting to get darker.”
There were twenty men in total, the three knights and seventeen explorers and adventurers of various skills and experiences. There wasn’t a coward in the lot, and most if not all of them had more experience in battle and in all other manner of danger than Damien, but for him the stakes were different.
“If it gets dark and stays dark a long while, that’ll be no different than what we’ve been living in already. If it gets light again, then we’ll call it morning. I ask no man to stay who doesn’t want to.”
“Well I don’t want to lose a day or a night’s march to the surface, let us leave now.” It was the same one who’d spoken up earlier, Tyler was his name, and he’d been as stout hearted as any man on this quest. In fact, he’d had a steadier hand than most.
“Let Hedrick lead everyone who wants to leave back out of this place. You know most of the band will stay with you, and if they stay, their unease will spread. Just put it out front of everyone, remind them what you said at the start. And mention that there’s got to be more gold down here.”
“I’m no coward Connor, you know that. None of these fellows are. But I’m no fool either. This is only danger atop danger, turn back with us, leave this place.” Hedrick was looking gaunt, his eyes seemed tight around the edges, like he’d aged, like his skin didn’t quite fit his bones anymore.
Damien nodded slowly, “Gather your supplies, take anyone who wants to leave this place, take copies of the maps, and be careful friend. It was hard goings getting here, it’s to be hard goings on the way back.”
It didn’t take being said twice, Hedrick and ten others departed back towards where they came. More left than either of the knights expected.
“This is suspect Damien, you know something is off here.”
The glow in the roof had dimmed considerably by the time the return party had departed.
“I do.” Damien nodded, “But I also know we just found an underground world more impossible than any magic we’ve heard or seen in our lives or in any accounting. Something spooked them out there, but Hedrick’s been more talk than deed for as long as we’ve known him, and he’ll probably talk himself into turning back around.”
“So if you were me Connor, what would you do?”
“I’d get a good night’s sleep, take my turn at watch, and then tomorrow I’d make my way out to explore and do what I came here for.”
Later that night, as Connor walked the perimeter of the camp, checking in with the men and checking their defenses, he saw the flicker of something out at the edge of the firelight.
It was a glimmer of color, a flash of something blue, and as he narrowed his eyes to see what it may have been, another color sparkled out in the dark, then another. Blue became purple, then green, then yellow, and on and on in no more time than the blink of an eye.
He felt the world pass him by in a rainbow of electric color, and then it was gone, blinked away into the darkness, but something lingered there, some phantom image that had burned itself into his eyes.
He walked out of the circle of light, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Did you come back?”
There was another flash of electric blue at the edge of his vision, and he spun to face it, his blade half drawn.
Then he stopped.
Something horrible filled his vision, but not for long.
Warm sticky pleasure started to flow through his face, leaving his lips numb and his sense of direction confused. Something was trickling down his neck and the darkness was crowding him.
“Let’s not look at that shall we,” a slinky, feminine voice was slithering in his ear with long s’s that were starting to constrict his thoughts.
“Look at me, I’m a much nicer sight for you, yes.” He couldn’t make out the new form in front of him, not until little candle flames of color started to twinkle and dance, cascading along golden chains and bangles, illuminating and outlining a beautiful and buxom figure.
The lights were dancing, and every flicker was a disorienting strike to Connor’s diminishing ability to think. “Be still now Connor, be still and silent”
Soft lips kissed him in the darkness, and he felt massive breasts pressing into his chest as that mysterious voice slithered its words into his ear, “Come with me my darling thing.”
He felt something strong curl around his body, and as he felt himself being pulled along, the fire behind him grew more distant and the world grew oppressively silent.
Free from the assault of the flashing lights, but drunk on whatever toxic chemical bliss his captor had exposed him to, the horror Connor had seen returned to him in an ethereal fashion.
He had seen Hedrick.
The flat, empty skin of his friend had been there at his feet, the man’s clothes and armor were there as well, all as one piece, paper thin, and crumbling to dust before his eyes… eyes… serpentine scintillating eyes looking into his as delicate hands loosened his trousers while soft cooing shushing sounds wrapped around him again. He gasped with pleasure, and grunted with hunger as his cock slid inside her.
“Yes, my prey, my pet, my little mouse, give yourself to me.”
The Next Morning
“How’d you sleep?” Connor looked tired, and the eight remaining adventurers all seemed disquieted by the unnatural dawn.
“Well enough. Woke up a while ago, had a look around, saw some things you might be interested in. How about you?”
“Like a log, surprisingly. How did you think Hedrick’s doing?” Damien was up and dressed, and had made himself a small breakfast.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Connor’s jaw looked loose and his eyes looked tight. He seemed drawn too thin, “The men are saying that they took too large a share of the supplies. I think we’ll have to set to foraging now before it’s an issue.”
“Good plan.” Damien was silent for a moment and smiled at his friend, “Why don’t you take a few of the men out and start mapping the territory, but first, what’d you see?”
“There’s a half submerged road about half a mile out, it runs near a river of sorts and down hill towards a section of the Sunken City I think. It looks like a valley from up here, but of you walk the edge of the hills, you can make out what’s down there. Probably what your uncle saw, you may not want to go it alone.”
Damien nodded, he felt like he should be feeling more somber than he was.
But, this was an amazing place, an impossible world to investigate and explore, and out there almost a stone’s throw away was the tip of the ruins.
“But you are going to go alone aren’t you?”
Damien nodded. “I’ll be careful, we can set up a relay, or signs, or whatever would make you feel more comfortable.”
Connor laughed, and when he did, his face seemed scrunched and distorted for a second, “You’re really not worried about what might be out there?”
“No, I’m scared shitless, but I’m curious, and I’m not going to walk any of these men who were brave enough to stay out into unknown peril… well… more unknown peril.”
“That’s stupid and reckless, you know that right?” Damien’s best friend had the look that went along with what he thought he should be feeling, but didn’t.
“I do, and if I fall off a trail, or into quicksand, or get eaten by cave monsters, or unknown giant cave birds, or what-have-you, I’ll probably be easy to find. I’ll make a point to be.”
That was about it, that was what was going to happen.
Once, in the lost times…
There was a foolish explorer, a foolish treasure hunter, or just a plain old fool like me chasing after a mystery and getting himself lost, or killed, or eaten after getting lost and then getting killed.”
Damien stood atop a flat stone on one of the hills that overlooked the valley Connor had pointed him towards. His uncle always said that every foolish death started with a foolish notion. The man apparently foretold his own fate, because what was more foolish than questing after a collection of lost jewels and regalia in a kingdom swallowed by the land itself .
The jewels were a collection of hereditary treasures, a collection of the brightest, most perfect and beautiful gemstones chosen one at a time, one generation at a time, by the monarchs of this lost kingdom. Some were said to be nothing more than finely cut stones, while others were rumored to be made of or used to imprison the souls of others.
Some legends that spoke of the gems, and the objects they were set in, said they granted the owner wisdom and strength of mind beyond human accounting. Others said the stones granted an external force of will that could change the self, or how others perceived you, instilling loyalty in the strong of heart, and dominion on the weak of mind. Many such stories were overblown, but there was plenty of magic in this world, so to Damien it was even odds that the gems would be worth more than their pure value.
His journey down the hill and into the valley was straight and deliberate, and he marked his path as they had their journey through the miles of caves that brought him this far. Half way down, the earth under foot turned to cracked and damaged worked stone, and at the base of the hill, looking up, it became clear to Damien that most of the landscape was the remains collapsed stone buildings and the long settled remains of landslides.
He was in the city and straight ahead, half buried in the side of another hill was what looked to be the front of a palace. By a trick of angles, it couldn’t be seen from up above. And by a similar trick of perspective, the idea of seeing new sights and discovering the lost, mysterious, and unknown also managed to hide the promise of unearthing a veritable and perhaps priceless fortune in jewels.
Damien could feel his lack of common sense pulling at him, telling him to head towards the palace, but a few simple facts made their way into his thought process.
This place was far too close to the entrance to this weird underground world.
That meant there was no way his uncle and his people could have missed it.
Whatever got him, if he didn’t get gotten on the surface or done in by his own group, was probably in or around that palace.
Or they cleared out the palace and discovered a lead that would push them deeper into this unmapped land.
The responsible thing would be to look around, to check for signs of life and to make sure nothing and no one was lurking about. It would have been nice to send some of the explorers out, it would have been better to send Hedrick and the other battle tested fellows out to do it.
But they were gone, lost their nerve, and while he didn’t tell Connor, there was too much riding on pushing further. There was too much riding on what would happen if more of the men lost their morale. And while he wasn’t a hero by any stretch, if Damien could work some hotheaded bravado driven heroism, then it would help to rally the troops.
Damien spent a couple of hours slowly making his way down the valley, investigating cracks, crannies, and doorways. He found an old cache of weapons and climbing supplies, and even a few bags of various strange coins. Most were made of bronze or copper, but there were a few that were clay, and some of the clay ones had thin golden disks inside.
Clay coins were artifacts, many of them were tokens of favors and labor, and in older societies they were not considered currency. The gold inside was symbolic of a greater value in the deed, and part of Damien felt a little guilty chipping away at the clay coins he found.
The weapons were familiar too, stamped with the smith’s marks of men Damien had grown up around. The weapons were in good shape. Everything had remained dry, and untouched by any save those that left them. There were no other personal effects, and not food stores either. Whatever this was, it looked like nonessential gear.
As he came out of that cave, something caught his eye. Down by the palace, near where a stream flowed out of the rock and half buried masonry, someone was moving with an odd limp towards the opening.
“Connor?” Damien could hear his shout echo through the valley, but his friend didn’t do much more than look back and wave to him before continuing onwards to the palace.
“Awe shit, what’s he up to?’ Damien followed, and before long, he was just inside the gates of the palace hall.
White stone surrounded him, and while it had been swallowed by the earth, this part seemed to have been swallowed whole. Not only that, its luxurious trappings also remained and endured. Wall hangings of velvet and silk adorned the inner walls, pattered with abstract shapes and images, but devoid of any likenesses he could see.
The air felt different as well, still and timeless, like a pool of water untouched and undisturbed. The world sounded different in there was well, and for a moment he feared the strange crunching sound under his feet was old parchment or dry leaves that had somehow been blown in.
There were all manner of trees growing down here, there was wind too so why couldn’t it be…
It looked sort of brownish and formless, but it wasn’t leaves. It wasn’t much of anything anymore, and even as he looked at the strange mass of what looked like pieces of aged loose parchment spread out in a mess, it fell away to dust.
“Connor?” Damien shouted again, and his voice sounded hollow. He felt like he was shouting through time, and felt the distinct certainty that his uncle had stood in this exact spot.
“Your friend is at rest,” a feminine voice echoed around him, ghostly, no more than a whisper, with the ‘s’ in rest stretching out longer than one would expect it to. Her voice felt like silk brushing against his brain, and the word rest filled him with a sudden yearning to close his eyes.
The feeling didn’t last.
“What’s he doing down here? And who might you be?” Damien’s feet moved of their own accord as he spoke, inching him backward towards the exit.
“He has had a very long night, and a very long day, all of your company has, save for you. This one, Connor you call him, has come here to rest, with me. This is my home, I am the last inhabitant of the Great Palace.”
Again, the touch of her voice brushed against him, and her words held the promise of a drowsy, sleepy day, of a gentle breeze and the warmth of the setting sun. And again, the tender sensation of sleep didn’t truly take hold of him.
“Would you show yourself, or would you prefer I depart your home? I would gladly escort my friend away from here, and I’m sure he’s sorry to intrude.”
Suddenly, every rumor of the chaos up the surface returned to him.
Plant women, spider women, soul stealing witches, even the Chosen One, an actual hero of destiny bestowed with the power to wage war against the most feared of all evils had apparently fall under the sway of some demoness. Now he was here in some long lost place with a mysterious woman whose haunting words were trying to lure him into slumber…
“Do you think I so often have company here that I could not stand an unannounced guest or two?” The voice was thin, like a lone musical note half played, lost now in its own mirth. “Tell me, why have you quested so far, and so deep, what brings you to this place?”
She was stalling, or trying to stall him from leaving, keeping him talking, maybe trying to keep him listening, to see if his resolve would buckle.
“To be frank,” he was one step away from the exit, one deliberate step backwards, “I’m following the family business, and I came here hoping to see the sights and, well, try and find some legendary long lost crown jewels. But, if Connor’s sleeping, I’ll let him rest.”
He stepped out of the palace and turned to run.
Finding the Jewels
“You can have them. I’ll gladly part with them if you’d like.”
That hollow, ethereal voice seemed to fade and die at the edge of the white stones of the palace floor.
“They do me no good down here, and they’ve cost so much, so very much to so many over these endless years. But know that you are asking for something sight unseen.”
There was a glimmer of color in her voice, some magic in her speech that let those words glow with all the colors of the rainbow. He could almost envision the jewels now… All he aha dot do was turn back and face her… turn back and see them… all he had to do was…
All he had to do was…
All he had to do was go back to camp for help, and that’s what he did.
He ran and didn’t look back, and when he arrived at the camp, no one was there to greet him.
At least no one was awake to do so.
Everywhere he looked, in every tent, the men were asleep, and no matter how he tried, they would not wake.
“Awe fuck me,” Damien’s good humor about the foolishness and stupidity of grand adventure did little to keep the soul crushing fear away, but it was just enough. He was already armed with sword and dagger, and took a crossbow and a quiver of bolts out from one of the supply tents.
“Okay, okay, fuck, okay, shoot first, don’t ask questions at all. Kill her, save your friends, get the treasure, save the day. You can do that you can…”
“Listen to the music Damien,” the voice from the palace was curling around him now, and as the words faded the faint sounds of music started to waft into his senses.
It was more than just hearing it, something like strings, humming, strumming, plucking at nothing, it was something he felt, like the music was a wind brushing over his skin.
He stepped out of the tent, his crossbow raised, and Damien found himself in a translucent shroud of mist.
All around him the world was dull and obfuscated.
The colors were washed out and the world sounded as the palace had. Still, he felt the tingle and hum of the silent music in his skin, and at the edges of his vision he say ghostly female forms twisting and swaying to the music.
He shot one, and the bolt flew through it, causing it to dissipate in a blur of bright green electric light. It was a color brighter and more vibrant than any he had ever seen before, and in that flash the eyes of countless swaying figures glowed in that same green.
“Do you hear the music Damien? It will answer all your questions if you listen.” The mist had grown thicker, and as it did, and as those female forms continued to twist inside it, Damien could almost hear something.
It sounded like the feeling that was humming over his skin, and as the mist started to crowd him, it grew louder. He could hear the silent music, and the eyes of the figures started to flash and glow in time with it.
The world around him had become a dance, spinning and twirling, separating him from everything else. His crossbow was reloaded, brought back to the ready, and this time he wasn’t going to shoot until he saw a solid target.
“Come to me Damien, dance with me and I will show you all you wish to see.”
Those words had grown stronger, more full, and more real than they had felt in the palace, and one shadowy female form stood out against the silver white mist more than the others.
He aimed and steadied himself to shoot, but flickers of blue and purple and yellow and red started to swirl around that dark shape. Damien couldn’t bring himself to do it. There was something warm and familiar in those lights, like he was seeing the sound of hidden voices in the music, telling him everything was okay.
The mist thinned between the two of them, and before he truly saw her form or face, he saw a sparkling white diamond on a golden crown. It had to be one of them, one of the jewels, and his sudden elation at realizing that felt outsized. The music was fueling the thrill.
“Who are you?” The pale blue eyes staring at him from the delicate fair face under the crown seemed to be willing him to lower his weapon, or pleading with him to reconsider putting in bolt in her chest.
Her massive jiggling chest.
Framed by the mist, her waist moved from side to side and her incredible breasts heaved up and down, “I was a dancer, entertainment for the King and Queen, and while none now remain from those dark days, I have persevered and become the keeper of my kingdom’s treasures and secrets.”
‘How?” a gold bangle on her arm, a snake with glittering ruby red eyes caught his gaze as her arms moved in intricate motions in time with the music. He felt its pull, like her body was attached to his now, as though he couldn’t help but dance with her. But as strong as the pull was, Damien had never been much of a dancer.
“Time, and life, and light, the energy of existence is different here. The powers at work in this place are beyond my understanding, even beyond the wisdom of the jewels. I don’t know how, but I do know why.”
She smiled as she spoke and without slowing her gyrating, twisting dance, pulled her long green hair back from face.
Something about her voice felt like a mystery he could almost solve. Maybe one more word, or one more hint would answer everything.
Her ears were pointed, she had elvish features, and her lips were a delicate pink. She was beautiful, more beautiful still in her movements, in her motions. The silent music and the mist made her colors and her features stand out all the more, and feel all the more wonderful to look upon.
“Why then?” Damien was frozen in curiosity, fascinated by her, and the longer he stared the more gems and jewels he noticed. She was adorned in them, dangling from chains, set in bracelets and rings, each one a sparkling, dazzling sight.
“I am here to dance for you Damien, to do as I have always done, to share the gift of my art with those worthy enough of appreciating it.” Her hips shifted again, and her shoulders and neck swayed back and forth, her body moving and contorting with inhuman flexibility, and he noticed that the long layered skirts that disappeared into the mist that swirled below her waist were secured with belts of golden coins, each one fixed with a gem in its center.
“Come closer.” She sounded like the music, innocent flowing, cheerful now. The world was inviting him closer to her, he felt it in his skin, but again, he denied the desire to move towards her.
“What have you done to my friends, where’s Connor?” There was a pressure inside him, a desire to simply let sleeping dogs lie, to ignore everything else and enjoy her presence, but he simply couldn’t. As curious as he was about how it would feel to let go and give in to the music, there was far too much driving him.
“I want to be alone with you Damien, you alone. I could not let anyone stand between us. But you need not worry about Hedrick and Connor now, they have played their parts in this world, and these others will find themselves forgetting their courage soon enough. But you, I wish for you to remain, you are the greatest of the three, and so you are honored with my dance.”
“Wait,” he wanted to raise his crossbow again, but couldn’t find the certainty to move, “What have you done to Hedrick, to both of them?”
“Always what, and never why? Always what, and never how. Always what, but what does what tell you? I ask you now, what happens as you watch my dance?”
She shifted and rolled in time with the music, and around her, lights glowed and flashed brilliant and sharp, then warm and lingering.
As they did, her hands started to weave back and forth in front of her breasts, breasts that bounced now and swayed now, their impossible size becoming captivating, more enthralling to his blinking dazzled eyes than the vibrant sparkling lights that were assaulting him.
He blinked and squinted and as her fingers twisted in interweaving patterns in front of her massive chest, they started to roll upwards to her eyes before fanning out on either side of the diamond in her crown.
There, inside of it, he saw a swirling white mist and light, he saw a vortex of silver shimmering fog, and as her hand began to wave back and forth, snaking its way back down to her breasts, he felt the weight of the air on his neck and shoulders, tilting his head down, forcing him to stare at those massive orbs that continued their own dance for him.
Wordlessly, she continued to move, and as he stared, as he watched her chest, enthralled by what he saw, the mist shifted and all around him he became aware of those shadow images of her surrounding him.
A chorus of voices, her voice, in different tones, in different volumes, started chanting with the music. They told him to come closer, to be still and watch, to stare, to blink, to sleep, to stay awake, to listen, to dream, to let her come to him, to go to her, and in front of his eyes, her own solid image began to blur.
No matter what he did or thought of doing, he was doing something she was commanding him to do now.
In the center of the mirage she was still dancing, fingers and thumbs connected, head moving from side to side, hips jutting back and forth, breasts bouncing to and fro as the music grew louder and stronger. But in front of her, and behind her, to the sides of her, different images and phantoms of her were caressing herself, pinching large exposed nipples, faces moaning in ecstasy, teasing him with slowly pulling down the gold and silk bra that kept those massive breasts somewhat covered.
Every image was a possibility, every sound was a command to do what he was doing, and what he wasn’t doing.
There was a time to act, to strike, or to flee, he simply had to commit, but he was entranced by her breasts, and the phantom images, like possibilities of what she would do next, or what she may have already done, and he had to be certain of when to act, because there was only one chance to move, to escape her.
Song of the Snake
The music was a chaotic softness in his mind and on his skin. His eyes were becoming glassy and hazy.
“You are very strong. You have a powerful mind and a heart of purpose. You are the greatest of your peers, the greatest of men to have come to this place in a very long time, I am honored to share my gifts with you Damien.”
Something glimmered in her eyes, and though the enshrouding mist was still heavy on him, like a physical will bending his vision, he found the resolve to break away from her enthralling breasts and look up at her face.
Her pupils were changing shape, becoming serpentine, and a forked tongue flicked out over her lips.
What creature was she?
Snakes would stare into the eyes of their prey, and with no greater magic than fear, leave them paralyzed, slowed by hesitation and unable to escape the sudden strike.
Snakes shed their skin, paper thin, dried out skin that…
He shot her.
But as he snapped the crossbow up and pulled the trigger, a glob of greenish liquid shot from her pursed lips.
It missed him, but so too did he miss her.
Then she was on him.
The phantom images coalesced into one body, the tremendously buxom and beautiful woman before him had no legs, but a long serpent’s tail, twice again as long as her torso, maybe three times..
She twisted around his legs once and coiled up his body until her chest was in his face and her hands were on the sides of his head.
Then, they tumbled to the ground and she was on top of him, with her tits dangling down, free from what was holding them.
She was rubbing against him, moaning softly, changing the music to something deeper, hotter, something oppressive in its notes of lust, lust that was dripping on his skin.
“Ssshhh now Damien, no more struggle, no more fighting for you,” her words were sweet with a mystical, luscious hunger, ‘”Gaze upon me now, see only my breasts, see their dance for your tired eyes.”
His hands were free but his weapons were pinned to his sides, and every place their skin touched, he could feel her warmth sinking into her skin as honey sweet as her words had poured into his ears.
The echoes returned. Look at my breasts, look away, surrender, resist, stare, sleep, fight, surrender, do as I say, do as you are told, do nothing, do nothing, do nothing.
“Your will is so very strong,“ one voice rang out through the echoes and as it spoke her breasts started to blur again in groping squeezing hands, some hers, some images of his own perhaps, “your wits are sharp, and your body is quick, but here you are now, and soon my kiss will soothe that mammalian need to struggle, but for now, just watch my breasts, so large, so perfect, so tempting to even the greatest of men.”
She moaned and rolled her hips against his.
“Before I took the jewels, my breasts were enough to enchant any man who watched me dance. They were smaller then but they were large enough, and I still had the legs of a woman. More than lust, more than desire, my breasts hypnotized countless men, it was not magic, it was my essence and my will, and finally the king, and even his queen were seduced by my dance and the temptation of my breasts. Can you not see for yourself how this could be?”
“Watch them as I dance in your lap,” she giggled as she did, “not as I did before I was marked and cursed by my nature, but no less enchanting, no less beguiling. Watch them, see their natural power to compel, seducing your mind where magic has failed me. Entangling your thoughts in my words, where the music of my will could not penetrate your armor as deeply as it should.”
Damien felt the weight of her chest in his mind, the hypnotic sight of her massive breasts bouncing, her fingers teasing little circles around her nipples, and he tried to lift a hand to strike her, but she just laughed.
“As you stare at my breasts, the weight of my power is pressing down on you, embracing you, weakening you. As you stare, the longer you stare the more you realize you can feel my will working against you now, hands of sound, of song still humming, gripping around your wrists, binding you down, until you see that the more you feel, the more all you can possibly do is stare.”
“No,” he pushed against the idea of what she said, and his arms came up, free from whatever she had claimed.
And as he spoke, she pursed her lips into a kiss and spit a glob of venom into his open mouth.
“There now, feel my kiss soothing you, making it easy to stare at the sight before you. Just feel it, the silent music, the touch of my skin, feel it surround you from head to toe. Feel it and stare, watch my breasts, let me finish the dance.”
Damien felt drunk, and the fear was spilling out of him. There was a void forming in him where his terror and his need for self-preservation had been. His inhibitions were fading, and those massive breasts, bouncing and jiggling in front of his eyes were pulling at the last of his senses while her voice was soothing him, flattening him into a one dimensional being.
His body had finally betrayed him, his cock had come to life as the danger melted into the purely sensual, and he didn’t understand anything.
The word was hard to form and the sentiment that inspired it was even harder to define now, but it came out, and it made her smile.
“The finest things are always made from the finest ingredients.” She stood them back up, and shifted her coil around him until she could rip his trousers open and take his newly hardened cock in her hand.
She shifted again, then slid herself onto him and tightened her coil.
‘The mind resides in the flesh, the spirit the seed, and the soul in true pleasure Damien. And now all of you, all of your soul shall reside in my collection, continuing the tradition of the jewels.”
He smiled a dumb fuck drunk smile as the snake woman used her lower half to manipulate the pace, coiling and uncoiling around him, her tits continuing their placating hypnotic bounce.
“I feast on the promising ones, harness the best one, and send the rest back to ensure more will find me.”
Again he struggled to form the word and the thought, and again she smiled.
“Because I preyed on lust for wisdom and power, and for gain, and when the kingdom sank, when I brought it low with my ambition and broke the sacred laws, nothing left of my humanity remained. I am a monster Damien, I crave nothing more than souls to keep and souls to use. I dance, I charm, and I poison the mind until the body is willing, and the will is broken. I have no greater love, no greater curiosity, or sense of adventure, I am satisfied by the contents of the souls of others, capturing pure emotion in my jewels, making new ones from only the best ingredients.”
She purred those words out and felt his cock pulse with pleasure, his body separate from the terror of her words.
As he came inside her, he met the fate of all those who had. His essence was drained, consumed by her entirely, and as she had no use for his skin, it dissolved to dust.