A humble listing of female characters from a variety of media, whose kiss produces adverse effects on their victims.
Posts : 505
Join date : 2013-06-28
|Subject: Midara Mishaps Wed Jun 15, 2016 7:17 am|| |
Lester The Jester. The Living Punchline. I only ever put up with it because it nets me a free drink and a new friend at every tavern.
You all know how my story starts. I was once the entertainer and advisor to a minor nobleman. A jester can backtalk only because he is inherently ridiculous. He packages wisdom in jokes and riddles, and thus can offer counsel without making those higher in station lose face. Well, this time my advice actually did lead to the nobleman losing face.
His marriage had turned cold and loveless with age, and it's unwritten protocol that a nobleman will take on a mistress at such a point. He did not have any male heirs, however, and feared that a mistress could get pregnant with a boy, thus forcing him to take a bastard into his household. What were my words again? "If you are going to do wrong right, why not take on a mistress of the night?" I did not have much knowledge of midara. Beings who lived of sexual energy, and best of all, could not get pregnant, but where instead forced to convert other species into their kind. He took my advice, somehow figured out how to summon a succubus, and before we knew it the whole household fought to death over who could be the perfect loveslave to the creature. Turns out the cook was pretty good with the kitchen knife, and my former lord had to have a close-casket funeral.
I fled and was luckily able to escape the charms of the seductress, but not long afterwards one of her new thralls delivered a delightfully perfumed "thank you"-note, along with an invitation to join her for a real thank you any time I desired. If she could tug at the heartstrings and cojones that well in writing, I'd surely stand no chance if I ever encountered her in person. Sadly enough, the thrall had not been shy of evangelizing about the magnamity of his mistress' offer in all the inns on the road to my current location, and that's how my reputation came into existence. Ruïned from the start.
So now I live from job to job, hand-to-mouth. Or mouth-to-mouth, as my reputation doesn't just precede me among men, but also among midara. My fate is a joke, but at least my life's interesting, and what am I if not an entertainer? Take a load off, or perhaps get a load off, depending on how much this excites you.
Our world is one of adventurers. Wizards seeking knowledge, paladins seeking helpless to help, clerics seeking converts, but mostly just people looking to get paid. The inn thus becomes a center of commerce for these types, not always of the reputable kind. It's a public secret that tavern wenches often make a few coins on the side, so that's probably where the midara got their idea from. The Third Leg, they called their little enterprise. An out-of-the-way inn that still managed to attract a stable base of clients.
I came to the Third Leg during my wanderings in the vain hope of getting away from my recent past. A place I could not be the Living Punchline for an evening. The place in question was nicely furnished, perhaps a little too clean. The staff was all composed of beautiful women in blouses and skirts with a tight bodices, aprons optional depending on what their tasks were. Green colours for the waitresses, black colours for the maids. There were 12 or so patrons sit in groups or alone in the dining hall, and they were plied generously with drink. I dumped my bags in my room and decided to spend the time with a mug of ale, since entertainment had been announced and I enjoyed not being the source of it for once.
The moment I arrived one of the maidens of the inn climbed upon a small stage at the back of the room and announced: "Welcome, gents, to the Third Leg! We thank you for your patronage and hope you enjoy the show!" She then began singing a bawdy tune, soon accompanied by the mugs of the patrons slamming on the table in rhytm with the song. As to her singing, I've heard better and worse. The evening proceeded with me getting a bit more plastered as she went from one raunchy classic to the other. Eventually, I joined in myself even. It was near midnight when she clapped her hands for silence, and made a small speech. "Thank you, you were a delightful audience. I hope you all still have some energy left for the next part of the evening. You see, it's one thing to sing about bawdy topics, but it's another matter entirely from doing them. ~and these songs always get me in the mood...~" She bit her lip while she said this while her hands disappeared under her skirt.
The atmosphere had changed entirely. Everyone was fascinated by the sudden change in demeanor. Midara can turn their glamour on and off in order to fit in better in society, I would later learn. How had I not noticed how attractive she was before? Brown curls framed a heartshaped face with half-lidded eyes that oozed lust. Her lithe body shuddered as she started to please herself with the fingers of one hand. The other reached backwards to the laces of her bodice...my mind raced back to the material she had covered in the evening. Horny maids, lustful tavern ladies, romance and ribaldry..had she been singing about herself all this time? My mouth became dry and my mast rose in my pants.
Of course, the inn was entirely staffed by midara, so while the one on the stage had us distract, the other ones had snuck into the dining hall and each had paired off with one of the patrons. A stunning redhead with an ample bosom plopped into my lap with a fresh mug of ale. A husky voice whispered into my ear: "She's not the only one in the mood, handsome. Here, have one on the house!" She forced the mug to my dry mouth, and I eagerly took a gulp. She took one herself, before her lips descended upon mine. A drunk makeout session followed, and I wasn't sure if the ale or the charms of the redhead made me feel woozy and in the clouds. With an audible sound she freed my mouth from hers, and dipped her forehead against mine. In a dreamy voice, she asked: "And what is the name of the man I'm going to make love to tonight?" "Lester", I slurred. Her demeanor changed from seductive to enthusiastic in an instant. "Lester The Jester? In the flesh? Ohmygod," she shrieked. That was enough to break any spell she had over me as I suddenly came to my senses. She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door of the dining hall, deftly dodging the various couples and couplings scattered across the room. I could only gawk in amazement at the weird orgy I had been roped into. "You have to meet the boss, she won't believe you're actually really here!" the redhead babbled more to herself than to me.
The boss in question was leaning against the frame of the entrance, looking pleased at the display around her. She saw us coming her way and offered me a stunning smile. Really, if the brunette and redhead had been hot, this blonde put them both to shame. Pigtails, an even skimpier version of the uniform than the rest of the pack, long legs, ample bust and buttocks, she was indistinguishable from any other midara who molded herself after commonplace ideas of female beauty. Meaning I would probably have sold an arm and a leg in order to have a chance with her, of course. I can't fault these creatures for sticking to what works.
"Rayne, you have to meet this guy! Says he's Lester the Jester, and I don't believe he's in any state to lie about it!" the redhead piped up when we reached the creature. She looked from the redhead to me before asking in a beguiling voice: "Are you the one they call the Living Punchline?" I eagerly nodded, rattling off my story and how I came to find this inn, wanting to impress her with my not-so-impressive background. She hushed me with a finger to my lips, and I shuddered at the contact. "Alright, I believe you. Few men can lie when in the presence of my beauty, and you certainly don't seem like the type to have such fortitude. I am Rayne, owner of this establishment, and let me personally welcome you to the Third Leg, Lester," she spoke warmly. Suddenly her expression turned predatory as she yanked me forward on my half-mast. "Personally...welcome," she emphasized, and my knees nearly buckled. "You can wake him up in the morning," she dismissed the somewhat disappointed redhead, whose sour expression turned into a smile at the statement.
Rayne grabbed my hand, put my arm over her shoulder while she walked in front of me and led me up the stairs. Each shake of her shapely rear made me anxious about what was to come. I barely paid attention to her words: "I don't know if you know, but you're pretty famous among the midara, Mr. Jester. Thanks to your actions, an entire county has become the new domain of the succubus named Leanne. After she sadly indirectly offed your former master, she turned the place into a garden of pleasure. Such a shame you haven't returned to visit yet, I'm sure you'd agree that it's a paradise on earth under new management." We arrived at the room I had rented before I knew it. Seeing my belongings scattered across the room, I was briefly alarmed that I had been robbed. "Hmm, one of the maids must have gotten noisy. I'll scold her for it," Rayne said with a hint of irritation in her voice. It seemed jarring realizations messed up midara mind control, as my sense once more returned to me. "Ehmm, not to sound impolite, but wonderful as your company would be, I'd like to leave with my will intact," I weakly offered. Rayne looked at me incredulously and let out a melodious laugh.
She started explaining: "Oh, you indeed live up to your name, Lester. Despite the horror stories, even us midara aren't capable of destroying free will. Our charm magic can be addictive, but so can alcohol, and you were eager to get lushed tonight, weren't you? I know you'll hardly believe me, but the unfortunate fate of your former master probably came down to boiling resentment between him and the servants and a weak character as much as the pushing of the succubus he summoned. You're free to leave if you want to, but where are you going to go in the middle of the night?" I briefly mulled this over. If midara truly could destroy free will, why would they bother with the teasing and theatre? Some folks would succumb to their charms more easily, but you had plenty of tales about adventurers defeating them, right? There was the possibility of harm, sure, but then again, risk had been an element of my entire life until now. In the meantime, the beauty had started to slowly undress, so that might have had a bit of an impact on my decision. Erect nipples by candlelight do a number on any man.
I slowly walked into Rayne's arms as they came around me like a snare. My eyes fought between peering into her eyes and staring at the rest of her body. She closed the distance between us and kissed with a kiss that banished all but her from my world. Sorry if I turn towards the poetic here, but there is not really a good way to describe it otherwise. I still remember each imprint, as if her lips where touching my soul directly. The oddest thing was how in control I felt. Like I could escape at any time, but I felt no need to. I snuck in a joke about how she must've trained the rest of her staff, which made her blush, although I'm pretty sure she faked that to please me. Needless to say, she was eager and skilled. Her rapturous kisses and voracious unmentionables made it so I had to disappoint the redhead in the morning (or at least until she insisted the sword was not the only weapon in my arsenal). Though my feet may not wander towards the Third Leg anytime soon, my thoughts often do.
Well, there you have it. I blame residual charm magic if that didn't have enough nasty details for you. Still, this was mostly a set-up. After all, something was missing from my supplies, it turned out later, and it wasn't nicked by a curious maiden of the tavern. No, this was only the start of a much bigger adventure, if randomly bumbling about the boonies can be called such.
Posts : 505
Join date : 2013-06-28
|Subject: Re: Midara Mishaps Fri Jun 17, 2016 10:46 am|| |
You're probably dying to know what was missing, and you're going to laugh, I just know it. All of my smallclothes, along with the letter that the succubus had sent me. That may not seem like a big loss, but the thought of some pervert sniffing or selling my worn underwear disgusted me to the bone. Perhaps it's odd to feel violated by this specific thing when my life consisted of regularly being jumped by midara, but that's different. Call me superficial.
Now, after informing Rayne of the precise nature of what was stolen, her eyes lit up and she deduced that it must have been a gang of midara bandits in the nearby hills. One of them must have infiltrated the staff, she theorized. After a goodbye that was almost tearful in the sense that I wanted to tear my clothes off and bed her again, I went in the direction she pointed me to, my balls going blue both from the strain of pulling away from her as well as the sudden cold in my pants.
What, you didn't come sit here to hear about bandits? Then what did you want to know? The Black Baron's spring dance? Oh man, how did you figure I was there? Rumours have a life of their own. Anyway, that evening was quite a blur. It all started when the Black Baron requested my presence at his yearly shindig.
=Having A Ball==
The Black Baron gets his name from his dark sense of humour, and the crisp outfits he wears. His lands are somewhat isolated, so every year he has a spring dance in order to introduce his sons and other gentry of the area to ladies of stature from all over the realm. They come from far and wide, mostly because those from the city turn up their nose at it, considering even locals with a title country hicks. I was mainly there to entertain the guests with the tragic story of my former employer, since the baron had always disliked him and thought the way in which he met his end was hilarious. Ironic, given the way the evening ended for himself.
Midara are proud creatures. Aside from needing the energy of our lust, they simply enjoy the effect their presence has on us men. They love any excuse to doll themselves up, and dances are an ideal excuse to go out of their way to do so. If they see seduction as a battle, brushes and tubes of lipstick are the weapons, and skimpy dresses and lingerie their armour. I don't know how they managed to co-ordinate it, but every single lady on the guest list turned out to be a midara. Had the noblewomen been corrupted? Had they simply charmed the servant in charge of the guest list? I'll never know, but with their powers anything is possible.
Anyway, the spring dance was an exclusive gathering. On the bachelor side, there were three of the baron's sons, three well-off merchants, a visiting diplomat, and two guildmasters. On the ladies' side, I did not know the ranks of the women, but six seemed to come from local areas while four hailed from farther away: one dusky like the desert tribes, another caramel like those from the southern continent, one from the islands and the final one appeared to be from the Jadelands. Whether they really came from there is another matter, as midara can alter their appearance on a whim. As part of the spring dance, between each song from the phonograph the partners switched and had some time to chat before the next song came on. Sometimes a lady excused herself to reapply her beauty products, and then the Baron, who overlooked to whole scene, would gesture for the free man to come over, and I was forced to regale the tale of my former master's desire for the umpteenth time. Still, the food was good and I had a soft bed that night, along with the promise of some coin, so I wasn't complaining. I didn't even have to wear my jester's outfit, instead donning a rather stiff jacket and pants, all black like the Baron's.
After I was telling the story for the seventh time, this instant to the foreign dignitary, I noticed the ladies had gathered together in a circle, whispering amongst each other. The men were observing at a distance, and the phonograph had fallen silent. One of the damsels, a blonde, stepped out from the circle, and announced: "We'd like to thank you for inviting us to this dance. So far, we're having a wonderful time. We've all prepared a little routine for you gents to enjoy as a thank you." The Baron looked surprised but curious, and the rest looked pleased at the kind words. I had a nasty feeling about it, so I moved a bit away from the place where the Baron and the diplomat were standing. The ladies made two rows of five in the middle of the hall, one standing, and one slightly crouched. The blonde who had spoken before said: "The routine is called Spring Fling, and I'm sure you'll love it." At that moment, the midara revealed their true nature.
Ten hands moved to ten mouths, and ten soft kisses were given on ten palms, before ten arms bend backwards and ten hearts in colours matching the dresses of the beauties were flung in the direction I had just been standing in. Before the Baron and the diplomat could dodge, the barrage exploded around them, veiling them in clouds of multicoloured gasses. The two men coughed and choked, before slumping down. Once they were visible again, the rest of the room could spot the blissful expressions on their faces as they lied down, completely high on charm magic. Not surpressing their glamours anymore, the midara had gone from pretty to positively radiant, and the rest of the men were staring fascinated at the temptresses pairing off with them. I made a beeline for the door without glancing too long at the fair creatures, and forgot that with one of the bachelors out of commission, there was now a spot to fill...
...A vision in a yellow gown floated in front of me, hovering a feet above the ground. Her raven hair was done up with a diadem with rhinestones in it, and bobbed up and down along with the magic that kept her afloat. Gentle green eyes looked fondly at me, and her lithe frame made me suspect she was a sylph of some sort, though I'd never heard of them having such a tawny tone. Opera gloves adorned her hands, and she offered me one of them. "You're not thinking of leaving just when the fun's about to begin, are you?" she calmly asked. I could only shake my head as I put my hand in hers and was lifted off the ground. My heart also felt like it was soaring, but whether that was the spell or her charm I did not know. In the air at her level, we assumed a waltzing pose as she guided me back to the center of the room, our eerie, airy dance effortlessly cutting over the crowd below. Amid the freefloating swirls and spins, the brown beauty bragged: "The Spring Fling is a wonderful thing. First you'll get one kiss from me, then we all switch and you get two kisses from your next partner, and so on. By the end of the evening, you'll surely fall forever for your final temptress." And then she slipped into my lips, blowing slightly as she smooched me, the sensation sending a whirlwind of wandering impressions through my brain. Pleasant breezes on a summer day, vertigo as I walked mountain paths in the wind, a gale bringing the smell of brine on a beach, all of it led back to her. She was the embodiment of the vivacity of the elements. Our kiss ended as landed on the ground again, and before I could recover she put my hand in the one of my next partner.
In a fluid motion, my new redheaded partner spun under my air, her hips moving gracefully along with the otherworldly music the phonograph was now playing, clad in a blue mermaid dress that moved along perfectly with her slender body. "Come on, put some life into it!" she admonished me with a smile. Her stunning face made me rush to follow up on this, as I copied her movements and we slipped between the other dancing couples. She spun away from me and back to me, like the tide of the sea. "That's more like it! Here, loosen up a bit!" She plucked a wine glass from the table and took a big gulp, before tossing the glass to the side and using her now free hand to grab my hair and crush her lips to mine. I'm not an expert in wine, but the fragrance and taste of the liquid she forced into my mouth was most pleasant, and I swallowed it without coughing. It must have been a particularly strong brand, or else she enhanced the effect of it somehow, because my head suddenly became even woozier. I looked at the ravishing woman that I was dancing with, at every inch of her beauty, and she noticed, laughing: "Oh wow, you're nearly drooling. That's flattering, no, really! Drool is one of my top three favourite liquids! Can you guess the other two?", she finished suggestively. She then licked the corner of my mouth, emitting a pleased sound, before going into a fantastic French kiss. I felt like I was plunged and submerged into a warm bath, relaxing completely under her marvelous ministrations. I kissed back as best as I could, for which I was reward with a brief comment of "~ooooh, you're making ME wet now~". Before things escalated further, I was ripped away from the redhead as something wrapped around my neck and pulled me backwards.
I spun around and was caught by a buxom blonde with a long braid. The braid seemed nearly sentient and snaked away from my neck the moment I was in her arms. Our foreheads leaned against each other as blue eyes drilled into me and a breathy voice whispered "Caught you!", before my captor gave me a sensual peck on the lips that banished the memory of my previous partner from my mind. The blonde also made me dance, this time a rhytmic quickstep to a suddenly speedy beat. "Do you like dancing with me? Is your heart beating faster and faster along with the music?", she teased in the same husky whispers. Her curves pushed against me through her form-fitting gown, and glittering purple stripes on pink accentuated every one of them. I muttered a meek "yes, I think..." in response to her forward behaviour, and she seemed a bit miffed at my lukewarm reaction, opting to go for another kiss with more tongue this time. As she smothered with her smooches, her braid slithered down into my pants and wrapped itself around my member, massaging it with tantalizing tickles. No relaxation or romantic feelings like my previous enticers, just pure waves of lust to get lost in. With a pop, the blonde moved away from. "That's it, feel my everything. I'm not gonna let you make it to the end of our game if it's up to me," she announced, eyeing my half-mast. "Now kiss me like you mean it or I'll stop milking you," she followed up with a threat, her braid loosening its grip around my schlong. In that state, she didn't have to tell me twice as an animal urge came over me. She responded in kind and her deft tongue vied with mine for dominance. This was war, us two tangling to see which one would be first driven to release. But before things could escalate too far to go back, the blonde was tapped on her shoulder. She tore herself away from me and glared at the midara who had interrupted us. She pushed me away, and I wanted to violently attack whoever had come between us until I saw her. A hickory hottie who I wanted to hickey, my lust transferred in an instant as I shambled towards my next partner. The blonde harrumphed and snidely remarked: "Don't ever think she can top what I just did to you. You better hold it in until the end of the game, as I'm not done with you." I almost turned around again, ready to respond to her racy remark, but refrained when I saw myself reflected in round eyes.
Posts : 616
Join date : 2009-11-11
Age : 27
|Subject: Re: Midara Mishaps Fri Jun 17, 2016 9:28 pm|| |
Great stuff! I'm really enjoying these
|Subject: Re: Midara Mishaps Today at 12:53 am|| |