Fairy Tail: Fairies vs Bandits (part 5)

Erza cried out in pain as she received a slash across her lower back. Her opponent’s energy sword parted her armor like it was little more than spandex, leaving another glowing cut on her bare skin.

Retaliating, the scarlet-haired warrior whirled and swiped at her attacker’s neck, a lightning-fast stroke meant to take the villainess by surprise.

Lydia leaned back, creating just enough space that Erza’s sword missed by centimeters.

Erza herself, having been sure the blow was going to land until the last second, was thrown off balance when it missed. Before she could recover, a kick to the stomach knocked her off kilter, slamming her into a glass case covered by a tarp. The glass crunched, breaking under the armored heroine.

“Oooh…” Lydia purred, her green eyes glinting, “Can you feel it?”

Erza leaned against the case for a moment, her chest heaving, sweating in her black Purgatory armor. It had been yet another perfect counter. Once the villainess had drawn her Sword of Darkness,  every attack Erza had attempted ended with that same result. Now she bore numerous cuts from that strange blade, that never touched her flesh but attacked her will and spirit, carving into her very soul.

Grunting, Erza pushed herself off the case and managed a ready stance with her weapon, but it felt so heavy now. She had tried several different armor and weapons to mix up her attacks and find a weakness, but every time she changed her opponent changed with her. Now as Erza wielded sword the size of a small table, the Sword of Darkness was an exact, glowing replica.

Lydia chuckled gently, showing her teeth in a feral grin.

“I said, can you feel it? It’s just the two of us now,” the bandit queen hissed, “Your other friend has fallen. It’s all down to our battle…”

Erza gritted her teeth, “I… I don’t believe you.”

“Yes, you do,” Lydia’s grin broadened, “If you can’t defeat me, all three of you will be ours. And if this is all you have to offer, you can’t defeat me.”

Angered, Erza lunged, but the bandit queen deflected her stroke with ease, then countered with her own blow that Erza barely managed to block. They carried out a quick exchange, the scarlet knight careful with her attacks to avoid leaving herself vulnerable, the green knight parrying each one and striking back at her opponent’s weakest point.

Regardless of Erza’s cautiousness, the result was the same. Lydia countered each attack with ease, goading Fairy Tail’s strongest woman into overstepping herself, and it finally happened when Erza lunged a couple inches deeper than she should have. Before she could recover, her sword was batted aside, and she received a sharp cut across the chest.

“AAH!” Erza gasped in pain and immediately retreated, stumbling clumsily away before a more substantial blow could be landed.

Lydia followed, like a tigress stalking after a wounded lamb.

“I offered you a way out,” she leered, “But since you forced this on me, I want to relish it. I know you have more, Erza Scarlet. Show me more. Give it to me!”

She swung the Sword of Darkness and caught Erza on the back foot. The Fairy Tail wizard blocked the blow, but it staggered her back further, keeping her off balance.

“Show me more!” Lydia’s voice was rough with need, “I want more! Show me the steel in your heart! Then show me your DESPAIR!”

Another blow swung down and Erza blocked it but staggered again, her eyes wide. She hadn’t felt fear in such a long time that at first she didn’t recognize the cold feeling in her stomach, the tightness in her throat. There had been many times she’d faced powerful opponents and long odds, but never someone that made her feel like an amateur. She was retreating almost as fast as she could, gripping her weapon with white knuckles, afraid to attack because she knew she’d be immediately countered.

Desperate for another tactic, Erza called on her requip magic and glowed with golden light. She transformed into her scant, cheetah-themed Flight armor and lunged, her speed augmented.

The suddenness of the attack took Lydia by surprise and for a moment she was driven back, fending off Erza’s lighter dual swords with her single, large sword. The Fairy Queen battered at the heavy blade and even managed to land a crisp blow to her opponent’s shoulder, before Lydia transformed the Sword of Darkness to match her.

When the bandit queen’s weapon became two exact replica’s of Erza’s, the battle immediately shifted once again. Lydia began blocking the attacks and countering at the same time, striking Erza across the thigh and the ribs.

Seeing her momentary advantage going sour, the scarlet-haired heroine retreated once more, lashing out with a quick thrust to keep her opponent back.

Lydia caught the blade between two of her own, pinching it between them and trapping it. She twisted and wrenched, trying to disarm, but Erza kept her grip, instead being yanked toward her opponent off balance.

It wasn’t what the bandit queen had intended, but she took advantage of the opportunity. Stepping aside, Lydia let her weary opponent stagger past her, tripped her on the way, then turned and pistoned a kick into her back to turn the trip into painful fall.

Erza was knocked off her feet with a cry of surprise, thrown forward to crash into another tarp covered case, knocking the entire thing over. It shattered on impact with the floor, the tarp thrown off and letting the contents clatter out onto the wooden planks.

Shaking her head, Erza began climbing back to her feet, but slipped on some broken glass and fell back down. Her shoulders heaved, glowing marks from Lydia’s blades still clear on her bare thigh and side, not to mention a few physical cuts from the broken glass. When she tried to get up again, it was with more caution. The glass tinkled and crunched underneath her as she started to rise.

Somewhat to her surprise, Lydia didn’t pounce on her immediately. The bandit queen had paused, looking at something.

“How nice,” the villainess laughed gently, “Looks like I’m going to get what I came for after all…”

Unsure what her opponent meant, Erza glanced over her shoulder at the green-haired villainess, then at the objects that had drawn her attention.

Out of the case Erza had smashed, three metal orbs had rolled free, now lying tangled in the case’s tarp. They were similar lumps of inert iron roughly the shape of cannonballs, black and unremarkable but for a knot carved into each one that was surrounded by rings of decorative etching. The three balls were only different in the styles of their etchings, one made up of jagged zig zags, another with a wavy pattern, and the last being simple circular rings, almost like a bullseye.

To one who hadn’t studied, they would have been trifles or curios, but Erza recognized them from rough drawings in old magic books: the Siphons of Hedrick.

The fairy queen grunted like she’d been punched in the stomach, gaping in disbelief and horror. Even if she had fallen to Lydia, in a way she would have had victory in that she delayed the bandit long enough to keep her from attaining her prize. Now, out of all the places their battle could have taken them, she’d led the green knight to the very things she sought.

“It appears this is going to be a good day’s haul,” Lydia advanced, “Three guild wizard slaves, the siphons, everything else this place has to offer.” Her eyes narrowed, “And the steel of the mighty Titania joining my collection.”

Erza pushed herself to her feet, shoulders slumped with weariness, her sword arms hanging towards the floor. Her head was lowered, legs spread awkwardly, like she was about to slip to the floor.

“You can kneel if you want, Erza,” Lydia teased gently, “Providence is on my side it seems. You can’t beat me. And soon, you and your friends will be leashed and serving in my fortress.”

The fairy queen slowly turned to face her opponent. Her chin was lowered, her red hair covering her eyes, looking exhausted, beaten.

But then Erza lifted her head, revealing a gaze of hardened steel. Though she was panting, clearly haggard and battered, there was steel in her gaze, brow pinched in a determined glare. Like the warrior she was, she didn’t despair at the bad luck that had befallen her. On the contrary, it meant she truly couldn’t lose to this woman. No matter what it took, she wouldn’t allow her opponent to win.

She drew upright, breasts thrust out proudly, wounded but unbowed, a curving goddess of righteousness.

“I will never kneel to you,” she growled, eyes narrowing to slits, “For the sake of my friends and for the sake of Fairy Tail, I will not fail. Even if it means every last drop of my magic and even my life.”

Lydia sneered back, “Easy to say, but impossible to do if you can’t touch me.”

Erza’s lips turned up in a blood-chilling grin, her eyes remaining hard as a blade.

“You have a magical link to steel and battle,” the scarlet knight explained, “You let me attack you so you could learn my magic, copy and anticipate my moves, sense my steel coming before I strike. It’s a cowardly way to battle, lacking creativity and heart.”

“It’s a tactic all the greats use,” Lydia’s brow lowered, “Learning the song of their opponent’s steel and using it against them. I’m simply better at it than anyone.”

“But you lack the discipline of those masters, using magic alone to anticipate attacks,” Erza said, “And there’s something you haven’t considered: I haven’t shown you everything in my arsenal.”

Lydia grinned, eyes twinkling with greed.

“Then show me.”

Erza brought both swords up and shot towards her opponent with no further preamble, her flight armor making her little more than a blur.

The green knight raised her swords, already seeing how Erza’s attack would come. Now that she’d learned the “song” of the fairy queen’s steel, she could see how the entire exchange would play out, like it was already plotted out. It was almost boring at this point, and she was even a little disappointed with the purported Titania’s skill and adaptability.

She should have known better.

An instant before reaching her, Erza glowed golden, calling on her requip magic once again. The light was blinding so close up and Lydia winced. Then, before she could see the change in her opponent’s armor, a war maul, not two light swords, slammed into her guard.

Lydia’s smaller weapons were a poor match for blocking the massive hammer. The blow crashed through them and slammed into the green knight’s chest, throwing her off her feet. She crashed into a stack of tightly bound books, but quickly rose to her feet, her dual swords reshaping themselves into a single long-handled hammer to match her opponent’s weapon.

Erza, now clad in her yellow plate armor, charged at the stunned bandit like a freight train, armor rattling with her pounding steps. Eyes flashing, hammer drawn back, she readied a mighty blow.

It was an easy attack to read. Lydia spaced her feet out, ready to move to the side a moment before the maul swung down, then punish the scarlet knight with a counter blow.

The hammer swung, but glowed golden as it did. Erza lit up, her armor and weapon changing once more, even as the stroke finished its arc. The change came so quickly, it finished even before the blow struck.

The attack had started with a war maul, but when it landed it was with the light, razor edge of Benizakura.

Lydia tried to move out of the way but had anticipated the slower stroke of the hammer. The sword raked across the armor on her chest, splitting it and sending shards of green metal flying, biting into the softer skin beneath.

Crying out in pain and shock, the bandit queen threw herself backwards to escape and changed her weapon to match the katana. This time she staggered after her leap, her eyes wide. The Fairy Tail wizard had cut her. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but it was painful and she was bleeding under her armor, weakening her.

She gripped her sword with both hands, staring at her opponent with newfound wariness. She hadn’t thought it possible that anyone could requip so fast!

Across from her, Erza was likewise wounded and weary, panting even as she glared at her wicked opponent. The tactic had been successful, but it had required a good deal of magic when she was already weakened by Lydia’s attacks.

“Impressive. No wonder they call you Titania,” Lydia narrowed her eyes, “But how long can you keep up those quick requips?”

Mouth open, still breathing heavily, Erza’s eyes glared back without a hint of doubt.

“As long as I need to defeat you.” she declared, “That is what being a Fairy Tail wizard is. My strength comes from my friends, and as long as they are in danger my power is limitless.”

Lydia bared her teeth then barked out a laugh. Her boredom had been replaced with a wild hunger, her eyes shining and eager. She stared at her scarlet-haired opponent like a ravening jackal, her pretty features contorted with a mixture of rage and passion.

“Yes!” the bandit queen grinned fiercely, “That’s it! Show me, Erza! Show me all your power! Let’s see who really is the strongest!”

Erza burst forward with a war cry and Lydia charged to meet her, cackling madly.

----

Gritting his teeth, Loke the Lion, the last of Lucy’s celestial spirits still standing, crawled across the violet carpet, struggling to find the strength to rise. His celestial body was already breaking apart, motes of golden light floating away from him like the last sparks of a dying fire. In all rights he should have disintegrated and returned to the celestial plane, but his sheer will kept him corporeal, his desperation to help his wizard.

All the willpower in the world couldn’t help him when a glowing tentacle from one of Gutride’s demons pierced his chest, pinning him to the floor. He cried out, stiffening as he fought to maintain form, but it was the final blow. His cry became anguished as he burst apart in a shower of golden light, hundreds of sparks that floated away. They vanished before they reached the ceiling. Loke was gone.

Lucy watched it all through glassy, heavy eyes, her body entangled and held up in the arms of at least a dozen naked girls. Head nodding towards her chest, vision cloudy, it was difficult enough to focus, much less with the caresses and whispers of the girls surrounding her. Yet as drowsy and muddled as she was, she still knew something was wrong.

“No… L… Loke…” she mumbled.

At her faint protest, the whispers around her grew more vocal, cooing to her, soothing.

“Shh, it’s okay…” someone stroked the curve of her lower back.

“You’re with us,” a nuzzle against her cheek.

“Doesn’t this feel nice?” a hand smoothed over her leg.

Lucy moaned, a faint sound; it ended in a sigh. All the touches, the sweet words, the breath tickling her neck; it all made it so difficult to think. It felt nice, but it was smothering, overwhelming, like they were drowning her in affection.

Unable to focus on why she’d been upset, the peppy blonde closed her eyes and surrendered to it all for a moment. They held her like this, whispering and touching, then when she started to struggle they always put the scented cloth over her mouth, the scent getting into her head and making everything heavy and slow. She knew if they held it there long enough she’d simply fall to sleep, but they always drew it away before she could pass out entirely. They teased her in a state of semi consciousness, awake enough to understand but too weak to fight.

“There… it’s so nice…”

“Just relax… we’ll take care of you…”

Even as the girls held her, their voices were somewhat drunk or drugged themselves. They sounded dreamy, sluggish, in a trance of their own, puppets controlled by the same smothering pleasure that was threatening to overcome their captive.

But there was one voice that was still sharp and focused, teasing but aware, in control.

“Ah, Lucy-girl. All out of magic, hm?”

Lucy pealed open her eyes to see Gutride, having come closer when she saw the last of her captive’s spirits disappear. The villainess gently took Lucy’s chin, tilting it up to examine the pretty girl’s slack expression.

As she spoke, her voice was soft and lilting, like she was trying to lull a baby to sleep.

“You always were a little hottie,” she stroked Lucy’s jaw with her thumb, “You know, I’ve thought about you a lot. And I have to say, you’re even hotter now.”

Lucy’s eyelids began to droop, the baby blues glassy and far away.

Gutride tickled her under the chin, making her eyes flutter back open with a weak mewl.

“Your tatas are really impressive, Lu Lu,” the villainess cooed, “In fact, so are you. A lot more powerful.” She grinned, “Too bad it didn’t make a difference in the end.”

Lucy furrowed her brow weakly, trying to come up with a response. It took her a few seconds to comprehend what she was hearing and her lips felt numb, not to mention the distracting touches from the girls surrounding her.

“Nhhh… I’m… Fairy Tail… wiz-wiz’rd…” she moaned, “I… I’ll… s-stop you…”

Gutride chuckled, the sound a little purr. She leaned closer, her eyes lidded with lust as she stared at her captive’s drowsy distress.

“Still such a goody two shoes,” she whispered, tracing her thumb over the girl’s soft lips, “It used to be a little annoying, especially when you got me expelled. But now, I don’t know… it’s pretty damn sexy.”

Lucy managed to frown. That wasn’t how she remembered it. Gutride’s behavior had gotten her expelled, all Lucy had done was stop the mayhem Gutride had created and tell the truth when she was asked.

“I… I didn’t…” she tried to tell her, “You… we—RRMH?!”

Her words became a muffled squeak when Gutride’s lips pressed to hers. The villainess captured her mouth, pressed just enough to touch her nose to Lucy’s cheek, then drew back with a crooked grin.

Flushed at the sudden intimacy, Lucy stared at the other girl dumbly, her lips pursed in a little O. She blinked, looking more dazed than she had moments before. As plucky and sure of her feminine wiles as she was, she hadn’t kissed too many boys and the sensation was a shock, particularly from Gutride. She was so surprised, it hadn’t really sunk in what had happened.

Gutride giggled at her captive’s stunned expression, “Adorable. Hot, but still so innocent…”

Lucy blinked at her, still too stunned to react. The other girl’s violet eyes were so dark, penetrating, it was hard to look away. She felt naked in front of them, vulnerable, helpless. She couldn’t speak. All she managed to do was draw in her bottom lip and chew on it fretfully, eyes shining and still blushing pink.

Sensing their mistress’s mirth, the girls holding Lucy giggled as well, drunken tittering, stroking her hair and her bare skin.

“You are definitely going to be my favorite,” Gutride hissed, still grinning, “There’s so many things to do with you. Adding to my collection in more ways than one…”

As she grinned into Lucy’s drug-addled eyes, the villainess’s hands slipped down to her belt.

“Speaking of,” she cooed, “These keys look heavy. Why don’t I just… take these off you for a little while.”

She slipped the tongue of Lucy’s belt out of the buckle then gave a little tug, the metal parts as she undid it.

Lucy felt the initial squeeze of the tug on her hips then felt the belt loosen as the buckle came undone. It was somewhat a relief at first, one less thing weighing on her, but then she noticed something else: the jangling of her keys.

Her gate keys, kept in a little purse on her belt, opposite her whip, were by far her most valuable possessions. They weren’t just heirlooms, nor were they only things she’d fought and risked her life to acquire. The keys were her link to her celestial spirits, a physical manifestation of their contract with her.

As the belt started to slip off her hips, Lucy stiffened. She couldn’t let Gutride have them. She was still muddled and dazed, but something inside her screamed.

“N… no!”

Lucy lunged for her belt, her sudden burst of strength surprising Gutride’s slave girls. She yanked free and managed to grab one end of her belt, holding it in a death grip.

The girls gasped.

Gutride tried to slip the belt from Lucy’s fingers but was surprised how tightly the drugged girl was managing to hold on. She raised her eyebrows.

“Hm. Still a little fight left in you.”

Panting, the effort of holding onto the belt being herculean in her drugged state, Lucy glared.

“Never… luh-let…” she rasped, “You… have…”

She got no further before one of the girls pressed the cloth over her mouth and nose once again.

“Nhh… mhhh!” Lucy protested, trying to shake her head to rid herself of the smothering cloth.

The girls cooed to her, stroked her, and held it in place, not letting her get away.

“Gnhh!” their captive whined, struggling with desperate verve, “MMH!”

But they kept the cloth right where it was, gently riding her down.

Gutride watched with an interested grin. She could have taken the belt in both hands and simply yanked it free, but instead she held on and waited.

“You are just endless fun,” she whispered, “You try so hard…”

Lucy rasped through the cloth, fighting to breathe, fighting to resist the drug. She clenched her eyes closed, gave a hard jerk of her head.

“MM-NHH!” she cried out.

“But it’s already over, sweet cheeks,” Gutride grinned, “I beat you. And now it’s time to take what’s mine.”

She gave a gentle tug on the belt and it began to slip from Lucy’s fingers.

Lucy shook her head again, but the fight was bleeding out of her. Her body was softening, struggles becoming addled and confused. She continued to pant, whining desperately with each distressed breath, but her eyes were becoming unfocussed, her shoulders drooping.

Gutride slipped the belt a bit further from the drowsy girl’s grasp.

“Give it up,” she whispered, “Shhh… let go…”

Lucy made another plaintive whine of protest, but it ended on a high note, almost like a question. She was crying in distress, but had forgotten why she was distressed, only remembering that she had to keep whining out of habit.

Her eyelids drooped, her legs crumpling. She buckled and would have fallen to the floor, but the slave girls steadied her and held her up with amused giggles. Her eyes stared into a distant blur, more than halfway closed.

“Let go…” Gutride whispered again.

“Nnh…” Lucy let out a short mewl, a final whimper of protest. Then her eyes closed and her fingers relaxed, uncurling.

Grinning, Gutride drew the belt through her captive’s unresisting fingers with a faint hiss of leather on skin. It came free and Lucy’s arm dropped, hanging uselessly at her side.

Once it was free, the villainess grabbed one end and wound the belt around her fist, rolling it up into a neat coil.

“There we go,” she said to herself, “Mine now. Mine, mine, mine.”

Finishing the last circuit around her fist, Gutride slipped her hand free then held the bundle up at eye level. The purse was buttoned, but the sides were left open, allowing her to see the glittering golden keys inside. All twelve, the complete collection of the zodiac gates, the most powerful celestial spirits. She jiggled her prize, listening to the keys clink off each other.

“Mmm…” she chuckled to herself. She’d already made some powerful monsters with more common gate keys. With these, she could make some truly terrifying servants.

After a final jangle, she set the bundle aside and returned her covetous gaze to her other prize.

Lucy was entirely limp now, dangling from the slave girls’ grasps like a lifeless puppet. They kept her upright under her arms, but her torso hung down to make it appear like she was shrugging, her knees bent and turned slightly inwards. Her eyes were open to slits, her head being supported by the cloth over her mouth rather than held there, but still tilting to one side, heavy on her slack neck. The only movement at all was from her chest, still heaving deeply from her exertion.

Gutride’s eyes inevitably lowered to Lucy’s chest, watching it pump in and out, still frantic and ragged, her waking mind inert but body still reacting like it was in danger.

The breasts were distinctly large and round, held in a tummy baring tube top that was barely more than a bra. They seemed to swell and recede with the heavy breaths, the tips just poking through the white fabric, a blue heart on the space between them. It was almost like watching that heart beat, heavy bulbs pressing and fading, still standing proud despite Lucy’s slumped posture.

Giggling in good fun, the slave girls removed the cloth once it was clear the perky blonde was all but unconscious. Lucy’s head immediately nodded forward, chin bouncing off her chest before settling.

“Oh dear,” Gutride cooed, “You look like you’re a little of breath, Lu-Lu.”

She stepped closer and took Lucy’s vest, shrugging it off her shoulders.

“These clothes are just too tight,” the villainess grinned, “We’ll have to open things up a little bit. Let you breathe easier.”

With the aid of her slave girls, it was easy to maneuver Lucy out of her vest. They lifted her arms and slipped them through the holes, while some of the other girls helpfully drew off the stand-alone blue sleeves. The loose garments were tossed aside, then Gutride hooked her fingers inside the tube top and began wiggling it up to her shoulders.

“This is the main culprit,” she cooed, “So restrictive, squeezing those boobs of yours so hard. No wonder you can’t breathe.”

The slave girls drew Lucy’s arms over her head so the top could come over them, their mistress sweeping the blonde pigtails out of the way to work it free of her head. One the small garment was loose, Gutride balled it up and tossed it aside, eyes going back to the fruits of her labor.

The heaving of Lucy’s chest had slowed at this point, becoming the deep, relaxed rhythm of sleep, breasts held in a strapless pink bra.

“Better take the bra too,” Gutride giggled, looping her arms around the girl’s back, “Don’t want you to suffocate.”

The villainess had to press close to reach the clasp of Lucy’s bra, her own breasts pressing into her victim’s. She was close enough to see the shine on the heroic wizard’s inner lip, mouth hanging ajar, expression peaceful. The eyelashes fluttered slightly, a side effect of the drug, but the girl didn’t react to her invasive presence.

There was a bit of fiddling, then a small but audible click as Gutride undid the clasp.

“There,” she grinned, “Is that better?”

She drew the bra away and took a small step back, liberating Lucy’s breasts from their confines. Once free, they fell to the sides and bounced, clearly not having needed much support.

Gutride took in the sight with glee-widened eyes.

Perfectly round orbs, fair-skinned and ripe, with quarter-sized nipples the same pink as their owner’s lips. They pointed slightly to the sides, heavy and melon-like, rising and falling with Lucy’s breaths.

Gutride stared greedily between them, looking back and forth while she chewed on her lip. She had often wondered what they looked like under Lucy’s skimpy outfits, but she hadn’t imagined how delicious they would actually be.

Her hands moved towards them slowly, almost with reverence. She spread her fingers and encircled them, letting them nipples press into her palms. Then she squeezed, gradually letting her fingers sink in.

“Mmm…” Gutride licked her lips, “These are real…”

Her hands couldn’t hold the entirety of the orbs within them, some of the soft shape squishing out the sides. But as deeply as she squeezed, once she let go they almost instantly bounced back into their normal shape.

“Titsfeelia…” she giggled.

Reaching beneath this time, she cupped, supporting them. Then she pressed the soft shapes together, molding them, strumming the nipples with her thumbs.

Drugged as she was, the handling of her sensitive breasts still made Lucy tense with discomfort. As Gutride greedily squeezed, mashing them, pressing, the helpless blonde’s brow furrowed, wincing even in her half-conscious state.

“Nnnh…” she moaned, lashes fluttering.

Gutride looked up at her, surprised that the girl could even do that, with the amount of drugs she’d been dosed with. She waited a moment, then gave her breasts another squeeze.

“Nuh… unhh…” Lucy tensed. She began to squirm, drowsily trying to escape the uncomfortable groping. She even managed to lift her head, blinking her eyes.

Gutride watched, a grin slowly spreading on her features.

“Oh, poor Lucy. You’re so tired and I keep disturbing you, don’t I?” She slipped an arm around the girl’s waist, then said to her slaves, “Give her to me, girls. Here we go…”

Squeezing Lucy’s hips to her own, Gutride shooed the other girls away. They backed off with groans of disappointment, gaggling together and stroking each other for comfort.

Without the support of so many hands, Lucy immediately wilted with a groan, crumpling against her captor’s body. Miserable and weak, she lolled her head back, swooning over Gutride’s supporting arm, squinting and struggling to open her eyes. Her bare chest pressed out as her shoulders fell back, heaving with distress.

Gutride leaned down and pressed her lips to one of the round breasts, giving it a gentle smooch.

“You coming here was just too perfect,” she said as she looked back up to Lucy’s drowsy face, “Mirajane would have been such a hot little addition to my girls, but you… you’re that and more.”

Hugging the helpless girl’s waist with her arm, she let her hand slip down, then push up Lucy’s skirt, bunching it up to expose her white panties. She clasped the perky butt, using it almost like handle to keep the blonde supported.

“It’s so satisfying, paying back someone from your past,” Gutride cooed, “Not to mention sexy. The funny thing is if you hadn’t ratted me out, we might not even be here like this.”

Lucy mewled, managing to lift her head enough to blink at the other girl in drowsy discomfort. She understood the taunting tone, but didn’t know where she was, what was happening, or what she could do about it.

Gutride held out her free hand. On cue, one of her slaves placed the drugged cloth into palm.

“I could have been a guild wizard maybe,” she narrowed her eyes, “Instead, I was expelled and here we are. If that isn’t kharma…”

As Lucy stared, only making out every other word in her drugged gaze, Gutride pressed the cloth back over her mouth. The perky Fairy Tailer didn’t understand much, but she instinctively remembered the effects of the cloth and moaned sadly into it.

“I’m going to make good use of your celestial spirits,” the villainess grinned wickedly, “You’ll get to see what I do with them. I’m going to keep you around more regularly than my other girls. We have so much catching up to do!”

Lucy tried to turn away, but Gutride clasped the cloth firmly, not allowing it. She tried to grab at the villainess’s wrist, but barely managed to lift her arms, waving them about aimlessly before they began to drop.

Gutride squeezed the girl’s butt, grinning fiercely as her victim succumbed to her whims.

“Now it’s time for beddy bye, Lu Lu,” she hissed, “No more struggles. No more goody goody speeches.”

Lucy let out a faint whimper as her arms drooped to hang limp, darkness closing in on her. Her expression smoothed out, eyes drifted closed.

“Nighty night,” Gutride whispered, “When you wake up, everything is going to be different.”

Lucy didn’t hear the words. She breathed evenly, held slack in a deep sleep.