Day 11: Alp, Paladin Sergeant, Pregnancy/Mother Figure.
Day 12: Dark Priest, Cleric, Orphans. Fauxcest, Coitus, Stripping, Age Regression (Old to Young Woman).
Day 13: Phantom Ship, Paladin, Possession. Bodyswap, Giantess, Threesome, Fellatio, Snowballing.
Day 14: Shoggoth/Alp, Spy, Tomboys. Gender Transformation, Fellatio, Casual Use, Casual Sexism.
Day 15: Angel, Succubus, Anal. Reverse Corruption, accidental anal, sexual exhaustion.
Day 16: Raiju, Dark Sorceress, Bondage. Nipple and Genital Piercings, electrical stimulation, masturbation.
Day 17: Automaton, Artificer, Sex Machines/Mindbreak. Sexual Exhaustion, Cum Milking, Orgasm Denial.
Day 18: Doppelganger, Jock, Traps. Gender Transformation, Coitus, Fellatio, Casual sex.
Day 19: Ushi-Oni, Diplomat, Combat Sex. Metaphorical Emasculation, Humiliation, Public Sex.
Day 20: Queen Bee, Druid, Multiple Hand Massage. Mind Control, Objectification, Breeding.
Day 11: Alp, Paladin Sergeant, Pregnancy/Mother Figure.
“Come on, boys, you signed up for this, you can quit any time you like!”
Sweat poured down my forehead as the drill instructor’s words rung in my ear. Each of us was in full plate, sword and supplies on our backs. A hundred pounds, all told, as we jogged through the center of the city. Our tormenter kept a blistering pace behind us, dressed in full battle armor and with a rod in one hand. When one of us lagged behind the others, we’d receive a damn good thrashing for our troubles, blows of the rod leaving us stinging and cursing as we sped up again. We’d been running the last five miles, and my knees were beginning to buckle. I heard the heavy thuds of the madman’s footsteps as he started approaching again. I began to put on speed.
There was a sudden twist of pain, and I fell to the ground, cursing and clutching my knee. “Are you taking a dive on me, recruit? Think we’re having a friendly little soccer match here and the ref’ll call you out if you can’t get up?”
“No sir.” I winced, trying to stand, my knee crumpling under my weight, forcing me down onto the ground, hissing. “Think I tore something, sir. Heard a nasty pop.”
“Oh, suck it up, man.” The sergeant looked up, eyes harsh. “Oy! You lot! You’ve got five minutes half-pace to get ahead of me while I take care of this! If I’m not exhausted by the time I catch up with you, I’m going to be thrashing the hindmost!” They immediately began off again. The sergeant looked down at me again, and frowned. “You know, this is a lot easier to do when you tell me your knee’s giving you troubles. You’ve got to know your limits, boy, or you’ll give me a right pain in the ass.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly, rolling his eyes.
“Sorry, sir. Didn’t realize how bad it waaaah…” I closed my eyes as the sergeant’s hands rested on my knee. There was a flowing sensation of warmth, comforting and gentle. All the brutality in the sergeant seemed to disappear when he did his healing. Repairing the wounds, and leaving my body as fresh as the day I’d started training to be a Paladin. The drill sergeants had to master healing magic, and he was the best. “Thank you, sir.” I started to stand, and he put a hand on my shoulder, keeping me down. “Sir?”
“You’re trying to make up in determination what you lack in genes.” I winced. It was true. The sergeant was a bear of a man, a good six and a half feet tall, with shoulders like a bull moose. I was nearly a foot shorter, and not nearly so gifted physically. “What’s driving you, son?”
“Suppose I have something to prove, sir.”
“Do you, now?” The man smirked. “Then down on the ground, and give me twenty! Best to check to make sure whether there are any other nasty faults there before I get you running, and your squad-mates will be thankful for the rest.” I nodded, turning. My knee didn’t even twinge as I put myself into the pushup position. There was a solid metallic clank as one greaved boot came down on my back, and I grunted as I forced my arms into full extension under the weight. “You want to be better than the others, you’re going to have to push it, lad!” He roared with laughter as I ferociously struggled against the additional weight.
There was a sudden sharp scream from nearby. I turned, eyes widening. The weight was gone from my shoulders as I saw the sergeant charging down the street. A massive cloud of smoke was visible from several streets away, filling the air above the city. It was a disturbing purple color, like the miasma of plague. I was on my feet and after him in a few seconds, pounding down the pavement.
It was pandemonium. A tremendous dark fire was consuming a building, ravaging timbers and devouring slate, eagerly reaching out towards other buildings. It was all shades of purple, bright and shining, and painful to look at. A flickering flame reached out, and landed on a woman. She let out a shriek of terror which devolved into a long, lustful moan, her clothes burning off in a wild surge of fire. Wings sprouted from her back, a tail with them, curled rams horns emerging from her dark hair. She hurled herself at one of the other paladin recruits trying to put out the fire, and barreled him down to the ground.
A woman emerged from the flames. Her hair was red, her body covered in thick black tattoos, an amused expression on her face. She was naked. Her body almost seemed human, save for the flickering lines of purple flame that wreathed her. “Come, come, these buildings are so drab, so full of stuffiness. Let’s get things changed up!” She drew a hand back, and a long line of flame leapt from the burning building, landing on the next.
The sergeant leapt at her, bringing his training stick down in a two-handed grip. She side-stepped him neatly, her fist coming around in a back-handed blow that dented his steel plate, throwing him to the ground. She turned slowly, eagerly eying the men in the crowd, until she saw me. “Well, hello there, handsome.”
I froze. It wasn’t a proud moment. I tried to lift my sword, but my arms wouldn’t move. Fear kept them at my sides, as the monstrous Ignis strolled towards me, an amused expression on her face. “Stay away from me,” I hissed, but she just laughed, resting a hand on my cheek. It was terribly warm. There was a momentary sizzle. My armor fell to the ground, straps burned through, followed by my sword.
“Oh, come on, you don’t mean that. You’re a man. Every man enjoys the touch of a good woman.” She stepped closer, grinning. “Or at least, by the time I’m finished with you, you certainly will.”
I tried to step away, and my feet grew tangled in the pile of armor. I fell back, hitting the cobblestones hard. The monstrous woman stepped over me, grinning. That’s when the sergeant struck her in the midsection, bowling her over, and driving her to the ground. Fire raged and burned around the two of them, as she let out a shriek of anger, striking out at him, but not quite managing to land a blow. He delivered another blow, knocking her for a loop, and then staggered to his feet. I managed to catch him under one shoulder before he fell, rushing him along beside me. He was lighter than I would have expected, his armor hanging loosely. I prayed he hadn’t been harmed too badly as the two of us ran. Flames kept leaping up out of new buildings, the demonic inferno consuming entire districts. We had to get out, to find somewhere safe, and report to our superiors. I set him down, still in his armor, on the back of a cart, and spurred the horse on while dressed in nothing but underclothes.
Three hours later, we were most of the way out of sight of the city, and I finally relaxed, my heart pounding. Those strange purple flames rose and consumed the city, leaping from building to building, and I felt a little sick in the pit of my stomach. That was a year of training that had proven remarkably useless in the face of the enemy.
I let the horse continue cantering slowly along the road, and climbed into the back of the cart. The sergeant lay across a bundle of hay, still fully armored. I had to check him, to make sure he wasn’t hurt, to provide first aid. He hadn’t made a noise since the woman had ignited him. I lifted the helmet.
Nothing lay within.
I screamed in agony.
“FUCK’S SAKES, recruit!”
The voice emerged from the breastplate of the armor. One of the arms rose somewhat limply, a glove falling off, as the sergeant’s yanked off the breastplate. His face became visible again, uncovered by the breastplate. His features were broadly recognizable. Strong, rough cheekbones and a stubbly chin had become soft and feminine. Short cropped black hair now hung like a raven waterfall across the chest. Muscle had been replaced with soft, smooth flesh. A pair of modest A-cup breasts that I knew he’d not had before were on display, his padded undershirt hanging around his shoulders, the neckline now so wide that it fell down to around his elbows. Pretty blue eyes stared up at me. “Fuck. Did my armor get damaged? It feels loose.”
The voice was soft and feminine, but the tone was recognizable. A couple of octaves higher, breathy and gentle, but still recognizable. “Sir, you’re…” I reached down into the crotch of the armor, and squeezed somewhere. The sergeant’s voice raised in a high squeal, and she tried to slap me. The heavy armor kept her arms pinned down, and I frowned. “You’re a woman, sir. Good gods, you’re a succubus.”
“Well, damn it.” She shrugged out of the armor, squirming a bit. I tried not to stare. She was shorter, now, nearly a foot shorter than me, and cursing like a sailor. Invectives that would’ve been frightening and intimidating from the sergeant before were curiously appealing now. “No use crying over spilled milk. We’re on our way towards the nearest outpost, right? We’ll have to storm the city, get control back, all of that nonsense. Wonder how the hell they managed to make a strike this far from the front lines- What in the hell are you grinning at, private?!”
“I just…” I tried to kill the grin, but I couldn’t help it. “It’s kind of interesting to be this much taller than you, sir.”
She narrowed her eyes, and stepped forward. I took an involuntary step back, and found her ankle hooked behind mine. I tumbled back onto my ass, as she took a firm step forward, her delicate foot resting on my manhood. Even with all of her weight focused there she was light and warm to the touch, but she still managed some intimidation with her hands solidly planted on her hips. “Private, you appear to have forgotten that I am your superior officer! Simply because I have tits, a cunt, and a waifish appearance does not mean that you have any right to sass me! Now get those pants off, proper!”
“Don’t you ‘Sir’ me! That was an order! I may be a sissy succubus, but I am still your superior officer, and I am goddamn starving!” She hooked her big toe into my pants. She stood there in the overlarge shirt, and nothing else, her creamy thighs visible. A year of solid training kept me from questioning the order, however. I tugged down the hemline of my underwear, and exposed my groin. That’s when I realized that I had a rather pitched erection, my cheeks flushing. “Well, private, I see you that you can still stand to attention! Good to see there’s still a little respect for me.”
I tried to open my mouth to complain. She dropped onto my lap immediately, and silenced me with a kiss. Soft, warm lips pressed against mine, large eyes almost glowing as her tongue slid into my mouth. Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me around until I was on top of her, her legs spread around my waist, a grin on her face. The tip of my shaft pressed against her sex. I’d had my fair share of visits to the brothels of the city, and if there were any differences between the sergeant and any of the other women I’d fucked, it was definitely in her favor. She ran a fingertip across my chin, smirking. “Now, don’t think that just because I’m a succubus, your training is finished.” She let her eyes wander down across my chest, to my hips. “I want you to do some pushups.”
“How many, sir?”
“Oh, just keep going. I’ll let you know when it’s enough.”
“Alright, men, keep moving, come on! You think that you can slack off just because I’ve got child-bearing hips? If you get beaten to the finish line by a pregnant woman, there’ll be hell to pay!”
I puffed hard as I did my best to keep up the pace. Of course, I was at something of a disadvantage. The other men had gotten a long, full night’s sleep. I’d been kept up.
My eyes flicked over my shoulder to the sergeant. Her armor had been refitted, and was significantly smaller now, though the plate over the stomach had been removed, exposing her round, pregnant belly. She glowed, and not just with sweat and barely restrained anger. The thought filled me with a warm spot, and gave me the energy to keep moving. To prove that she was still a great drill sergeant, even after what had happened.
“Hey, recruit!” She gave me a grin. “You got time to stare, you have time to exercise! Now drop, and give me twenty!”
I flushed as the other recruits chuckled, very softly, so as to avoid her anger. Then I turned in place and ran back to her. I was up for the personal attention. It was worth it to put in the extra effort.
Day 12: Dark Priest, Cleric, Orphans. Fauxcest, Coitus, Stripping, Age Regression (Old to Young Woman).
“Mother Dansel!” The Mother of the orphanage stood in the doorway, smiling gently. I tried not to wince. Mother Dansel had been the mother of the orphanage for sixty years. Even when I had been a child, she’d looked frail. Now that I had turned 18, she was clearly suffering from the harsh caresses of time. I stepped up to her, and put my mail-clad arms around her as gently as I could, crinkling her shapeless dark robe. Despite her weakness, she still stood straight, and returned the hug with gentle good grace. Pretty blue-gray eyes met mine. Those, at least, had not grown any weaker with age. She still had the hawk-like sight that caught boys with stolen sweets. Of course, they had also found bullies and cruelty with unerring skill, and varnished those things away with her gentle disapproval. There were worse lives for an orphan than growing up under Dansel’s gentle hands.
“My sweet boy. Come, take a step back, let me look at you.” She stepped out of my arms deftly, and placed her fists on her hips. She slowly let her eyes run up along my legs, all the way to my head, appraising me. “Goodness. They feed you well as an adventurer, don’t they? You are going to make your poor Mother feel guilty about undernourishing you, growing so big and strapping. Ah, but I do not know if there was enough food in the city for you!” She smiled. “We are making some coconut rice curry tonight. Please, come, come in.” She took my hand in both of hers. Two years since I’d left, and I still felt like a kid again around her. But my mouth watered at the offer of the curry.
Her hands were rough from years of hard labor providing children with the love and attention no one else could give them. Her skin was darkened and spotted in places from decades of exposure to the sun. And yet, despite the frailty, she held my hand firmly, and her palms were surprisingly warm. “Have things been alright here? I’ve been sending back what I could spare, I know it’s not much-“
“Hah! Such guilt, my child.” She smiled warmly at me. “We have had full bellies because of your hard work. You are such a good boy, working so hard for your Mother. I am so proud of you.” I tried not to let my eyes tear up, and failed miserably. She reached up, and gently brushed a tear away. “I know you walk a dangerous path, my child. You do it in order to help protect us. I couldn’t take that away from you. But I am so glad to see you again.” She sighed softly, brushing hair out of her face. It had long turned silver with age, haloing her head in slender, brittle strands. “I hear so many worrying stories of monsters, snatching handsome young men like you. Of course I would not judge you, whatever wife you bring home.” She winked at me cheerfully. “But you still have not found a woman?”
“Yeah. I know, I can’t rely on you to take care of me forever-” I stopped, and winced. She laughed, and stood on tiptoes. I crouched down, bent at the knee, and let her plant a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Bah. I have many good years still left in me. Being around children keeps me spry.” She winked, and then tugged me along. “Come, come. I want to hear all about your stories first. Permit me a little greed.”
The two of us sat down in her room. A simple cot, stiff and uncomfortable, was her sole concession to the need to sleep. A large bowl of coconut rice curry sat on the plain and unadorned table, and she took a large spoonful, sipping from it. When she handed me the ladle, I did the same. I was transported back to a thousand memories of childhood, and of Mother Dansel. I took another ladleful of the curry, and handed it back to her. She sipped it, and let out a slow, surprisingly feminine moan. “My child… when did you grow so handsome?”
I frowned. There was a strange, slippery feeling in the air. Almost like humidity, or rain, making my fingertips feel slick. My head was warm, my cheeks flushed. It was so hard to concentrate. I looked down at the spoon, trying fuzzily to think. “Mother Dansel, I confess, the ride here must have been more exhausting than I thought, I could fall asleep right where I sit-“
My eyes drifted up. Mother Dansel watched me. Her hands were folded in her lap, a smile on her face. “I am sorry, my child, for being so rude. I could not resist. I thought I was stronger, but you are so handsome, so kind, so strong. Going out, fighting. Preserving those who are weak. It is amazing how strong you grew up to be. And I fear that you became the kind of man I cannot resist.” She stood up, and there was a great deal more grace in those movements. No frail dignity, no gentle uncertainty. She drew a hand across her face, and it was as though a mask had been removed. Her hair was still silver, but it was lush, rich, full, hanging in great curls around her face. Her skin was as smooth as the surface of a cup of coffee, her skin a milky brown. Those sharp blue eyes met mine, as she smiled. “Forgive me, my child.”
Her lips grew plush even as I watched, turning a bright pink. Two long horns rose out of her hair, straight and proud like those of an antelope. A tail lashed and swung through the air behind her, cutting at the air with swift whip-crack movements. She let her eyes run up and down my chest, licking her lips with obvious hunger. “How did this happen to you?” I asked, my voice down to a hiss. “What monster did this to you?”
“Ah, some of the children are not all human.” She smiled sweetly. “It was not their fault. They are children. You wouldn’t harm children, I know.” She slowly bent forward. I watched, as she took great handfuls of the robe and slowly lifted it. Her feet were exposed first, pretty and brown, soles as soft as cotton. The smooth curves of her calves, and the plush roundness of her thighs were revealed. I tried to turn away as she exposed her crotch, but I found I couldn’t. Shaven clean, smooth and untouched, the view made my heart pound, and my erection stiffen. The feeling of arousal at the sight of the woman who had raised me, who had been my mother in all but blood, filled me with shame. But that didn’t make me any less aroused.
“I can smell how much you desire me, my child. Don’t worry, I am all too eager to reciprocate those desires. Just feeling you embrace me like that, holding your hand, sharing an indirect kiss… You teased me so, my child. How could I not want more?” She giggled, and continued lifting the robes. Finally, her breasts were exposed. She hadn’t worn a thing under the robes, and her figure was exposed fully now, smooth, curvaceous, and mouth-watering. The robes bundled up and caught over her breasts, nipples as tanned as the rest of her. She’d been doing her gardening in the nude, it seemed.
“This is wrong,” I murmured softly. “You take care of children. You’re not some soul-sucking monster. This can’t be you.”
“Well, I don’t intend to suck your SOUL, my child. And you have said it yourself, you haven’t found a woman. I thought, if you settled down with some human, or some monstrous lady, I could let it go. I could accept it. But here you come back to me. A year as a succubus… It is difficult, you know, to hold back the desires. The cravings. They’re so powerful, sometimes, it eats away at you.” She sighed, and ran a hand down my stomach, to settle on my crotch. “I need to get fucked senseless, my child.”
She unzipped my pants, gently fishing my cock out. It was already hard as a rock between her graceful fingers, and her warm breath wasn’t helping matters any. Her soft skin pressed against my knees and thighs, her breasts gently settled on my lap, as she began to lick at the very tip. “I’m shorry, I’m not ve’y ‘ood at thith,” she said, as her tongue played across the shaft with a virtuoso’s skill. “I ‘aven’ ‘eally p’actithed.”
I tried to respond, only to be silenced by her slowly swallowing my shaft down to the very base, lips pressing against my crotch as her nose tickled my stomach. Her head bobbed up and down in quick movements, silver hair trailing across my legs. It was almost enough to distract me from the pleasure of the blowjob. Nonetheless, I found myself quickly losing control, my breathing growing faster, one hand wrapping around one of her horns, the other settling on one of her breasts. I hated myself a little bit for what I was doing, but I wasn’t stopping.
Ironically enough, she was the one to stop me. She lifted her head off of my cock with a wet smack of her lips, and climbed up onto my lap. I could remember watching her struggle to climb a step-ladder when I was a boy. Now, she moved with all the grace, agility, and raw sexual hunger of youth. She straddled my waist, and descended with a single smooth, wet movement. Her warm, gushing pussy clung around my shaft, clenching and squeezing hungrily, and she already seemed as close to orgasm as I was. I tried to grab her shoulders, to push her off without hurting her, but she just slid her arms around my neck, clinging to me tightly. I couldn’t stop her without hurting her, and I was increasingly unsure I even wanted to stop her.
My train of thought found itself ruined as she began nuzzling at my throat, planting dozens of gentle, wet kisses. Her hands were searching over my back, her hips swaying back and forward. It was not what I would have expected from a succubus. Each movement was small, gentle, showing no hurry or ferocity. Nonetheless, each twitch of her hips pressed my erection against the soft flesh of her womanhood. It drove me half-mad, trying to concentrate even as she began to moan and clench, the stimulation unbearable. I growled and cursed as I grabbed her hips, squeezing her tight.
The moment of orgasm was desperate relief. The release was enough to leave me panting and gasping. Mother Dansel was cuddled up on top of my lap, seed dripping out of her tight slit, an expression of absolute satisfaction on her face as she made soft noises of pleasure, face pressed against my throat.
There was a knock at the door. “Mother Dansel!”
She was up in a second, robes dropping, hiding the mess of her thighs. She gave my cock a quick wipe with the underside of her dress, slid me back into my pants, and was at the door in a second, no sign of our tryst. Two children, one boy, one girl, were standing outside. They couldn’t have been older than eleven. “Grigori, Pieta, what’s the matter?” The two children exchanged a glance, and then looked at me. “It’s alright. He’s the one who’s been sending us money to repair the orphanage, and to get that nice food. He grew up here, too.”
“We heard weird noises. We were worried that you two might be fighting. There was a lot of yelling!” Pieta said. I tried not to blush, and failed horribly. Mother Dansel just giggled softly.
“Oh, that. We were remembering funny stories. Nothing to worry about. Come now, dears, we’re having a good meal. You will have plenty of time to hear his stories soon.” She smiled, and ruffled their hair, leading them back to their rooms. I sat, and ate a few more bites of the now-cool curry, thinking momentarily about running from the building and never returning. I looked up as she returned to the room.
“You were just like I remembered with them.” I frowned. “You’re still you, aren’t you?”
“Mostly. I am sure that before I was made a succubus, I would not have made love to one of my former wards. Though if I were to have chosen one, it would be you.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “I would not ask you to stay here, I know you cannot. But I hope you will visit more frequently. I could use some visits from my dear child. It gets so lonely, you know, and the taste of you was… exquisite.” I flushed, and swallowed.
“I… planned to stay for a couple of weeks before moving on.” I looked down at the food, and took another bite of curry. It tasted no less satisfying for having just fucked the woman who made it. “And if we do something again… I couldn’t say no to you.”
She beamed with happiness, and for a sweet moment, her presence felt as young as she looked.
Day 13: Phantom Ship, Paladin, Possession. Bodyswap, Giantess, Threesome, Fellatio, Snowballing.
I took a slow, deep breath. This was rather a change of pace from the last ten minutes that had been spent with my lungs gradually filling up with blood, making each breath shallower and weaker than the last. I had died in the line of duty, which was precisely what I had expected. It had happened in this graveyard of ships, trapped by rotting planks and crushed by a twisted hull, which I had only half-expected. And now, I was breathing comfortably again, which I’d absolutely not expected.
I stretched an arm experimentally, and there was a great creaking of wood. The planks of the ship arched and threw off their barnacles, as moss and lichen-covered decking shuddered momentarily. The rotting sails stretched and grew, the tatters of canvas filling in even as I tried to spread my fingers. Every muscle I had was lying halfway through the planking, unresponsive. Every movement I took was now being carried out by the ship.
The thought brought my perception back to my body. Errol stood over it, tears in his eyes. He’d stood by my side, keeping me company for the time it had taken me to die. It had cost him dearly, I knew. He was the leader of the small band of refugees who I had been shepherding to safety. Ten days travel through the wartorn lands of this cursed country, and we had both felt the looming specter of failure. Now, he thought he was alone. I could see him wipe the tears away from his eyes, and stand up straight. Refusing to let himself be bowed by the pressure, or to show a weak face to the frightened refugees. We’d been searching for a ship that would be sea-worthy. And now, I was a ship that was sea-worthy.
“Errol.” The whisper ran through the ship. Rustling canvas, creaking boards, heaving hull, the sounds all came together as I spoke. He stood up suddenly, spooked, eyes wide as he looked around the deck. He shook his head, and I spoke again. “Errol.” He took a step back, and I felt a sudden twisting sensation.
The planks of the hull shifted, pushing upwards. I emerged from the deck slowly, rising up. A body, of sorts, composed of the same material as the ship. Soft canvas skin, cedar flesh, and green hair made from strips of lichen. I realized that I was nearly twice my normal height, and quite naked, but those concerns seem to have faded with my body. Errol drew his sword, taking a step back from me, but then frowned. “Candice?”
I slowly licked my lips. My head felt heavy, memories distant and difficult to access. I knew enough to know who I was, what I was now. But it was difficult to express myself. “Head’s fuzzy.”
“Oh god. Candice, I’m so sorry-“
“Nnn. We need to get the refugees to safety.” I experimentally flexed, and the ship shuddered, shifting in the surf. Holes were patching themselves, wood growing and warping into place. My body healing itself. “Get the refugees together. I can sail us. I think. I…” I frowned, feeling. I couldn’t control myself, not entirely. “You. You need to be captain. I need a captain to sail. Ship’s…” I frowned, the words coming from somewhere deep in my wooden heart. “Ship’s gotta have a captain.”
He nodded, and stood straight. Something about his bearing made my holds and bulwarks quiver slightly. I had found him a respectable enough man when I had been flesh and blood. Nothing particularly special, but kind enough. Now, in the strange state I had been placed in, I was finding myself more attracted to him. He was my captain. The thoughts were coming from my new body, thoughts that had been engraved into it in its years of service. The thought that I was feeling such intense sensations born of this monstrous form was disturbing.
I knew what I was now. One of the Phantom Ships. A seafaring vessel given mind and purpose by death. I was a rotting hulk of wood and canvas, animated by an echo of a soul. The thought was painfully melancholy. I had lost so much, and I would never recover it now. The only thing I could do was my duty. Fight my way through the seas, take these innocent people to somewhere they’d be safe, and then scuttle myself on the reefs. Take my own life, and refuse to become the monstrous tempter that my new body wanted so badly to be.
The revelation was both painful, and freeing. I knew what I had to do now. I had experienced a brief reprieve from death, which would allow me to complete my mission. There was satisfaction in that, if not happiness.
“What about your body?” Errol asked, eyes flicking back to it.
“We’ll throw it into the sea when we’ve put out. It’s not as if I have any use for it anymore.”
He frowned at that, but didn’t argue with me. He simply climbed down the side of the ship, leaving me to my work. The simulacrum I used was slightly clumsy because of its size, but it let me repair the damage to my body. Patching holes too large to heal, setting planks back in place where they had warped. The mindless work allowed me to fade away from my situation, to ignore what was happening. An hour or two later, as the half-dozen or so refugees carefully climbed across the adjacent hull towards my deck, I finished the last of the repairs. Errol gave my simulacrum an odd look as he made his way to the ship’s wheel. My simulacrum began to push, my body arching, shoving myself off of the light shoals of the ship’s graveyard. The ancient hulls creaked and shook as I left them behind, the ship making its way out onto the open sea. As we passed into deeper waters, the thick cloud-cover gradually bled away. For the first time in weeks, the sun became visible through the clouds, shining down on us.
Errol stood at the ship’s wheel, carefully guiding us along a parallel course with the coast. He checked a compass that had been scavenged from another ship, and gave me a quick, furtive look. His brows were knit. “What’s the matter?”
“I am worried about you.”
“The worst has already happened. I think that there’s little left to be worried. I have a chance to carry everyone safely home. Why worry?” I shifted my stance, creaking slightly as I did so. The sensation of his hands on the wheel was… Well, what it reminded me of most was a dance, of all things. Having a man take the lead, his hands on my hip and my shoulder, guiding me through the movements. I knew exactly where I was supposed to go anyway, but having that little gesture of guidance had made such a difference. I noticed he was looking at me strangely. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, you were just… breathing heavily.” I stiffened slightly. “At any rate, we should be able to hold our course for the rest of the day. I fear I need some sleep.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at one of the women. “Keep us on a steady course; Wake me if there’s any trouble.”
I walked alongside Errol as the two of us made our way towards the stairs leading belowdeck. “Something’s bothering you. What’s the matter?”
“You’re too fatalistic. I’m worried you’re going to do something to yourself. I don’t want to lose you, you know. You’ve been the only person who’s kept us alive through all this.” He frowned, staring out at the sea. “And I wish you hadn’t thrown your body overboard before we got back.”
I froze at his words, as he walked down into the hold. I turned my head back towards the deck where my body had been. I hadn’t really been paying attention to it. It was a husk, empty, lifeless, meaningless now. It was also not where I had left it. I frowned, and extended my senses throughout my body. There was no sign of my body. Had it been thrown overboard by someone else? Had I discarded it, and not even realized?
I walked down to the captain’s quarters, lost in troubled thoughts. That was likely why I didn’t notice the sound of moans and coos until I opened the door.
My body lay in bed with Errol. It was a small bed, which meant that the two of them were entangled quite thoroughly. His expression was slightly dazed. My body was completely naked, which gave me a good look at it. Gone was the terrible sucking chest wound that had killed me. My skin had gone from tanned and tough to smooth, slightly moist, with a pale blue tint. My hair hung in stringy black loops around my head, messy and sea-salt-soaked. And I was most certainly not controlling those hands which stroked and caressed along his stomach and over his crotch.
“Captain!” I raised my cannonball sized hands, clenching them into fists, taking a step forward.
“He’s MY captain,” said my body, eyes narrowed. “And you’re not even going to use him! Look at you! You stole my hull, and took my rightful captain!” She let her tongue slide out, running across his cheek. It was almost black, smooth and slick as she let a trail of saliva drool down his neck, her hands intimately exploring him. “I was supposed to be the one who was going to carry him to safety, and you stole that from me. So he’s going to be mine! You keep refusing to even have your way with him, even though he wants us so badly!”
“Sorry. I got careless when I saw her in here,” Errol said, smiling apologetically. My eyes flicked down to his crotch, where his erection was already straining at his pants. “There’s a certain irony in all this, I think.”
“You’re… the ship?” I stared, my head spinning a bit. “You took over my body?”
“You did it first,” she said accusingly, her eyes narrowed. “I’m the Intrepid, alright. You stole my hull, and you’re not even expressing your feelings for your captain. What kind of ship are you?” I watched, feeling faintly aroused and violated as she unzipped Errol’s pants, strong hand gently scooping his cock out, beginning to stroke and tease it with her finger-tips. “Ships are made to serve humans. In any way that they need, for as long as they need. I know what you’re planning, I could feel it radiating off of you while you were stealing my hull. You think that this human’s going to stop having a use for you once he gets there?” She softly nuzzled his ear, blowing into it, her eyes still fixed on mine. “You don’t deserve to have such a kind captain.”
“Is that true?” Errol asked, his brows knit in concern, even as he shuddered a bit in her hands. Focusing on me, even with that soft, human body pressed against his back. The thought of it made my stomach twist with jealousy, and the realization that it was jealousy was… unsettling.
“I’m… not a human anymore. I can’t be human again. I’m just…” I looked down at the rough canvas skin, the wooden form. “I can’t even be with you.”
“Oh, please, as though he doesn’t enjoy running his hands all over you,” the Intrepid said with a smirk. “You’re just making excuses because you’re nervous. You’re afraid of being a proper vessel for him, of letting him control you. But you know how good it felt to have his hand on your wheel, didn’t you?” She grinned. “It can feel even better than that.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, my head swaying with the movement of the water. If I’d had a heart, it would have been pounding.
“Come on. I know what men like. I served them long enough. And Errol here wants you. And me, of course.” She grinned. “A man can be captain for more than one ship, after all.”
I looked at Errol. Maybe I was hoping he would reject the idea. Maybe I was terrified that he’d reject me. I didn’t see any rejection in his eyes, and I swayed forward, as though blown by the wind in my sails. Bent low, each footstep was unsteady, my head lowered to avoid striking the deck above. I fell onto my hands and knees in front of the bed, my head lowered, inches away from his crotch. Her hands busily worked along the length of his shaft, stroking him to full erection, and gently slapping the tip against my nose. Maybe I would have complained, but the scent of him, of a man who had been hard at work and soaked with salt, was engraved into my hull.
I wrapped my lips around the tip, and the groan of satisfaction that came from the base of his chest made me shiver. The Intrepid’s hands gently fondled and stroked his balls as I took his manhood between my lips, sucking ferociously at it, head slowly bobbing up and down. The salty taste of his arousal made my thighs grow wet, and I confess that I lost myself in the experience of sucking him off.
“Go on. Take her head with your hands. Guide her. It’s what she wants.” I faintly registered The Intrepid’s words, just as Errol’s hands rested on the back of my head. He squeezed them gently, guiding my lips along his cock. I let him do it, enjoying the sensation of being guided, of doing precisely what he wanted. My eyes closed, the sound of groans and pleasure filling the air as I focused on the task before me.
It came as something of a surprise when he came. Salty and bitter, his semen filled my mouth to the brim, bulging my cheeks, long ropy strings of it splattering across my tongue, the taste deeply satisfying. Before I could swallow, the Intrepid’s rough hand yanked my head up, off of his cock. Thick dribbles of semen splattered down my chin, where she licked it from my face, before kissing me hungrily. Her tongue dove into my mouth, trying to steal the hard-earned seed. Even as I growled and struggled, trying to keep her from stealing what I had gotten, I realized what I was doing. When I finally managed to wrestle away from her, swallowing hungrily, I looked up at Errol with an abashed expression. I found him smiling, stroking my hair tenderly, his expression fond as he stroked me.
I realized, then, that I was lost. I was a vessel, now. With the soul of a human, maybe, but no less a ship for it. Less than a person, but still something precious.
“My captain,” I whispered softly, and rested my head on his thigh.
Day 14: Shoggoth/Alp, Spy, Tomboys. Gender Transformation, Fellatio, Casual Use, Casual Sexism.
“Hello, ma’am.” I smiled brightly at the woman in the dark robes. She had the traditional dark attitude of the Welsh, tainted with a heavy dose of cultish unpleasantness. The black knife in her hand was probably not for slaughtering chickens for dinner. “I’m here from the British Broadcasting Corporation, because you haven’t been paying your license fee. You know, the great selection of fine British programming would not be available without license fees begrudgingly forked over by citizens like you. I’m sure you don’t want to be taken into custody by the BBC, so perhaps you’d be willing to tell me when we can expect the money?”
“Ia,” she said, and raised the black stone knife. I took that as probable cause and slugged her across the chin. This proved to be insufficient persuasion, and several more blows had to be levied against her before she decided to take the hint. I brushed my torn knuckles with a handkerchief, and frowned past her into the interior of the stone farmhouse, grabbing her cloak as I passed by.
MI666 had given me this assignment earlier in the week. People had been going missing in the small Welsh hamlet of Llrdwrrydfrrdprrd, and bones were turning up, black as coal. Now, I had been playing this game long enough to know that while not every strange and unexplainable death was the work of horrific deities from beyond the stars, it was better safe than sorry. It only took one star-twixt god with a hard-on for corrupting the earth to lead to everyone having a jolly helping of black pudding for the rest of their lives, as the MI666 manual so euphemistically put it. I was on this job because I was the man in the right place at the wrong time, and because I was well known for having a way with the Welsh, as I’d just demonstrated.
The old farmhouse was ninety-percent stone. The remaining ten percent was tar, straw, and gewgaw. That was not so suspicious. What was suspicious was the rather obvious trap door leading down into the basement. Wales is coal country, or rather was a long time ago. Nowadays, it’s mostly lack of coal country, which makes the country below the grass something of a warren of dark paths into the deep earth. Everyone talks up the ability of Dwarves to dig too deep and too greedily, but when you compare them to good old Homo Sapiens, they are paragons of geologic virtue and mineral restraint.
True to form, the trap door opened onto darkness that was both stygian and abyssal, in roughly equal proportions. A ladder plumbed the depths with all of the grace and charm of a German dentist, disappearing into shadow after a few feet. It was an annoying habit of the dark things of the world to enjoy those places where good old British eyesight was heavily curtailed. I grabbed a hooded lantern from the wall, checked the oil, and lit it. The oil-fire gave the darkness enough texture to maneuver down the ladder into the caverns, and that appeared to be all the compromise I was going to get with the shadows at the moment.
The ancient walls were thick layers of sedimentary stone. Great layers of coal had been yanked out where the miners had found it convenient, and the floor had been polished smooth by all the ominous black robes that had been rubbing along them. I pulled the dark cloak over my suit to hide my identity. It wasn’t really my type of fashion, but when in Rome, wear a godawfully tacky black toga soaked in the rich aroma of sheep-dip.
The low sound of chanting filled the air, notifying me of two very important facts. First, I was close to whatever base of power this cult was using. Second, they had absolutely no sense of rhythm or harmony. I pulled my hood down low, and followed the sound of the chanting past a number of bas-reliefs that were both cubist and realist.
The chapel itself was rather nice, in the classical Anglican style, although the local parish priest appeared to have made a few changes. The altar was a rather torrid iron affair, coated in thick reams of rust and jagged hooks. The stained glass windows were filled with rather unpleasant imagery of a nature both sexual and satyrical. There were quite a lot of pictures of young maidens without much in the way of clothes, and very uncouth things being done to them. A large bubbling pit had been installed in the center of the chapel, filled with what looked rather like iridescent tar. And of course, whoever ran the place had sunk it several dozen feet below ground, which didn’t seem like it fit the proper serial-monogamist divorce-mongering principles of the Anglican Church.
Half a dozen cultists stood, even now, around the bubbling pit, chanting in some low tongue. Sibilant hisses and rolling syllables filled the air, and I was given to suspect that the language was some cousin of Welsh, possibly gifted to sheep-herders in aeons past by monstrous entities of vicious demeanor. It would explain so much about the country. I slowly paced around the outside edge of the circle, moving with the deliberate confidence of someone there with a job to do, and knelt by the altar. It wasn’t just rust on the altar. Seems that I’d been on the money with my suspicions about an unnatural origin to the bones being found.
“Sister, what do you think you’re doing?”
I turned. One of the cultists had broken away from the chanting circle, and now stood over me. I coughed. “Well-“
“You’re not Sister Myrry.”
“Well, funny thing about that.” I lashed out with an uppercut, laying the man out on the floor. I pulled the hood back, and in a single smooth movement, had the derringer in one hand. I didn’t like to threaten people, but sometimes you have to brandish a gun at a few eggs to make an omelette. “Now, any one of you moves, and I will begin making small but critical gaps in your anatomy.”
The cultists backed away slowly, and the chant died in the air. Then an eye opened in the iridescent tar-pit. And another. And then several dozen more. With a shriek, the shoggoth surged up out of its bubbling pit, pouring over the cultist I’d laid out on the floor. The man let off a choked-out scream, and when the shoggoth had passed, all that remained was a set of coal-black bones. I would find the discovery extremely satisfying if I hadn’t been about to experience it first-hand. I took aim, and fired off a quick pair of rounds, taking out two eyes before the derringer ran empty. Then the clinging pseudopods caught me in the chest, and I was slammed to the ground. Then I didn’t know anything.
What followed was rather like being in a very large, very aggressive crowd at a concert of the kind young people so often favored. My brain was being jarred, as though I was undergoing a never-ending series of jostles and bumps, keeping me from thinking properly. I could hear someone speaking in Welsh, talking about the Prime Minister, and assassinations. About London. About the ‘True Destiny of the Welsh Race.’ I stirred, and opened an eye. The whole world was tinted yellow.
I stared up out of the pit. The cultists were speaking in low hisses, their eyes narrowed. I reached out, and a long loop of protoplasm lifted into view, black and ropy. It took nearly every ounce of strength in my body, and the loop collapsed back into my body after a moment. “We will sweep our shoggoths through Downing Street. Every ounce of foul Saxon blood shall be washed into the sea, and the black bones shall be piled high.”
I struggled again. It was like moving through tar, but I was a bloody agent of the MI666, and these sheep-fucking lunatics had an insufficient appreciation for what that meant. I strained, and let out a scream. Every cultist in the room leapt back in shock from the pit as I pulled myself up, and out. One of them raised a book, and began chanting words of powers. I struck him in the elbow, and wound up taking his arm off, acids cauterizing the wound solidly shut. I wouldn’t lose any sleep if he died, but Welsh nationalist though he was, he was technically a citizen of Her Majesty. I did not take the rest of his torso off. Instead, I pulled myself up to my full height, which seemed rather less than it had once been, and roared “Drop your occult artifacts and line up against the walls, you Taffy fucks!”
After the shouting was done, and the coven was properly pacified, I stared into the mirror. The figure there was not my own. It was feminine, curvaceous, lovely even. Bare black flesh was on display, slick and smooth. Dozens of yellow eyes blinked across my body. I relaxed, falling back into a puddle, and tried to visualize my own shape. I rose up, opened my eyes, and beheld the strange woman’s body again.
The clothes were no better. I’d tried wearing one of the cloaks. It had been eaten right through by the acids of my body. I could avoid damaging living flesh, but I couldn’t stop the hunger that consumed the clothing. And when I tried to form it out of my own flesh…
I frowned. The outfit was skimpy, hugging the curves of my new body, but I could deal with that. It was just so damned French, black and white mixing to give me the kind of shape that gave frogs throbbing erections. It wasn’t the kind of outfit that would make a secret agent a figure of fear. It was a frilly, feminine garment, meant to inspire lust and desire that clouded men’s minds.
And I loved how I looked in it.
“Good job, Six. So, those dastardly bastards were feeding shoggoths. Bloody business, to say the least. We’ve cracked open at least three breeding pits and disposed of the damn things with a nice napalm bath. Casualties have been kept minimal.”
I silently nodded.
“We’re tracking down the cult leaders. Seems that they were radicalized by visits to Stonehenge and London, and thought that they’d be able to reawaken King Arthur to reclaim the land for the true original Britons. Would’ve had a bloody massacre on our hands if they’d gotten things into position. Damned impressive how you managed to keep things together. Love for queen and country, better than mother’s milk for resisting enhanced interrogation techniques.”
“Now, I- Aaah. Gentle, there. I’ve been talking with the boys down at labs. They’re not certain exactly how you wound up like this, but- Gentle, for chrissakes- they’ve got a theory that while consuming you, the thing incorporated your mind into its own. You were supposed to be assimilated like those other poor sods, but because of your emotional fortitude, it found you indigestible, and wound up choking on you, in a psychic sense- Damn, that feels good.”
I looked up for the first time at Σ. He gave an apologetic smile, and I continued at my work. I honestly didn’t think that explanation was on the money, but I was always taught not to speak with my mouth full.
“Now, the downside is, we haven’t a bloody idea how to extract your mind from that body, and even if we did, your own body’s a rather charred set of bones at the moment. It may take us some time to figure out- Oh, god damn- how to get you back into your old shape. Not that anyone’s complaining about your current shape- Christ!”
I swallowed, throat bobbing as I drank messily. I lifted my head up and nodded. “I understand, sir.” It was a messy business I was up to, but I needed to do it. This body depended on human protein, and the number of sources of human protein that wouldn’t require taking a big bite out of someone were limited as hell. Enjoying it was just gravy on top, pardon the expression. “I’m willing to keep on in the field, sir. Body’s not bad for that kind of work. A little obvious, but I can infiltrate like a goddamn Irishman in this.”
“Yes, I noticed. Well, we wouldn’t mind having someone to keep the commissaries clean, and the men here are certainly appreciative of your efforts, sweet-cheeks.” I paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow, but M didn’t seem to show any sign of noticing. I stood up from beneath his desk, and turned towards the door. The hand reached out and gave my ass a firm pinch, eliciting an extraordinarily feminine squeal from deep in my throat. “Dismissed, Six.” Σ winked, and I walked to the door, trying to put on a face of modest and reasonable outrage.
It was the way of things. Secret agencies were a boy’s club, and a woman- even one who was a man- had to be able to handle this kind of thing, because it was all a test. Mind you, it was also a chance for them to fondle my ass, but the maid outfit I was compelled by my body to wear certainly wasn’t helping. I stopped at the commissary, and began to tidy things up, the mess offending some place deep in my soul. While bent over a table, dusting it off, one of the other agents saw fit to hike my skirt up, and plunge balls-deep into me. And being a good agent, I didn’t say a word about it.
The thing was, it wasn’t out of bloody-mindedness or fear that I wasn’t speaking up. I tried to act as though it was, because that’s what people would expect of me. They were giving me a razz, having a jolly good time seeing if they could crack my demeanor, and if I acted as though I was bearing it stoically, they wouldn’t suspect. The fact that it felt good, the joy in dressing like a pretty ornament, the pleasure of getting grabbed and ravished by men who wanted a piece of me. It wasn’t the sort of thing a fine upstanding man of the Queen did.
But I wasn’t a fine upstanding man of the Queen. And as the other agent came inside of me and pulled out, ruffling my hair as he did, I realized I didn’t particularly want to become a fine upstanding man of the Queen again.
That’s the thing I liked most about this job: The unexpected perks.
Day 15: Angel, Succubus, Anal. Reverse Corruption, accidental anal, sexual exhaustion.
“Hello, mortal. Do you desire pleasure?”
The young man looked up, his eyes wide, his pants halfway down, a laptop on his knees. Caught in the act. It was the way I most enjoyed announcing myself. The fear and shame made the man’s energy more piquant, giving him a delicious tangy flavor that made my mouth water. This one was painfully easy prey for me, of course. I preferred men who were more difficult to persuade, the married, the holy, the repressed. They always made me work for it, and conquering them felt all the more satisfying because of it. But in all honesty, I was just looking for a quick, cheap meal.
In my centuries of experience, I have acquired a certain appreciation for the cheap meals. To be sure, there is great savor to be had when you manage to make one of the great men of an age into yours. To see someone who thought themselves staunch as iron bend under the heat of their own lustful desires is great. But they always make it such a pain in the ass. Having to constantly keep on top of them, watching as they try to pull their petty schemes and double-crosses. At a certain point, they’re more predictable than the virgins. With the virgins, you never know what they will do, because they’re too focused on satisfying their lover to make it a matter of conquest.
“I can see that you have been working busily.” I grinned, letting a hand trail down my chest. The tight leather jacket slipped open as I tugged the zipper, giving a flash of my bare, boiled-lobster-red skin. It was the only thing I wore, leaving my thighs uncovered, and hinting tantalizingly at my cunt. To see a man fall for the most base temptation was a little sad, but more than anything, it turned me on. “Tell me, young man. I am Loquacia. What is your name?”
“S-Steve,” he said, still staring. “This is a dream, right?”
“A dream come true,” I purred. I tugged the jacket aside, giving him just a hint of my pink, perked nipple. He nearly choked on his own tongue, staring wide-eyed at the little pink nub. That hint of my soft flesh, inviting him to fantasize about it. “I’ve decided to give you satisfaction. It will only cost you a small portion of your soul. A pittance, really, compared to the pleasure that you will feel.” I let my smile grow wider, mischievous and hungry together. “Surely it’s-“
“Yeah!” He smiled eagerly at me. I paused for a moment, slightly bemused, and then grinned. Of course he would be eager.
He grabbed me in both arms, pressing up against me, and beginning to plant eager little kisses on my neck. It was rather unexpected. Most men who desired a succubus had that secret urge to be preyed upon. They wanted someone to take control. A virgin who had enough hunger to simply grab me was a rare and rather intriguing thing. But then, surprise was exactly why I had wanted to do this. I let him pull at my jacket, yanking at it clumsily. His touches were inexperienced, but full of heart. I was much tougher than any human being, which meant that fondles and grabs that would’ve been painful and bruising for a mortal woman were simply more enjoyment, for me. I let myself get distracted, which turned out to be a rather bad idea.
Abruptly, the tip of his manhood was pressed against a hole not traditionally associated with gentle love-making. My eyes widened as he attempted to enter through the backdoor. “H-Hey! You’ve got… ah… the wrong hole, there, young man! Do not- Ooh- Do not move like that!”
He looked up at me innocently, and then thrust his hips forward. I squealed as he slid in. My own toughness worked against me here. For a human woman, unlubricated, unprepared, sudden dry anal would be an agony. It was intense for me, too, but the wrong kind of intense. Friction and heat built up inside of me, and my legs jerked as he hilted himself entirely in my ass, leaving my head spinning. “Why not?” he asked.
“Because… Ooh… Mmm… It hurts! Ah, y-yes, it’s very… Nnn… painful!”
“I thought girls liked this kind of thing. They always enjoy it a lot in the hentai I watch.”
“That’s… Nnnn~<3… That’s not a documentary-eee…” I groaned, my tail twitching and curling. I didn’t let men use my ass. It was a point of professional pride. I usually was more on the ball than this. I just had to endure a few seconds of it, though, I was sure. The young man was a virgin. He’d never had it with a real woman before, let alone a demon of sex. I was better than this. Better than him. As a brain-shattering orgasm sent my train of thought into a spiral, I was sure he would only last a few more seconds. Just a few more.
Half an hour later, I was a wreck. My thighs were soaked, my pussy clenching uselessly on nothing as my ass tightened with the tenth orgasm from his nonstop movements. I was trying to speak, but it was almost impossible with the distraction of my tingling ass. My lips were parched and cracked, and I was beginning to experience dehydration just from the sheer quantity of fluids I had lost. He frowned down at me. “You okay?”
A few minutes later, I sat with the large bottle of water in my lap, my asshole still tingling and twitching from the fierce exhausting marathon. “Are you sure you’re okay? Sorry, I kept going, but it’s kind of hard to get off after watching so much porn, you know? Plus you kept moaning, which was a bit distracting.” He gave me an apologetic smile, and I bit back a harsh comment. The boy had fucked half the life energy out of me. I needed him to orgasm, now. If I didn’t, I would be starving for months. And it was a matter of pride, now. “Uh… Miss Loquacia?”
“Yes, Steve?” I asked, before taking another long drink of water.
“I think I kind of love you.”
I choked and spat, making almost as much a mess of the bedclothes that way as I had from the marathon of anal. “Are you stupid?! I’m a fucking sex demon. I have had sex with thousands of men, most of them better than you.” He winced a little at that, and I felt a stinging little sense of guilt. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with that kind of nonsense. “Even if you actually have some emotional connection to me, rather than being flooded with hormones designed to make you pair-bond, what makes you think that I would ever reciprocate those feelings, huh?”
He frowned. “Why are your wings stained?”
I turned my head, and my eyes widened. The rich black-feathered wings were one of my finest features. The color of pitch, so dark they were almost iridescent. Except for a now notable stain of creamy white across one of them. It wasn’t seed. “That’s nothing,” I said, my voice a little too thin and nervous. “Look, maybe I should go-“
He grabbed my hand, and I felt all the willingness to leave flutter out of me. His eyes were desperate. “Please, I’ll show you how I feel. I’ll make you feel good.” He grabbed my ass with his free hand. I gripped the sheets tight, trying to pull away, but my traitor body remembered how good it felt. His lips began pressing eagerly at my neck. Half an hour of focused anal stimulation had left every nerve in my body on the verge of being overwhelmed. I had to do something. I made another foolish decision.
“My pussy. Y-You can do it there. Okay?”
I swallowed as he gently pressed me onto my back, spreading my legs. The moment he slid inside, my quivering sex slick as oil, I knew it had been a bad idea. He thrust balls-deep in a single easy movement, beginning to thrust. There was no rhythm, no focus, but my body was still oversensitive from the previous encounter. My toes began to curl, my back arching, as he began to pound at me like a clumsy schoolboy on prom night. It was to my shame that I was moaning like a bitch in heat under him.
“Ah! Loquacia! I love you! I promise, I’ll make sure you’re well fed!” He planted a rough kiss on my throat, and my back arched again, shivering at the sensation. “Tell me that you love me!”
“N-No! I’m a demon, damn it…” I didn’t have half the spirit in the words that I wanted. “Oh… God…” I went bright red as I realized what I’d just said, slapping my hands over my mouth. Not quickly enough, though.
He frowned, and tilted his head. “Are you allowed to say that kind of thing?”
“No, I- Oh, god!” He thrust just as I began to answer, cutting me off in another spasm of pleasure. And he still wasn’t cumming. Maybe I was too drained to overpower him. Maybe I couldn’t build up the will to do so. It didn’t matter either way. He had me right where he wanted me, and he wasn’t growing any gentler as I urged him on with my protests and whimpers. I curled my toes, tongue hanging out of my mouth, humped into a stupor, another orgasm building already. If anyone ever found out about this, it’d be more shameful than I could bear.
What was even worse was my reaction when he stopped moving his hips. I lay there in a daze for a couple of seconds, waiting for him to start again. Then I began to wiggle back and forth, trying to stimulate him, only for his hands to pin me down. He frowned down at me, staring into my eyes. “Tell me you love me.”
“I don’t believe you. Say you love me or say you don’t, but I want to know!”
“I… I don’t…” I let the words hang in the air, shivering. My hips were shaking. “I can’t say something like that! Do you know what’d happen? A lust demon that falls in love with someone, she’s just going to be some silly angel! I can’t… I can’t let you corrupt m- nnnnh!” I squealed as his hips moved again, my head spinning. My horns were feeling painfully small and meager, little more than an imp’s. My wings were an ashy gray. I tried to gather myself, pulling at the sheets, but he kept me pinned. If I’d been in my normal state, this would’ve been no problem, but I’d let him waste away too much of my energy. I shivered and went still beneath him, panting and gasping.
“If you don’t love me, I’ll accept that, but I have to hear it. I’m not going to just let you off the hook.”
“I… can’t just… be won over by getting fucked! I’m not that pathetic that I’m just going to fall in love with some mortal, because he’s clingy, and fucks me till I can’t… I can’t…” I slumped, whimpering a little bit. I was so hungry. I needed to be fed, and I could barely think straight. “I…”
There was a flash of light. My eyes widened, and I squawked. It wasn’t fair. I hadn’t said it. I hadn’t admitted it. But my body had jumped the gun. I arched my back as my wings flashed, turning bright, perfect white. My leather jacket lay open around my body, exposing my smooth skin as it turned from bright red to a cool, refreshing blue. My horns shrank away, withering, emasculating me as a demon, leaving behind a pretty golden halo, practically a symbol of my new status as a living hole. I whimpered softly, shamed, humiliated, fallen without even getting the chance to admit it, as he grinned down at me. I shivered softly as he planted a kiss on my neck. He’d made me into his soulmate in the most humiliating way possible, and now I felt joy singing in my heart at being held by him, penetrated by him. And as he began to thrust, I felt myself melt away into a silly little angel.
When he finally came, it was bliss. The feeling of his seed deep inside of me, fertilizing me. I lay clinging to him, huffing softly, pressing my face against his, nuzzling him, wings wrapped around him. He sighed happily.
“Are you going to marry me?” I asked, nervously. “I… I can’t feed from anyone else now.” I pouted. “You turned me into an angel, and now I’m stuck with you.”
He ruffled my hair, and yawned. “Course I am.” Then he fell asleep, still buried inside of me, still lying on top of me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clinging to him like a life raft, my tail heart-tipped and wound gently around his wrist.
I grinned like an idiot. I was a ridiculous lonely angel who’d never be taken seriously again, but at least I wasn’t going to get discarded, too.
Day 16: Raiju, Dark Sorceress, Bondage. Nipple and Genital Piercings, electrical stimulation, masturbation.
I laughed and cackled wildly as the bolts of crackling electricity leapt into my foe. The minotaur’s back seized up, her eyes going wide as she stiffened, arms outstretched, whole body twitching wildly with the infusion of electricity. It grounded out through her feet, and she fell backwards, eyes glazed and expression stunned. There was a heavy thump as she hit the ground, and I brushed my fingers through my hair, smirking down at her. My traveling companion gave me an annoyed look. “Is it really necessary for you to take that much pleasure in harming others? It’s not exactly pleasant to get struck by a bolt of lightning.”
“Oh, come now. It’s just healthy enjoyment.” I held out my hand, and another bolt of electricity struck the minotaur. She squealed and writhed like a stuck pig. “Besides, she was going to pin you down and rape you till your hips broke. This’ll make sure she thinks twice about that the next time she decides to approach some humans.” I knelt down and started going through the minotaur’s pockets, withdrawing a few shiny trinkets and rough gemstones that looked like they’d be worth something. I grabbed her ax for good measure, and gave my traveling companion a serious look. “Now why the hell did you decide to go on an expedition into these dungeons if you weren’t prepared for a fight?”
“I’m prepared just fine for a fight. I just don’t get any satisfaction from sadistically torturing my enemies.” He frowned, and studied the woman. “Also, I’d been hoping to question her a bit.” He sighed softly, and took out a small pouch of herbs, setting it down beside her. “Just because they’re monsters doesn’t mean they’re bad people, you know. I’m sure we could negotiate with at least a few.” I sighed, and shifted my corset. Being a dark sorceress came with a certain fashion style, heavily favoring silk, leather, and other non-conductive materials. I brushed my hair out of my eyes, and turned my back on the man, studying the corridor while I waited for him to start following again. After a few seconds, his footsteps echoed behind me and I set off once more.
“You know, if you wanted a diplomat, you could’ve hired a diplomat. You hired me because I’m the best at what I do, and I eat dungeons like this for breakfast,” I said, turning to look at him over my shoulder. This turned out to be a mistake, as a click sounded beneath my feet, a slightly raised flagstone sinking slightly. The next thing I knew I tumbled down onto the ground, throwing my arms up to try to grab the edge. This proved unnecessary, as the pit trap barely came up to my neckline. It did, however, mean that when the pit shut again, it closed tightly around my armpits, and pinned me in the undignified position. “Shit!”
My traveling companion raised an eyebrow. The white-robed scholar crouched down next to me, and rolled his eyes. “What’s the matter? I thought you were the best at what you do.”
“You eat dungeons like this for breakfast, right-“
“Shut up, and- Ow!” I winced, shifting.
“What’s the matter?” He frowned, suddenly looking concerned for me.
“It’s nothing serious, just… Kind of stung there a bit. Like something pinched my stomach-ACH!” I squawked, as another sharp pinch seemed to grab both of my nipples. Then I let out an outright squeal, as I felt a strange sharp sensation at my groin, warmth spreading out from the three little pinpricks. I began to struggle. “Hey! Help me out here! Agh! Ow!” It was not, in fact, all that painful. It might even have felt good under certain circumstances. What was unsettling was the fact that some unknown mechanism was responsible, and I couldn’t see what the hell it was doing, which was making me panic.
He grabbed my hands, and pulled, even as something trailed across my stomach, rubbing me strangely. I squealed, squeezing his hands tight. Then I realized my clothes were caught. “Wait, don’t pull, don’t-“
There was a very loud rip as I was pulled up, and out of the tight clenching pit. The lip snagged on something as my breasts passed, tugging at me in a way that made my brain stop working for a few seconds. I flopped onto the ground, and felt a vague discomfort at my chest, belly, and groin, forcing me to roll over onto my back. I stared down.
My clothing was, for the most part, intact. Sadly, the places where it had been compromised were vital. Around my areolas, my belly button, and my groin, the fabric and leather had torn and ripped open, exposing my bare saffron skin. And my new piercings.
The rings were golden, thick and surprisingly heavy. One, over an inch across, ran through my bellybutton. Another two had been put through my copper-colored nipples, and they were puffy and full from the constant stimulation. The last one ran through the hood over my clitoris, and was small, barely half an inch across. A golden chain connected each of the three outer piercings back to my belly button. The weight was not immense, but secured to such sensitive places, it was constantly aware. The scholar boy reached down and tugged on one of the chains, frowning. I would have punched him in the nose, but I was too busy writhing on the floor from the stimulating pleasure of having one of the chains tugged. “D-don’t fucking touch those! Just- Get them off!”
“They’re not piercings, exactly. There’s no hole. It looks like they were merged with your body, some kind of fleshcrafting.” He flicked one of the nipple rings, and my brain shut off for a few seconds. When I came back to reality, he was speaking again. “-bly some kind of curse. It’d be a bad idea to try to just rip them out.” The very idea made my stomach clench. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to grin and bear it.”
“You had better not be mocking me,” I growled, eyes narrowed. I tried to shift my clothes, to restore some of my dignity. Wearing cloth over the piercings practically reduced me to a sopping mound on the floor. I struggled to my feet, face terribly red, aware of how exposed I was, and the way the scholar kept covering his mouth to hide his amusement. Humiliation, anger, and the kind of arousal that could break my brain mixed together in strange combinations.I stumbled along, doing everything I could to avoid snagging the chains on anything.
As I walked, I was constantly aware of a sensation. Calling it an itch doesn’t quite capture the right feeling. It was close, and it demanded touches, to be scratched. My nipples, my groin, both were feeling the heat. The more I ignored it, the worse it grew, a burning heat that made my skin prickle. My hands drifted down, and I noticed the scholar staring at me. “Is now really the time for that?”
I realized, abruptly, that two of my fingers were knuckle-deep inside my cunt, and my free hand had been busily working over my nipple. My face turned bright red as I turned away from him, clenching my hands into fists at my side, trying desperately not to stick my hands back down there.
“Goblin!” The scholar said, raising his weapon. I raised my hand, and electricity crackled along my fingers, leaping out at the leather-clad Goblin thief. She squawked, her eyes widening, her back arching. This time, though, the sounds she made didn’t sound agonized. The moans, in fact, were growing rather sensual. Unthinking, I moved my hands to scratch at that itch again. Unfortunately, I used the hand that was currently channeling tremendous amounts of electricity into the goblin.
My whole body arched as the electricity leapt and arced over the chains, a circuit running through my stomach, my nipples, my pussy. I lost control, unable to stop the channeled energy from flowing, my power flooding out of me in a great rush, surging through my entire body. My hair stood on end, lines of electricity leaping between the locks as it brightened, seeming to gain an inner glow, every strand radiating electric blue light. My clothes began to do the same, a nimbus of Saint Elmo’s Fire surrounding me. My ears tingled and twitched, the magical energy corrupting my body, making me squeal and shake as I fell to my knees.
It felt better than I could imagine. The convulsions of electricity were more powerful than any simple orgasm. As my crackling fingers dug in and out of me, I could feel the power charging through me, sending me to orgasm after orgasm. The sensation of emptying out my reserves of power in such a futile, helpless way left my thighs sticky and wet, little crackles of electricity rushing all over me. Eventually, the charge dissipated, my reserves totally empty. I lay across the stone floor, breathing hard, my thighs clammy with my own arousal, intimately aware of the chain constantly pulling at my oversensitive nipples in the aftermath of the electrical orgasm.
I felt hollowed out. All of my energy and mana drained out. As I lay there, I caught a whiff of something. Sniffing deeper, I realized it was the scholar. We had been in the dungeon a couple of days now, and his body odor was growing noticeable. It made my thighs press together. The scent was like some equivalent of an aroma of cooking meat when you’re completely starving, though it wasn’t my stomach that was rumbling at his smell. I slowly sat up, and stared at him. He had his staff out, holding it up defensively. “Are you okay?”
I lunged at him. The staff was thrown aside as I pushed him down onto his back, easily overpowering him. Monstrous strength and monstrous hunger made it easy, as I started fumbling with his robes, yanking them up. I had his manhood out of his pants in second, grabbing it with both hands. That’s when he grabbed the chains still linking my piercings, and pulled. There was a discharge of electricity, a few dregs of power still held within me. It hurt, and felt good, and weakened me, all at the same time. I slumped to the side helplessly, feeling a wave of exhaustion slowly sweep over me.
The scholar was breathing hard, the hairs on his arm standing on edge. His erection was still jutting out of his pants, stiff. His expression was unreadable as he stared down at me. The previously kind, concerned, occasionally disapproving expression was gone. I swallowed hard. He reached down, and gently wrapped his fingers around the chains, giving them a slow tug. I shivered and moved with the pull, trying to avoid any additional pressure as he pulled me up and leaned me back against the wall. I swallowed as his hands hooked under my knees, tugging me into position against the wall, his hips pressing against mine. Then he slid inside.
The slow thrusts left my eyes tilting back in my head. Each time I began to gather together enough energy to do something, to fight, it discharged out through the piercings, washing my body in an electric pleasure, and leaving me helpless once more. Worse, each time I discharged my magical energy into the scholar, it seemed to make him fiercer, rougher, his hips pumping against me so hard it felt like I might fall apart in his hands.
After several long minutes, his orgasm came as a blessed relief, returning some modicum of control and spirit back to me. I shivered weakly, pulling against his hands, trying to squirm out of his grasp, only for his fingers to tighten around the chains, leaving me stiff and nervous as he stared into my eyes.
“Listen to me from now on. Understand?”
I nodded. He kissed me on the lips, and let me sink down onto my toes on the ground in my tattered clothes, holding the chains in one hand, and leading me along further into the dungeon. And I followed.
What other choice did I have?
Day 17: Automaton, Artificer, Sex Machines/Mindbreak. Sexual Exhaustion, Cum Milking, Orgasm Denial.
I slowly made my way down through the stone corridors, bent low. The warrens of the goblins were available only to a rare few, and it had been a great expense to gain access to this one. But I was out of options, and had no other place where I might find the things I was looking for. I stooped before a great doorway of steel, far too heavy for any mortal to move. I knocked twice upon it, and the walls churned and ground with the sound of movement. It reminded me of a well-made watch I had once listened to, the clockwork whirring within, except a thousand times louder.
The small green figure in the doorway was female, and would be attractive if she took a shower. She lifted a pair of dark glass goggles out of the way, revealing bright purple eyes. She brushed red hair out of her face, and sighed. “So you’re the Lady Daedala, eh? I’ve heard a lot about you. They say you built the Labyrinth of Cretin, and the Wings of Ichorous, and quite a few fantastic things otherwise. What are you doing down here?” She stepped out of the way, and gestured for me to join her. She was barely three feet tall, and I towered over her despite my own lack of stature. I followed her into the room, and sat at a small table, my legs folded awkwardly beneath me as she served me a cup of something bitter and dark. I looked aside at the machines that filled her workspace as I began my story.
“Two years ago, I was commissioned by a king. He had heard tell of my exploits, and explained that his wife had become bitter and frigid. He has a scion, but no satisfaction, and carousing among the women of the city has grown tiresome. He asked for the finest marital aid in all of existence. One with which he would never grow bored, which would always satisfy his desires. He offered me a life of absolute luxury if I accepted and succeeded.”
The goblin woman frowned. “I’d have thought you already possessed a life of absolute luxury.”
“If I refused, or if I failed, he promised to have me executed.” I sighed. “When you are the world’s most skilled artisan, your services become in demand to the point where it is more curse than blessing.”
“Ouch. Rough stuff. You sure he’s not going to pull the old ‘Hahah, you’ll never make something this good again after I maim you’ trick on you if you succeed?”
“No, frankly, but I don’t see that I have much choice. For my first attempt, I went to the greatest artisans in the world, the Dwarves. Those who know secret minerals, fine reagents, and the most masterful alchemy. I spent a year among them, learning their ways of rubber and wood. I made a material that felt as smooth and yielding as that of human skin, and created an onahole with it. Mahogany wood, varnished and polished to perfect, filled with the substance. It could be washed and cleaned easily, heated, used as many times as he liked. And for a time, he was satisfied with it. But then, a month later, he told me he had grown bored, and threatened to execute me. He told me that the onahole was interesting, but it could not inflame his desire, and it was tedious to grow aroused enough to use it over and over again.”
“Yes. I begged with him, prostrate, to allow me another chance. In deference to my experience, he did so. I traveled to the greatest herbalists in the world, the Elves. Those who know the many plants, and how to prepare salves and poultices of unlimited puissance. I spent a year with them, and learned their ways. At the end, I had made a salve. One that would make any surface slippery as oil, that would last for hours, that would clean easily, and that would inflame a man’s desires. I provided it to the king, and for a time he was satisfied.”
“Since you’re here, I’m guessing that he got bored again.”
“Yes.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Once more, he came to me. Once more he told me he was dissatisfied. Once more, he threatened to execute me. I asked him what was wrong. He explained that there was no thrill, no joy of conquest. Simple physical stimulation wasn’t enough. He wanted mental stimulation, as well.”
“Oh, I get it. Yeah, typical guy, he wants you to lie there and take it while he jams it in, then tell him it was the best you ever had.”
“I’ve heard that Goblins know the secret of mechanisms better than any other. That you know how to make a device which could satisfy these urges.”
“Yeah, see, the thing about that…” Her eyes flickered over towards the wall. A particularly large device stood there. It superficially resembled an iron maiden, though the stains around it were white, rather than red. “See, I kind of have an idea, but it’s probably not one you’re going to like.” She tapped her fingers on her knee. “Look, how much do you really want to live?”
“I would really, really like to live.”
“Did you bring those other two items with you?”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I think that I can help you. More tea?” I nodded, and she poured me another cup. “I’ve been looking for a chance to try out this invention, anyway. And it’s damn hard to find volunteers to help me test it, I’ll tell you.” I sipped the tea, and yawned as I placed the onahole and the ointment on the table. “Oooh, that is some good stuff. Wow, feels just like real skin. How do you make it warm like that?”
“Mmm. A chemical compound. ‘ts gotta be replaced from time to time, but it keeps the thing nice ‘n’… warm…” I yawned again, and felt the world sway around me. “Oh, damn izzzzzzz…”
I came to, an uncertain amount of time later. It was dark around me. I was aware of something smooth and phallic thrusting between my thighs. I realized that I was already aroused, copious fluids dripping down my thighs. Something slid in and out of me at a steady mechanical pace, pumping into my cunt tirelessly. Strangely, though the pleasure was quite intense, it didn’t seem to be building towards anything. I might have been able to orgasm after enough of it, but my body felt strangely numbed to that. I began to try to move, and found my arms and legs held in place, clamps around wrists, knees, elbows, ankles, waist, and neck. I licked my lips, and found a tube inserted into my mouth. Then a slot opened before my eyes, and light shone in, momentarily blinding me. A few square inches of the goblin grinned at me.
“Hey! You’re awake. So, good news bad news. I think I can help you win that contest! Bad news, uh, you’re going to be the sex toy. Look, if this works, you should be totally fine, if a little dazed, if it doesn’t-” She paused. “Well, I’m sure it’ll work! You’re not going to be able to cum, by the way. I applied a numbing salve. You’ll feel good, but it’ll just keep building up.” She grinned cheerfully. “Have a good time!”
I strained at the restraints for a while, but didn’t accomplish anything. With the tube in my mouth, I couldn’t speak. The constant thrusting between my thighs didn’t seem particularly distracting at first, but the longer it went on, the harder it was to focus on anything else. The steady movement wasn’t thrilling and exciting, but what it lacked in variety it made up for in constant stimulation. My thoughts kept being drawn back there. It would have been better if I could cum, if there was some texture in the constant stimulation, but that wasn’t happening either.
The goblin girl had said she’d make me into a sex toy. That I’d become the ideal sex toy for the king. There had been many men who had wooed me over the years, most of them out of a desire to take my money, fame, and secrets, but I’d never allowed one to do so. I’d preferred my tools. Now I was going to become one of my tools.
The thought made me shudder and clench a bit. The idea of being used just as mechanically by the king, of being locked away in a closet afterwards, only freed to be used again, it made my whole body quiver. It got me close, so close I could almost taste the orgasm, but I didn’t quite reach it. I was left panting, unsatisfied, my whole body aching with the denied pleasure, my hair hanging across my face.
At some point, a warm, salty fluid poured down the tube. I swallowed it all, and felt hydrated and fed. My needs taken care of. That only left the constant stimulation. I began to hallucinate, fantasizing about sexual situations. Of being grabbed and thrown down, of being raped and ravished and used like the onahole I had made. Each time I did, I came close to achieving orgasm, but it always faded away, my fantasies alone unable to do the job, the mechanical thrusting never making me satisfied. I knew, I think, how the king had felt. I couldn’t get off with just the tools. I needed someone to take me. To use me. I needed more. I knew how the machine felt, to be constantly used without ever achieving true satisfaction itself. And at some point, the border between me and the machine disappeared.
I’m not sure what happened to the goblin girl. I came to in the king’s castle, walking through a hallway. I stared at a wall, and tilted my head. My skin had turned stiff and white, the same composition as the material I’d made the onahole out of. Between my legs, the onahole was visible, the ointment dripping out of it constantly. I was still human-shaped, though my joints were articulated like a doll’s, black material visible beneath. My hair was made of thousands of strands of iron, smooth and metallic, black as night, hanging around my face. I shook my head and kept walking, until I found the king. I fell to my knees in front of him.
He didn’t address me. He didn’t even recognize me as human. He just snorted. “This is Daedala’s work, eh?” He lifted my head, tilting it from side to side. He gave my breasts a rough squeeze, but it didn’t hurt. I was much too tough to be damaged. I wanted him to be merciless, to make me feel. I didn’t even really care about the reward, anymore. “So, why don’t we see what you can do-“
I pushed him back, onto the ground, and straddled him. He chuckled, amused at first, and then my hips descended. Three merciless pumps, and he came, groaning. “Good! Good, I think that’s-“
I kept moving. My hips pumped up and down mechanically. But I wasn’t just a mindless fucking machine. I switched it up, rotating my hips in wide circles, swaying them back and forth, unknown mechanisms inside of me tightening and loosening the folds of the onahole around him, continuing to stimulate him. His second gasping climax came only a half-dozen strokes later. “A-alright! Well done! You’re- Ah! I’m-!”
I kept moving. He came a third time, and then a fourth. A fifth time. I was still no closer to orgasm as he first struggled helplessly with me, then begged for mercy, then groaned, eyes exhausted. The thirteenth orgasm was dry, no more seed filling me. His cock was still stiff, but he’d fallen into a heavy sleep, passing out from the sheer exertion. I panted and gasped, fingers dragging across the ground, no more fulfilled than I had been before.
I stood up, his seed spilling out of me uselessly onto the ground, and clenched my fists angrily. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t care about him anymore. I needed to find someone better, someone fiercer. I crawled to the window and leapt to the ground, swimming through the castle’s moat, still fantasizing about being taken, still hungry. I would find my owner, the man who could use me properly, who could make me cum. I’d give myself to him, be his tool.
A tool had to have an owner, after all.
Day 18: Doppelganger, Jock, Traps. Gender Transformation, Coitus, Fellatio, Casual sex.
“I don’t know why I even bothered coming out tonight,” said Cody. “Don’t know why you bothered, for that matter.” I leaned back in the booth. The music was loud enough that he had to shout to be heard. It was also dark enough that I was squinting. Clubs were places for drunk people. Drunk people were sensitive to light, and desensitized to sound. It made for an unpleasant combination if you weren’t already drunk off your ass. That wasn’t why he was asking, though.
“I’m not out here to find someone to fuck.” I adjusted my glasses, and took another sip of my drink. I’d never had any luck in bars. After the first couple of years at college, I’d accepted that, and had stopped going. My roommate had insisted on dragging me out, though, despite my complaints. He’d asked me along as his wingman, and I’d agreed. I was regretting that a bit now, but I liked Cody well enough, ass though he could be. “Besides, aren’t you ready to go find someone else to try a line on?”
Cody was successful with women. At least on the first night. He never slept with the same woman twice, and he claimed that was his choice. I thought that sleeping with someone who you didn’t really like seemed kind of pointless, but whatever made him happy. He just snorted. “Man, there’s no interesting girls here tonight. They’re all a bunch of…” He stopped, and stared over my shoulder at the entrance. His jaw slowly dropped. “Holy shit, man. Turn around, but don’t make it obvious.”
I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. Then I froze, staring, until Cody hit me on the shoulder. “Hey, man! Don’t be obvious!”
She was tall, about as tall as most of the guys there tonight, and she stood out in the crowd. Her leather jacket was a couple sizes too large for her, obscuring her chest, but the jeans she wore were tight, and showed the prominent curves of her hips. Red high heels gave her hips a sway, and provided her with an extra couple of inches height, making her visible over most of the crowd. The rest of that was thanks to her hair. It hung down to her hips, a great swath of bright dyed fuchsia that caught the low lights of the club with incredible ease. She walked with a practiced confidence in the high heels, and I turned away before I met her bright, green-blue eyes.
“Holy shit man. She’s coming over here. Stay cool, okay, talk me up.”
She arrived a couple of seconds later, and Cody gave her a cool, calm grin. There was a hint of eagerness to it, but I was surprised how easy he hid his nervousness. She glanced at him, and then turned towards me. “Hey.” Her voice was soft, breathy, but the music seemed to dip into a lull as she spoke, keeping her voice soft. “Mind if I sit with you?”
“Yeah, I mean, totally!” Cody scooted to the side, and the woman slowly slid into the booth next to me. I could see the way Cody’s glee died, replaced by confusion. I wasn’t going to gloat about it, but I was a little bit happy to see him experience getting passed over. “So, uh, I’m Cody, what’s your name?”
“I’m-” She paused for a moment, and gave me a brief look out of the corner of her eye. I turned my head towards her and smiled. “I’m… Tox… er, Doxy.” She smiled. “What’s your name?” she asked me.
“Oh, he’s just my bro, but tell me, Doxy-“
“Ah, it’s good to meet you, Bro.” She gave me a soft smile. Her hair smelled of cherries, and her lips were the same shade of pink as her hair. Her body was warm and soft, leaning gently into me. I could feel the soft curve of her breasts in the jacket, soft and cushioning as she gently curled her fingers around my hand. “I just transferred here this semester. I don’t really know anyone.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “I’m really hungry. Do you know any good places to eat?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Here.” I gently stood up, and grinned at Cody, who was staring wide-eyed. “Hey, uh, I might need to use the apartment tonight. Don’t barge into my room, alright?” And then Doxy and I walked out of the club together, into the cool starlight.
“So, I’m from California-” she began, and I leaned over, and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
“I know it’s you, Chad.”
Her eyes widened, and then she pouted. “What? How! Come on, dude, I was totally trying to surprise you! I know that douchewad Cody’s always such a smug prick about his fucking, I thought it’d be like…” She sighed, blowing out through her lips. Her voice was no less breathy, no less feminine, but it was still an amusing change of tone. “Shiiit. How the fuck did you know it was me? I was totally convincing. And don’t call me Chad, Doxy’s way cuter.”
“Well, first, you look exactly like an incredibly famous video game character. One who I personally have a crush on.”
“I put on a jacket and jeans. I’m totally low-profile.”
“Yeah. Second, I told you I was going out tonight and you asked me whether it was with Charlie, and got a really big smirk on your face. You’re not subtle.”
“And third, you were a girl, an extremely attractive one, approaching me in public. That told me right away it wasn’t for real.”
‘Doxy’ stopped. I took a couple more steps, and then turned. Her expression was hurt, and angry. “That’s not… Girls would approach you. You’re a sweet guy. You’re really smart, you know? You take care of people. I can’t believe you think that you wouldn’t be approached for real.”
I took a step up towards her, and softly planted a kiss on her lips. ‘Doxy’ let out a soft little groan, leaning into it, her arms moving up around my shoulders, but I pulled away before she fully embraced me, smiling. “Yeah, I’m a lot of wonderful things, but none of them are particularly obvious, you know? Nobody knows how ‘nice’ someone is just from looking at them. It’s not a big deal.”
She huffed, her cheeks puffing out. “Whatever, man. Fuck ’em. More for me.” She looped her arm around mine, pushing her breasts up against me, and planted a kiss on my neck. “I still thought it was going to be super hot. Can’t you at least pretend I’m not me until after we fuck, next time?”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I kept walking, and squeezed her against my side. “Fine. And since you started this, you’re going to have to scream a lot tonight, and get really noisy. I don’t want Cody to give me a bunch of shit about this tomorrow.”
‘Doxy’ chuckled, grinning. “Yeah, like that wasn’t going to happen anyway.”
A few minutes later, the two of us sat together on the couch in my dorm room as the PC booted up. “You need to get an Xbone, bro.” I gave Doxy a roll of my eyes, and she giggled as she slumped over onto my lap. I began to run my fingers through her hair, and she groaned out softly, tugging her leather jacket off. Her jeans came off next, disappearing into a puff of shadow. It left her dressed in a long pair of black-and-purple striped stockings, a tight thong, and a thin strip of fabric that barely covered her chest. “Do you like it?” she asked, just a little too neutral.
“Of course I do. Have you ever seen me not like the way you look?”
She was quiet for a few seconds. I opened my mouth to apologize, and she shook her head. “No, man, sorry.”
“I know you’d like to be able to look like you used to-“
“The fuck I would.” She frowned. “I hated being a dude. I hated always having to act like an asshole so people wouldn’t think I was being a faggot or shit like that. I hated always having to be on my guard. I like being a girl. I like being YOUR girl.” She pressed her cheek into my lap, nose nuzzling at my stomach. “This is the best thing that ever happened to me.” I began to scratch behind her ears again.
“Yeah, but I feel guilty I can’t show you I like you for you.”
‘Doxy’ huffed, and stood up. Her thumbs hooked into the thin bra, tugging it down. Her nipples slid into view, pink and soft against her pale skin. She tugged at the thong, pulling it up against the lips of her pussy, outlining it in a way that made my blood race, and my pants grow painfully tight. “Bullshit, bro. This is me. I get to look like this, and be the hottest fucking piece of tail ever, and that is a hell of a lot better than being some big-ass jock, you know?” She took my hand, and pressed it against her chest, her face serious. “Give that a squeeze, and tell me that isn’t the best set of tits you’ve ever had your hands on.”
I squeezed, and the serious expression on her face melted into a nearly-brainless grin, her mouth hanging open. My other hand hooked into her thong, and pulled her onto my lap, kissing her hard as the show started. She held the kiss for a few seconds, and then looked up, eyes widening. “Oh, hey, I love this episode.” As the familiar spooky theme began, and Fox and Dana began another futile investigation, she shifted on my lap, moving to straddle me, her back against my chest. With practiced ease, she slid her hands between my legs, unzipping my pants, and fishing my cock out. She held it gently against her crotch, the length of the shaft pressed between her lips, and began to stroke it absent-mindedly while she watched the show. For my part, I relaxed, and gently held her chest, squeezing her.
This calm and pleasant state of affairs lasted until the end of the episode. At that point, I’d been getting teased for nearly forty-five minutes, and grabbed her arms. She let out a soft groan as I lifted her up a bit. Her body was light, easy to move, and she squirmed to make it easier, shifting herself into place. Then I sank balls-deep into her tight pussy, and she let out a long moan, her whole body shivering as she settled slowly. It took several long seconds of pulling and pushing, but I was buried inside of her, her voice rising up to a volume that would definitely keep my roommates up.
I usually thought of myself as straight. Maybe I should have been more distracted by knowing that ‘Doxy’ used to be a guy. But when she moaned and clenched, her body shifting on top of me, her thighs pressing tight into my sides, her eyes growing soft and dewy…
I kissed her hard on the lips. Her eyes opened in surprise, her body stiffening a bit, but then she melted, lying back against me, letting her hips go still for a few seconds, her juices running down my legs, and making a hell of a stain on the carpet. I couldn’t help it. I came inside of her, feeling her clench as thick, sticky lines of semen trailed down the inside of her body, pouring down across her thighs, her eyes languid and half-closed as she slumped up against my chest. After a few long seconds, she pulled off, sighing happily, her eyes languid.
“So, ‘Doxy’. You want to play something for a while, then go for another round?”
“Alright. Let me just clean up, first.” She crouched down in front of me, and began licking my flagging cock, stiffening it. Her soft lips pressed into its sides, her eyelashes fluttering as she lapped up the remains of her own juices and my jizz, gulping it all down hungrily. She tugged her jacket onto the couch and sat there, a mess gathering beneath her as she took the second controller. Still naked save for the stockings, the thin strip of fabric lifting her exposed tits, and the thong around her knees, she leaned her head against me. “Let’s play.”
“Hey, by the way, Doxy… You know that Poison’s supposed to have a dick, right?”
“What?” Her eyes widened, and she flushed. “You’re fucking with me. Come on! She’s got pink hair and shit, she’s-” I opened a folder, and Doxy’s face went a brighter shade of red. “Aw, man. I can’t believe I had everyone in that place thinking I was packing.” She pressed her face in against my shoulder, hiding her face. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“Not as embarrassing as what we’re doing later tonight.” I grinned, and started the game, stroking Doxy’s hair until she managed to get her blush under control. She finally lifted her head
“I guess I’m not very good at being feminine, huh?” she asked, pouting up at me, soft lips pressed together, eyes dewy and soft, shining prettily under the messy pink hair, her body curled up against me, soft and smooth.
I couldn’t help it. My dick stiffened as I pulled her around onto my lap, and was buried inside of her again within a few seconds. That seemed like it was answer enough.
Day 19: Ushi-Oni, Diplomat, Combat Sex. Metaphorical Emasculation, Humiliation, Public Sex.
“This is an insult. This cringing waif? This is who the Bull Clan sends to the negotiating table? This is a serious matter, not a cotillion for maiden aunts in the making!”
I cringed. I tried not to, but cringing had been a state of being for me since childhood. Like a whipped dog, I lowered my head, trying to placate the Crab Clan’s ambassador. “I assure you, honored sir, I am the Bull Clan’s chosen negotiator in this matter. Please, we have much to discuss on the incursions-“
The tall, armored warrior snorted. One of the Crab Clan’s bullies. The kind of man who drove me mad. He sneered at me, lip curled, nostril raised. It was not an attractive look for him. “When I wish the council of a woman, I will be sure to ask whether I should start with your mouth or your ass. In the meantime, I don’t wish to hear-“
One of the Crane Clan men laid a gentle hand on his arm. The slender white-haired man smiled weakly, a nervous expression on his face. “Honored Dai-yo, I understand your pique, but please, we are at a meeting to discuss a matter of great import. If you can find it within yourself to calm, we must bring ourselves to order. The horde threatens our lives, and we must be prepared for their invasion. If the mighty Khan sets his mind to our lands-“
“Fuck the Khan, as I’m sure the Bull whore will be prepared to do at the first opportunity! Simply because you are both womanly does not mean that you must defend her, Paruki!” The Crab man growled. “But fine, let us be finished with this talk so we may prepare for a more glorious endeavor! My men shall be at the front lines, to meet the enemy invaders as they disembark! We shall slaughter them in glorious single combat-“
I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Dai-yo was like many men who I dealt with. As a diplomat, my job was to remain unflappable, or failing that, at least inoffensive at all times. Wars were begun over harsh words, and while I may not be able to prevent every war, I could stop the ones I would cause by growing angry. Usually. At times like this, I felt the burning in the pit of my stomach, the overwhelming anger, and the desire to have my vengeance. But I could hold it in. This meeting was important. I looked over at Paruki, and he winced apologetically. Dai-Yo was still talking. Others in the group were clearly becoming restless as he went on at length. I slowly breathed in, and when he took a brief pause for air, I spoke.
“Thank you, honored Dai-Yo, your position at the forefront should be a military masterstroke, but we will need to-“
“You DARE interrupt me?!” he roared, his eyes blazing. “Did your whore mother and rice-farming father not teach you your place, girl? No! Of course they did not! Had they done so, you would not even be at this table, let alone interrupting me! I did not fight in wars, duel my way to this position, to have some Bull Clan prostitute think she had the position to speak to me!”
He paused for a moment, and I opened my mouth. “I am sor-“
He lashed out with the back of his hand, and struck me across the cheek, sending me to the floor. My jaw ached as he towered over me. “If you wish to express your sorrow, perhaps you should come back to my tent and do what your kind does best.” He smirked down at me.
Blood rushed in my ears, the thumping filling my head. I was vaguely aware of Paruki begging for calm, and Dai-yo roundly shouting him down. Of course, Dai-Yo was not the one who was being asked to stay calm.
I felt my left arm twitch. Thick black hairs grew out of my wrist, lengthening rapidly, becoming more like bristles than anything else. I could feel the curse filling me up, the anger, the outrage at his behavior, making my stomach twist unpleasantly. My skull was aching ferociously, my legs twitching. There was a soft rip of fabric as my sleeves tore, then the rest of my outfit, my body changing. The thick black hairs sprouted out of my skin in places, and where they did not, the skin turned a poisonous green. I clenched and unclenched my fists, even as my nails thickened and grew, turning into massive claws. The rage inside of me was unbearable.
I had been cursed as a child. That was, in point of fact, why I tended to be so nervous about expressing my anger. A demon had been killed by my father, and its curse had fallen on me. The men in the tent began backing up, eyes on me. Dai-Yo chuckled. “What? Bull Clan chose to insult us with this girl, they will hardly-“
He turned, and his eyes widened. He drew his sword in one smooth movement, and swung it. It passed through my arm, cutting a deep gash. It closed again before any blood had rushed out, leaving the blade dark, and me unharmed. I growled and advanced on him, slowly looming. Eight great legs clicked beneath me, moving in perfect synchronicity. The two great bull horns grew from my skull, rising into the air, almost meeting in the center like a great gate. “Monstrous witch! This magic shall not-“
I reached out, and shattered his sword with one clawed, furred hand. My other hand tightened around his neck, and shoved him roughly to the ground. I might have used the table for greater ease, but that would have been impolite. The others had angered me for not stopping him, but Dai-Yo was the focus of my rage, of my transformation, and everything else at the moment. He would bear the brunt of my anger, and it would be satisfying to make him do so.
As the other diplomats watched, I tore his armor from him. The lacquered wood tore like paper, and his clothing beneath was ripped off. Beneath his armor his skin was surprisingly soft. A handful of scars adorned his body, but he was otherwise rather attractive. Under normal situations, he might have been the kind of man who would enjoy an attractive woman throwing herself at him with wild abandon. The expression on his face right now did not seem particularly pleased.
“What is the matter?” I asked, grinning toothily. “I thought that you wanted to see me do what my kind does best.” I grinned, sharp teeth glimmering. Perhaps I was going to create a diplomatic incident. I did not usually want to do that. My father sent me to these clan meetings because he believed in enforced decorum, and because he enjoyed putting my curse to good use.
The rutting frenzy came over me as I revealed his manhood. I engulfed it in one clawed paw, ferociously jerking him to full hardness. I could see him struggle, but his arms and legs were pinned beneath the furred section of my spider-like legs, unable to accomplish a thing. I gave him a wink as I released his shaft. “Come now, Dai-yo. Take it like a man.” Then I pressed his manhood to the thatch of hair beneath my navel.
Dai-yo’s screams filled the air as I thrust downward. I began to savagely ride him, my hips pumping up and down, hard enough to make his pelvis creak under my mechanical thrusts, crushing him in my painfully tight, gripping cunt. He lasted barely a minute before he let out a gasp, and came. “You shall have to do better than that! Come on, Dai-Yo! I emasculate you, defang you in front of your peers and rivals! Better try to regain a little bit of your confidence before you wind up losing all respect that was once had for you!”
This spurred a momentary struggle as he orgasmed a second time, but already he was going limp beneath me. The mild venom inside of my cursed cunt was sapping his dominance, his confidence, his strength. After I was finished with him, he would be humiliated. The venom would make it impossible for him to grow aroused, erect, without being reminded of this moment. It could be rather addictive with some. It would make him kowtow to me. When I was of my right mind, I did not want such things. I wanted to persuade people, and to convince them, not crush them. However, I was not of my right mind.
I straightened my back, looking around the room as my legs continued to mechanically lift and lower me. Dai-yo’s wordless moans provided a backdrop to my words. “If there is any among you who believe that my gender makes me weak, please feel free to insult me now. I am sure that you could prove it if you wished to so dearly. But before you stop me, insult me, question me, and anger me, please do remember what will happen to you.” I lowered my hips again. A creamy white mess slopped between my thighs and his hips, spreading with each orgasm, and showing the proof of Dai-yo’s defeat. Not a man in the room met my eyes, though Paruki’s lips were turned down at the corners.
I raised and lowered my hips several more times, and when I judged that Dai-yo could take no more, I stood up. “Good. I am glad we understand each other.” Two of the other men helped Dai-yo to his feet, and helped him limp out of the meeting. I left, and dipped myself in the water of the nearby river, washing myself clean. When I had finished, I dressed. I hated myself for a while. I had lost control. Had lost my dignity. Had lost my head. I’d fucked the man in front of the entire war council, and now would have to deal with the consequences of my act.
Every man flinched as I approached, and none more than Dai-yo. Perhaps it was being divested of his armor, but he seemed somewhat more feminine than he had before. The council continued, and we came to a reasonable conclusion. We always did, when I was sent to negotiate. I was no more than a thug for my father in that sense, providing a threat that ensured that the others would take this seriously. He did not care what it did to my reputation. The potential husbands it drove away. He had long since resigned himself to the fact that he would not be marrying me off to anyone.
As the meeting ended, Paruki approached me, his slender face nervous. The other men streamed out as quickly as they could without giving offense, and some of them moved even faster than that. I looked over at him, aware of the moderately petulant expression on my face. He flinched, and it made me feel like shit. “I’m sorry about all of that,” he said, frowning down at the ground. “I tried to get him to lay off, to understand, but… you know how he can be.” He sighed. “Well, how he could be, now.”
“I know.” I stared down at my feet. “I’m sorry.”
“I was asking for it too, you’ll recall.”
“Yes, but you didn’t do it by being an asshole. And I still care about you.” He gave me a half-hearted smile, and reached out towards me, his hand a few inches from my arm. I stepped back. His expression fell. “I wish you’d let me touch you.”
“I did that once. Wasn’t it enough?” I asked, and couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my tone. “I can’t even be around you without wanting to turn into that savage beast. Who knows if you would even survive a second dose of the demon’s venom?”
“I am prepared to risk it,” he said, as he always did. I shook my head hard.
“No. It would-“
He slapped me, firmly, across the face. He cringed a bit as I straightened up, my blood boiling. “I am sorry! But I am not sorry!” He straightened his back, fists clenched as he faced me. “You are not as fearsome as you think!”
I felt my head pound, my skull straining. The horns pushing through my temples. “You… are not… strong enough… to be my lover!”
Then I leapt on him.
It turns out he was.
Day 20: Queen Bee, Druid, Multiple Hand Massage. Mind Control, Objectification, Breeding.
There are many things that drive people to Druidism, but they all share a common trait. They are all the actions of other humans
I have known Druids who saw violence done to nature by man. Logging, strip-mining, hunting, the delicate balance of nature destroyed under the hands of careless human endeavor. I have known Druids who saw violence done to mankind. They saw the dark things from outside of our world savage innocent people, and decided that the best way to protect them would be to treat humans like any other part of nature, a thing to be defended and cared for. And then, there are the third kind. There are the druids who simply can’t be around other people. Perhaps it is things seen, perhaps it is things done. In my case, it was just a part of my nature. I could not stand to be around other human beings. Everything about them grated on me.
I sighed softly, as I walked among the bee hives. The delicate spells I used had shifted the shape of the trees, allowing them to live in harmony with the bees within them. Symbiosis in all things, all things interconnected. Granted, some of those interconnections involved a sudden violent death for one of the parties, but carnivores were a part of nature’s balance. It needed butchers along with shepherds. The important thing is that nobody did anything unexpected. Nobody shocked me, or made me uncomfortable, or acted in ways that kept me from being able to relax. There was a certain beauty in that. And yet, it was still not enough.
I’d begun my research into the spell in the hopes of finding a better way. Some people might be satisfied with living their lives in the boondocks, on their own, wasting their existence on meaningless survival. I had always wanted more. My ambition had been exceeded only by my inability to live with others, and so I had spent long years studying a way to have the best of both worlds. Soon. Soon it would all come to fruition.
I was not necessarily megalomaniacal. At worst, I was simply very devoted. I watched the bees slowly swirl out of their hives, flying around me, and setting drops of their honey into a large jar. I provided them safety, I provided them shelter and tools and greater purpose, and in exchange they provided me with the luxuries I desired. That was all I really wanted. To be able to enjoy my luxuries, the luxuries of civilization and other human beings, without all the godawful racket and uncertainty. And I was not simply going to take. They would live safe, contented lives.
My lower sets of arms ran across my stomach, slowly rubbing at it. My wings buzzed under my robes. I knew that there were flaws in the idea. For one thing, despite my work and studies, I still had not found a way to co-opt men. That meant that I could not expand my empire in the traditional way of bees, through breeding. I would have to rely on being a raider state. I would have to take citizens from the towns and cities and countries around me, which would invite retaliation. I would need warriors. There would be so much to do. I would have to choose the right time. I dipped one of my hands into the honey, and let it drizzle down my fingers. The last few drops I caught with my tongue, sucking the sweet flavor off of my fingers.
I turned my head sharply. A young woman stood there. She stood outside the range of the hives, staring, her eyes wide and shocked. All of my sets of arms were visible. I cursed softly under my breath. I had wanted to keep it subtle, to avoid notice until I was fully prepared, but it seemed that plan had just been undone by the chaotic nature of humans. Predictable, really. I sighed, and then lunged at her.
She tried to duck, but I was not aiming to attack her. As my wings buzzed at the air, her eyes became first confused, then frightened, and then dazed. Her motions slowed to a crawl, until she finally stood still, staring at me daze-eyed. I held the jar of honey in one hand, and studied her.
Her hair was a rather plain brown. She had the plainness of a farmer’s daughter, features more designed for blunt labor than seduction. I reached out, and gently pulled up her shirt. It had been a long time since I had felt another human being, and the warmth of her skin surprised me. My wings buzzed a little faster, excitement at the success and nerves at the power. I slowly stared at her breasts. Large, like a cow’s, the kind of breasts that were used to feed large families. It was interesting how our species seemed to change like that, adapting to suit our surroundings.
I slowly began to fondle her breasts, squeezing and rubbing them. Little moans emerged from her throat, but she didn’t try to push me away or stop me. She just let me have my way with her. The illicit thrill of groping another woman, of being able to do what I pleased with her, was intoxicating. This was another of the luxuries I had been denied for too long.
Her breasts were soft, skin smooth and fine there, unlike her rough hands or tanned face. It was almost hypnotizing, though clearly not as hypnotizing as the beat of my wings were for her. After indulging myself for a while longer than I should have, I took the honey jar and scooped out a couple fingers worth of it. I slipped my honey-coated hand into her mouth, running my fingertips along her tongue, around her gums, letting her savor the flavor. My energy charged the honey, filling it with the magical power that I had taken into myself. The power of the bees.
Slowly, a pair of antennae grew from the girl’s head. Yellow and black stripes appeared on her body, as she shifted and changed. Four wings grew out of her back from beneath her shirt, gossamer as a fairy’s, beating the air in time with mine, redoubling the gentle buzz. I watched as another set of arms emerged from her abdomen. Muscle solidified, giving her a strong, broad-shouldered body, short but eminently tough, everything she would need to be an excellent worker. I buzzed my wings against the air, and set her to work. It would only be a matter of time before someone from the village grew concerned about her disappearance, and came to question me. After that, they would send entreaties to the local lords, and word would spread quickly.
It was inevitable that word would get out. I wouldn’t genocide the men, which meant I would have to let them go, which meant that word would spread. I would simply have to make the cost of attacking me far too high. I sighed. It was not an easy thing to be a queen, but it certainly beat the alternatives.
I stood in my hive. Half a dozen great trees had been woven together by my magic, branches and trunks intertwining and weaving together, creating this sanctum. Nearly a year had passed, and the forest was thoroughly my land. Workers created pitfalls, traps, and fortifications. The warriors, slender and amazonian, forged great weapons and patrolled the edges. When warriors came to my land, they found the faces of innocent women simply trying to protect their home. We made occasional raiding parties out to take women, but we were able to acquire them in more diplomatic ways, now. Slaves were bought, tributes were taken. They all came, even if few ever did so willingly. Once they had tasted the honey, though, they became a part of the hive, and my great endeavor.
It was an elegantly simple system, really. Each woman’s buzz amplified the effects of my own, spreading the sound. We were always in contact, always aware of one another. It made us an invincible force in military endeavors. Add to that the nature of my forces, and no kingdom dared march against us any longer. They had seen the price of victory, and it was too high. I could simply focus on my own needs… For the most part.
I frowned. Several of my warriors on the eastern border had gone silent. I sent another patrol to find them, and discovered them unconscious. Another incursion. It happened, when I took the wrong woman. Someone wealthy or powerful or lucky decided they wanted their wife or mother or daughter back. Sometimes they came themselves. Sometimes they hired an adventurer. Someone individually powerful enough to enter my lands, and steal one of my subjects. Always a man; Women had tried a few time, and quickly found themselves happily included in my citizenry. I sighed, and sent my patrols out of the way of the intruder. It always was easier to just let the adventurer have the woman. Most of the time, they couldn’t stand life outside of my kingdom, and wound up returning on their own. It was almost as sad as it was satisfying.
I yawned, and returned my thoughts to affairs of state. I would expand again, but the question was where. The mountains to the north were easy to defend, but difficult to live in. The open plains to the east and south would nullify so many of my most important advantages. The deserts off to the west were an interesting possibility. There was always the question of where to expand next. The only way to keep safe was-
I spun. A man sat on the chair by the entrance to my chambers. I hadn’t even felt him come in. He had a small bushel over one shoulder, and a staff. A simple length of oak wood, unadorned, unvarnished. It was the staff of a wizard. He balanced it across his knees, as I drew out a long wooden rapier, grown from ironwood from the depths of the forest. He smiled pleasantly, curly brown hair hanging over his eyes. He was dressed lightly, as though he had been out for a Sunday stroll through the forest. “Hello, Queen Bee.”
I twisted my mouth, and spoke after a few seconds. It had been a year since I’d spoken aloud, instead of using intermediaries and my drone. My voice was crackling, rough, and unfamiliar. “Zzwho are you?”
“Me? I’m the court wizard for the Kingdom of Prome. You know it, I believe, your raiding parties took the royal family’s daughter while she was touring the outlying provinces.”
I rolled my eyes. “Zzyou may take her back if you like. Zzi don’t often pay attention to those I take. Zzit is of little consequence to me.”
“Oh, yes, I know. The thing is, I’m curious. All of this raiding, all of this chaos, what is it all for, exactly?”
I eyed him nervously. This man had made it all the way in through my defenses, to this room, without being detected. I had never heard of him, but that didn’t mean I could dismiss him. I fingered the rapier. “I wish for peace, and power. My spell cannot control men, as you are no doubt aware. So I could not simply breed a country. I had to steal one.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You went through all of this because you thought it was easier than getting along with a man? Well, that’s certainly a novel motivation. I don’t think I could just kill you after that.” He tapped his fingers on the staff, and the careless way he mentioned my death sent a shiver down my spine. “Well, I’ll make you a deal. A trade, if you like.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Yes?”
“Yes. You will free the women of this country from your buzz, every last one of them. Stop controlling their minds. Don’t take any new slaves.”
“You ask too much. Besides, none of them would be satisfied outside of my country. They would miss the buzz.”
“I suspect they miss it because they’re ripped out of it. If you returned their will and desires to them, they’d probably recover quite a bit better. And you’ve not heard what I’m offering in return.” His grin was broad. “Me.”
“You have quite an inflated impression of your own value.”
“No, others simply don’t appreciate what I am worth.” He grinned. “Think about it. A powerful wizard, as your personal drone. Helping you to make the children that you need to create your perfect society. Being not simply in control, but obeyed. You know you can’t resist that urge.”
I thought of it, hands clenching and unclenching. He was certainly attractive enough. And it had been a long time since I’d had a man. Sapphic orgies were fun, but my partners couldn’t enjoy themselves, they couldn’t do things that interested me, they could only obey. It was more complex masturbation. And it had been quite a long time since I’d had a man to hold. Old desires from a turbulent puberty made themselves known. “Why? Why would you give yourself over entirely to me, knowing the kind of creature that I am?”
“I don’t like people either. My king disturbed my studies to have me do this, and frankly that’s unacceptable. But…” He gave me an appraising look, his expression unreadable. “I like you. You’ve got an interesting mind. I wouldn’t mind doing what you want.”
I surged forward, my hands grabbing at him as I dropped the rapier. Two sets of hands, exploring and running over his body, squeezing and rubbing him. He was strong, well-muscled under the outfit, not what I would’ve expected for a wizard. He watched me with an enigmatic expression as I kneaded his shoulders and squeezed his arms, running my hands over him, exploring him. “How do I know that you’ll stick to your word?” I asked.
“I’m trustworthy.” He grinned, and I kept squeezing him, not sure whether to trust him or not. Then, my hands reached his manhood. He let out a soft groan as three hands began to rub and stroke him, palming his balls, gripping his shaft, stroking the tip, my fourth hand on his shoulder as I leaned in against him.
“You’ll give me children?”
“All you want.”
I climbed slowly on top of him, feeling long-dormant breeding instincts surging inside of me, my wings going still. Slowly, the buzz from outside faded away, dying off as the last few commands spread through my followers. They would not stop being bee-women. If he had lied to me, I could always begin the buzz again. But for now…
It would be very interesting to see what it was like to trust someone.