Subtlest Game: Book One - March of the Pawns

Chapter 14

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Jasmine fidgeted, unable to help it. She had a slight itch on her ankle, and she'd forgotten to scratch it before being mummified.
"Stay still." her mistress sighed, still casually encasing the Gumiho's torso in layers of rubbery deep pink material. This was liquid lust, a little quirk of Sin's abilities that allowed her to turn her seductive aura into a physical substance.
"Sorry mistress." Jasmine lowered her eyes, feeling a hot flush of shame. She hated to displease the succubus, but it was hard for an aeromancer like herself to stay still and allow herself to be entirely immobilised, if only for a couple of hours.

Sin tilted her head, crouched over the far shorter woman. Her attendant's eyes were already starting to glaze, the pleasurable power of her aura magnified tenfold when in physical form. To her mingled amusement and slight disgust, a slight line of saliva trailed down the fox woman's chin as her mind was overwhelmed. She wiped it away, ruffling Jasmine's fluffy ears.
"Just a couple of hours, pet." she murmured softly, standing up. Jasmine was left on the bed, encased from neck to toe in the shiny trap, like a fly caught in amber. With a final flick of her hand, it flowed over the Gumiho's mouth, silencing any protests she might have had. Not that any servant of Sin's would be disobedient (or foolish) enough to protest her actions.

Jasmine heard the door creak, then click and lock. An action entirely meant just to make her feel that much more helpless. She focused on breathing through her nose. Her mistress had a meeting with Ser Patrick and some other Overworld leaders of minor importance, and in Sin's own words, Jasmine was loyal, but had a tendency to give people a certain kind of look that rather froze the diplomatic atmosphere. Of course, the argument could be made that there was a better way to occupy the Gumiho than completely immobilising her and forcing her to endure burning pleasure for several hours, but that wasn't how Succubi worked.

The itch was getting worse, but Jasmine didn't bother trying to scratch it. Even if she had somehow been able to break the cocoon to scratch it, she was like this because that was how her mistress wanted it.

The pleasure was growing. It scorched her nerve endings. She needed something to distract herself before her mind and body gave out, and she either passed out, died or went insane.
She closed her eyes. Given her. . .arrangement with her mistress, many of her natural abilities were restricted. However, this one - besides her aeromancy - was still hers. A moment's pause, a flare of mental energy; and Jasmine fell through her own memories.

She found herself in a world of glass. It was a place of twisted, fragmented, endless shards interlocking, overlapping, twirling up and down, above and below. Jasmine suspected that someone more mathematically minded than her would find some kind of geometric pattern, but she'd never had time for that.

Images appeared in the shards: stealing a slice of bread on the streets of Dewfrost; first meeting Katie, head maid of the club and her adoptive mother; submitting to a life draining kiss from her mistress, eyes closed in a mixture of pleasure and shame. She began to fall, slowly, as if through water, though her surroundings felt lighter than air. Memories continued to blossom in the glassy depths, in no particular order, some distinct and alone, others blurring and bleeding into one another.

"Who are you, little one?"
Jasmine's breath caught, and she looked up at the shard. Her eyes widened, and her mouth went dry, but she'd never been one to disobey the whims of her subconscious. She closed her eyes, and sank into the memory.

The sweep of her broom rasped through the air. The smell of varnish, perfume, detergent and sweat mingled together, creating a strong but not entirely unpleasant scent.
She was twenty one, a street Gumiho who'd somehow managed to wander into the club, and had luckily been found by the head maid before the omniscient eyes of the club's mistress found her. It wasn't an easy life – sweeping, tidying and mopping was hard enough even when you weren't worrying about a demoness's claws in your back at any moment – but Jasmine, a veteran of the chaotic bandits and street gangs, found an odd solace in the monotony. She got up at six, breakfasted with the maids, swept the floors, tidied the beds and did the laundry while they were working, and at seven in the evening had dinner and a cuddle with Katie. Of course, the inevitability of being found by Sin loomed on time's horizon like the shadow of death, but with enough laughter and comfort it was easy to ignore. And even forget. Jasmine would often wonder, in the late evenings that followed, whether she'd forgotten that day. Whether she'd done something to let her guard down.

"Who are you, little one?" Jasmine didn't even have time to start at the silky voice before something thick and smooth, like a piece of rubber tubing, coiled twice round her neck and lifted her off the ground. She clawed at it, feeling the pressure increase on her windpipe, which merely produced a chuckle from behind her. She was turned round, slowly, like a doll being examined. A hand brushed through her hair, then through the whorls and currents of air that made her tails.

She was lifted higher still, and found herself looking into a pair of deep blue eyes, amused, but also cold as a glacier.
"Well? I asked a question." Jasmine kicked her legs. She'd never been tall – she'd barely cleared four feet last time Katie checked – and her dangling ankles were level with this woman's waist.
"I-I-" A pulse of strength ran along the tail holding Jasmine, circling her neck and forcing out a gasp.
"I suggest you answer quickly," murmured the woman, who Jasmine realised could only be Sin. "Or I might lose interest. And if you're not aware, sneaky little foxes whom I don't find interesting end up contributing to the club's range of clothing."

Jasmine moistened her lips, erratic little gusts of wind sending dust spinning across the floor. "I-I'm Jasmine."
Sin tilted her head, then inhaled with a smile. "Unimaginative, but fitting." her tail loosened, now more like a collar than a stranglehold.
"Now tell me, what is a little Gumiho like you doing in my club?" She leaned in to press her lips to Jasmine's ear. "Consider your answer carefully."
Jasmine could feel something happening in the depths of her mind, a slow, soft click of submission echoing across her inner world. She swallowed, aware of both a pall of fear in her stomach and a faint blush on her cheeks. Sin noticed, and smiled.
"K-Katie took me in..." whispered Jasmine, her heart thundering. It didn't even occur to her to lie.
"Katie..." murmured Sin. The demoness's tail tightened, causing Jasmine to give an involuntary gulp.
"Of course," Sin gave Jasmine a mockingly tender smile. "It's against the rules to raise a child in the club without my knowledge. So I'm perfectly within my rights to kill you here and now." she pulled Jasmine closer. "But a rare little treasure like you..." Her eyes flashed turquoise. "I've got other uses for you."

***

Jasmine surfaced just as Sin opened the door. She smiled down at the helpless fox woman, and Jasmine shivered.
"That's all cleared up then. Now, little pet, I'll keep you by my side for the meeting with Naeus."

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