kinkfest | Dragon Quest VIII (Evil Jessica/Eight/Angelo/Yangus) (Reply)

Title: Spellbound
Author/Artist: dragovianknight
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: There is no consent here. This is so far from consent, you can't even see consent from here. Heavy on the mind control and the fucking. M/M/M rape, F/M rape, voyeurism.
Word count: 2223 words
A/N: Beta'd by queenoftheskies and evilmissbecky. Any lingering errors are, quite naturally, on their heads, but I'm sure they'll try harder next time. (What?)
Prompt: July 10 - #9 - Evil Jessica/Eight/Angelo/Yangus: Mindfuck/Mind control - just a bit of fun before I go.

She took Angelo first, of course. He was pathetically easy to manipulate, thanks to the withdrawn silence she'd maintained while they traveled from the Dark Ruins to Argonia, anxious to offer comfort where none was wanted. A bit of well-timed silence, a lowered gaze, and he was hers, bound helpless even before she loosed her magic.

Eight next, led from the stables almost as easily as Angelo had been led from the pub, despite the distraction of that damnable horse princess. She considered killing the creature and having done with it, but this body was stubborn; unlike the jester, who had reveled in the power of bloodshed, this one fought fiercely enough to stay her hand when it was raised against the others. It would take time to crush that will completely. Until then, their lives would be spared.

But that didn't mean she couldn't have a bit of fun with them.

She had left her room intentionally dark, so that she could savor the shock in Eight's expression when she lit the lamp and he saw Angelo, naked and on all fours in the center of the floor, his own expression hidden behind the curtain of his silver hair. Eight had time to look at her, to start to ask a question, and then her magic wrapped around him as well, rendering him silent and still.

She took the sceptre from its spot by the door - it had been out of her hands too long, and this body was fighting hard to regain control - and ran one carved end down the length of Angelo's back, hard enough to redden the skin where it passed. "Angelo, I think you should make sure Eight's comfortable while I go fetch Yangus." Angelo tried to resist, more despair than defiance, and she savored the taste of it echoing down the lines of magic which bound them. Then she rapped him sharply on his finely curved ass, and put more force into the spell.

Angelo crawled across the floor, slid his hands up Eight's thighs and began to unfasten his trousers, while Eight fought - and failed - to move his hands enough to push Angelo away, managing only to tangle his fingers in Angelo's hair. The sight of them together, as much as their fruitless resistance, sent a thrill of pleasure through her, and this body - young and strong and new - echoed and amplified that pleasure to genuine desire, warmth pooling low in her belly, nipples tightening as she absently stroked herself through her blouse.

Her eyes narrowed and she smiled. Perhaps she would have more fun with them than she'd anticipated.

"Yangus." He was stuffing his face at one of the tables in the inn's common room; the witnesses - sober, unlike the ones who had seen her lead Angelo away - meant she would have to play this carefully. "Have you seen Angelo? Or Eight?"

Yangus shook his head, attention firmly on the food before him. "The guv's prob'ly out tendin' to the 'orse princess, and Angelo..." He gestured with a nearly eaten piece of roast chicken. "At least 'alf a dozen pubs 'round 'ere."

A moment to plunder this body's memories, and she had her plan of attack. "It's just...they both offered, if I needed to talk..." The tremor in her voice required nothing more than a slight relaxation of her will, enough to let some of her host's desperation escape. The tears were harder, when she wanted to laugh at the foolish lot of them. "I thought I was all right, but since we beat Dhoulmagus, nothing's been the way I thought it would be."

The audacity of telling him the truth very nearly ruined her performance, but Yangus proved as predictable as her stolen memories had promised, too flustered by the threat of her tears to notice such subtleties. "Oy, it's nuffin to be so upset about, right?" He patted her shoulder awkwardly and scrambled off the chair, the piece of chicken still clutched in his other hand. "Come on, I'll 'elp you look for 'em."

She pressed a hand to her face to hide her smile and nodded mutely, following him out of the room. It was only when they were away from people, in the quiet area near the stairs, that she wrapped her magic around him and guided him up to her room.

Eight was still where she had left him, though Angelo had stripped him completely naked; even the red bandana had been removed and tossed onto the pile of clothing. Angelo himself had withdrawn nearly halfway across the room; after his clothing or after his sword, it mattered little.

"Really, Angelo," she chided, crossing to kneel beside him. She stroked his cheek, amused by how he tried to turn his face away. "A pity you defied me. And when I had such lovely plans for you, too."

She caught his hair and pulled his face toward her, while her body's previous owner railed and fought. There was the briefest moment when the woman's struggles and his combined to make her fear she might lose both, then she claimed his lips, and he had coveted her body's touch far too long to be unmoved, even under these circumstances. It was distraction enough to let her retain her hold over him, and she ran her hands over his skin; her body responded as she pressed closer, grief, shame, and desire echoing up from her host.

"I would have kept you for myself," she said when she released him. "But I rather think you need to be taught a lesson first."

She rose and turned toward the others. They were motionless, her dolls to play with, but their eyes reflected their disgust and fear.

"Angelo, I think Yangus is a bit overdressed for our little party." She reached for the sceptre, fingers caressing the smooth, carved wood. "You need to correct that."

He obeyed readily, though she couldn't tell whether it was because of the distraction she'd provided, or if he'd simply exhausted his strength fighting her. Yangus was, as expected, the easiest of the three to control, and before long he was as naked as the others.

"Now, I want you to make him hard," she said, a smile curving her lips. The end of the scepter stroked up Angelo's thigh. "By whatever means necessary."

Angelo shuddered but complied, hands and then mouth coaxing Yangus erect. She rubbed up against Eight, turned his head until he couldn't avoid watching. "He looks rather good that way, doesn't he?" she whispered in his ear. She ran the carved head of the sceptre down his chest, his stomach, lower, teased him with it until he was half hard. "Do you think he learned that in the abbey? At his brother's hands, perhaps?" Eight made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, and she kissed his shoulder. "Wherever he learned it, I suspect you're going to enjoy that pretty mouth of his. Yangus certainly is."

Indeed, Yangus was going to be useless to her plans if Angelo didn't stop soon. "Enough." The sceptre landed across Angelo's back, welting the pale skin, drawing a grunt of pain past the spell, and he sank down, once again huddling on all fours.

She abandoned Eight, moving to press up against Yangus instead. He was flushed; she couldn't tell if it was from fighting the spell, or from what Angelo had been doing to him. "Kneel behind him," she commanded quietly, "and I want you to fuck him until he screams."

Angelo's head came up - it would have been a startled jerk if he hadn't been fighting the spell all the way - his eyes wide and panicked. "Don't worry," she said, as Yangus took his place, one broad hand settling on Angelo's hip. "Your mouth will be far too busy for you to make enough noise to draw attention."

She settled on the bed, laying the sceptre aside so she could more easily shift her skirts out of the way, run her fingers across the firm young flesh of her current body while she ordered Eight into position. Angelo's hands settled on Eight's hips; the fingers of one hand twisted her nipple through her thin blouse, while the nails of her other hand scraped lightly up her inner thigh. Angelo took the tip of Eight's cock into his mouth; her fingers teased the tight, damp curls between her legs. She shuddered with anticipation.

"Yangus," she said; her voice cracked and she nearly wept. The hand toying with her nipple moved to the sceptre, curled around it tight enough to hurt, and the urge passed. "Now, Yangus."

No finesse on the bandit's part, just a single hard thrust that rocked Angelo forward, and Angelo likely would have screamed, even with Eight's cock rammed down his throat, had the spell not held him fast. As it was, his hands dug helplessly into Eight's hips, nails leaving bloody scratches behind as the pace Yangus set rocked him back and forth.

Hand still tight around the sceptre to ward off the screams that wanted to escape, she began stroking herself, fingers sliding inside her wet folds, back out to press and circle and explore. Pleasure and resistance rose together, and then Yangus was pulling Angelo tight against him, big hands nearly covering the bruises already darkening where he'd held the younger man still, and Eight's seed was spilling from between Angelo's lips, and the resistance broke and faded with something like a wail of despair, leaving only the pleasure.

Yangus withdrew and let Angelo collapse to the floor. The sight of him, curled in on himself and shaking, blood smearing his thighs, sent a spike of pleasure through her, and she drove her fingers deeper, moaning. Close now, so close...

Eight dropped to his knees, healing magic trailing from his fingers before she could stop him. With a snarl, she jerked her control tight again, but the tension in her had shifted to a restless frustration she could feel beneath her skin, a frustration her own touch did nothing to alleviate.

"Damn you!" she snapped, rising from the bed and smoothing her clothing back into place. "Clean yourselves up and get dressed. Angelo, come here."

He didn't even fight her, crawling across the floor as if he still hurt, though she doubted Eight's spell had left behind any physical injuries. While Eight and Yangus dressed themselves, clumsy under her control, she ordered Angelo onto the bed; even spellbound, he was dark eyed and shaking, broken sounds slipping from his throat, and she regretted that as her magic faded, so would their memories.

Perhaps, though, she could yet make use of Eight's defiance in healing him.

Without warning, she dragged her nails down his face, the marks curving from below his eye to the corner of his cock-swollen mouth, and left him curled in her bed; he might not remember when the morning came, but he could wonder what he had done, if he was the reason she had left them. Yangus and Eight trailed her down the hallway like obedient dogs, until she pushed Yangus to stumble back to his room. The fool probably wouldn't even suspect anything had happened.

Then she and Eight were alone outside his room, and when she pushed him back against the wall there was fear in his eyes despite the spell.

"You thought you could stop me," she whispered, leaning close. "Foolish little boy."

She kissed him hard, biting his lip; the taste of blood eased her frustration, and she began to feel the stirrings of desire again. Even better, her host's strength seemed to have fled; there was not so much as a whisper of protest when her hands caressed Eight through his trousers and her magic made him hard again.

He walked into the room ahead of her and stripped at her command, but the illusion of willingness bored her now. She loosened her magic just enough to let him resist when she pushed him back onto the bed; he twisted and fought against unseen bonds and choked out half-uttered curses, and she laughed with delight as she straddled him and took him inside her.

He was trembling with exhaustion by the time she finished; her host body was weary, too, and aching in a way she found most pleasurable. So many advantages to these human bodies, she mused as she dressed; it would almost be a pity to abandon this one when she awakened her true form. She would definitely have to experiment with it further, before that day came.

Almost, she wanted to keep them...but no. The magics she had woven on their journey had been an indulgence she could afford while they escorted her in precisely the direction she wanted to travel, but, now triggered, they would require far too much energy to maintain past dawn.

There were three heirs still alive; she had no more time for games, however entertaining.

Jessica straightened her clothing and leaned down until her lips were beside Eight's ear; he tried to flinch away, but for now, the spell still held him fast. "It's a pity you won't remember this in the morning," she whispered. "Except maybe in your nightmares."

She stole one last kiss, and, laughing, left the inn.