Me!

[hypnoswriter]

A real gentleman

This originally appeared on my Patreon. Thank you to everyone who supports me there, you all make these awful stories possible.

Note: what follows is fantasy. Consent is 100% the most important aspect of any relationship. Normally I consider that unsaid but implied in what I write but given the nature of this story and the times we live in I wanted to just be absolutely clear on that. Hypnosis can be fun and a wonderful way to play with consensual submissive desires but like booze or drugs using it to bypass consent is 100% wrong and illegal.

“You’re actually going to that talk?” My roommate asked incredulously. I had made a point of saying that I was going to was going to protest a Men’s Rights Activist talk on campus that was going to feature a bunch of Seduction “experts” and some noted alt-right types.

I tapped my purse, “Got my mace and an air horn. I plan to be as disruptive as possible.”

She raised a fist aloft from her reclined position on the couch, “Power to the people. I’ll be watching Gilmore Girls.”

Security was light as was the number of women in the audience. It was mostly college age young men who had come to be reassured that feminism and women were conspiring against them.

I was kicked out about thirty minutes in when during one supposed seduction expert declared that consent was a silly concept. Though my protest was rather inefficient it was disruptive and soon sigh my air horn taken away I was ejected onto the street.

“Didn’t like the talk?” a man asked. He was standing off to the side by the door checking his phone. Slender with short dark hair and a nice suit he smiled.

I shrugged, “I made a counter-point that they didn’t appreciate.”

He laughed, “Well good for you. They need to hear some counter-opinions. I hate that I ended up speaking here. If I’d have known what it was…” He shrugged.

“You’re a speaker? You seem so,” I sought for the word.

“Rational?” he said shrugging, “My thing is I talk about how to talk with women. I don’t do any of this ‘negging’ bullshit. Most of these kids haven’t had a real relationship with a woman and really just need to hear how to talk to someone, show interest and be respectful regardless of outcome. That it gets wrapped up in this speed seduction and MRA nonsense is annoying.”

I nod. I suppose I can see his point. Sort of.

“Men don’t have Cosmo or something that trains us how to positively interact with women. It’s all about how to score and yeah I like to score but it’s not a numbers game. Volume is less important than making a connection,” he said.

“Well that sounds more reasonable than what I heard in there,” I said, gesturing to the door.

He nodded, “Well not all seduction experts are pigs just like not all feminists have unshaved legs and wear tie-dye. Some are actually quiet attractive.”

I laughed, “Is this a line you teach?”

“I’m testing it out. How did it work?” He asked and laughs.

“It’s not terrible,” I replied smiling.

He nods and smiles to match mine.

“Not terrible is a start. It’s enough to get you to let your guard down a little bit. To feel more comfortable with me, like I might be someone you enjoy talking with me. Not like those other men who upset you but someone you can feel yourself growing to trust more and more,” he said.

I nodded again. He had nice deep blue eyes and was suddenly a lot closer than I remembered him being.

“Yeah you’re fun to talk to,” I agreed, “It’s good to hear the other side.”

He nodded, “Of course. I think we both are in sync and agree passionately that women deserve to be respected and to make their own choices but maybe part of you admits that sometimes it might be nice to not have to struggle so hard for that respect. Isn’t it tiring always fighting for respect and to be treated well?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be something I have to fight for,” I said.

“Of course. You shouldn’t have to tire yourself out fighting, you should be able to relax with someone you trust. Someone who agrees with you that women should be respected,” he said, “Relax with someone who agrees with you.”

I didn’t say anything. It just felt so nice to relax with him and know that he agreed with me.

“I bet it’s even nice to not to have to think about being an independent woman. It would be so nice to shut that off and feel relaxed with someone you feel a connection to,” he said, “someone you can feel good talking to. Who you can focus on and relax with. No need to think or worry just relax.”

His hand touched the back of my neck, “Sleep.”

My eyes closed and I felt myself fall forwards.

I was kneeling when my eyes opened. I reached for his zipper. He was right it was nice to find a man who appreciated a woman. A real gentleman. He deserved a reward for his views, for being so enlightened.

[ouraniaaphrodite]

For Family

Oh no I forgot to bring my clothes.

That's alright, you can wear your aunt's clothes. Lord knows she won't be wearing them anymore.

It had been barely a week since Elaine's aunt had died in a car crash. The woman, Ashley her name, left behind a husband and an year old son.

Ashley was Elaine's aunt on her mother's side. When she was younger Ashley used to babysit her and that had made them very close. So it was no surprise that Elaine volunteered to stay a couple of days at her aunt's to help her grieving uncle and look after her year old cousin. Her uncle was very grateful to her for that.

Elaine went to pick something to wear from her aunt's wardrobe and found herself staring at lingerie and clothes that would not fit her. Her aunt was curvier than her, with a larger bust and their tastes weren't the same either.

As if anyone is going to see me in these.

Elaine thought and picked out a set of lingerie that caught her eyes. She would be wearing them under her clothes anyways so no point in thinking too much.

The hot shower was just what she needed after slaving away all day in the kitchen to prepare meals and looking after her little cousin brother Casey.

When she was done, she dried herself and reached out to take the bra first. Immediately she felt a tingle go through her body and the piece of clothing shot out to attach itself to her body. The panties came next and Elaine slipped and fell back. Shakily she got up to her feet, using the sink to steady herself. Her eyes went to the mirror where she watched herself in shock.

Her ginger hair had turned blonde, or rather was turning blonde slowly from the roots to the tips. She had certain lost some height and the lingerie clung to her like they were a perfect fit, and they were. Her mediocre curves had blossomed, giving her wider hips, a juicer ass and thigh and and arch on her back when she stood. Her breasts bloomed to a greater size, jiggling with every movement she made, held back by the bra she wore. The freckles on her skin had vanished and given her flawless white skin. And there seemed to be a robe on her that she didn't remember wearing. She looked just like her aunt Ashley.

Quickly she made her way out of the bathroom and found her uncle sat on the bed, looking at her with a smile and something in his eyes that Elaine had never seen in them when he looked at her.

Uncle something happened. I look like aunt Ashley!

Uncle? Aunt Ashley? Is this another one of your little roleplay fantasies Ash? I'd be more than happy to play along.

Elaine felt the frustration build and was about to snap at her uncle. But the man grabbed her tenderly by her hips and pulled her into a kiss.

Elaine's mind went blank immediately and her body returned the kiss for her. Her uncle took her to bed, stripped them both down and slowly slid his entire length into her.

Just as the fucking began and Elaine began to moan in the absolute bliss of love making, memories came flooding to her, her own ones being slowly burned away. She remembered being a young girl in highschool, a cheerleader. She remembered looking after her niece Elaine who she loved very much, she remembered getting married to the love of her life. She remembered the sex that she had with her husband to conceive their only son. She remembered the pregnancy and the birth of her baby boy Casey.

Her husband Dan came inside of her and Elaine was Elaine no more. Ashley looked at her husband with adoring and loving eyes, pulling him in for a tender loving kiss. She was Ashley, always had been.

The next day she went to visit her niece Elaine's grave, in the dress the girl loved on her.

You were always a mini me baby girl, more than you were a mini of your mom. We all miss you so much

With her goodbyes Ashley left the graveyard, all memories of being Elaine wiped out completely. She was Ashley Bliss, a mom of one and the wife of a darling and loving husband. She had a family to look after.

[corruptedcaps]

Fake IDs

As promised, here is the winner of my latest poll. Also fun side note that this story is inspired by an idea from the great @misseviehyde

“I don’t know Lisa, this girl doesn’t really look like me.” Fran said as she worriedly looked at the fake ID that Lisa had handed her. It they were going to get into the Sorority party then they needed to bring alcohol and being freshmen there was no way of doing that without getting fake IDs.

“Don’t worry, the lady who sold them told me they world work perfectly. She said no one will even think twice about whether we are the girls on the ID’s, Melissa and Francesca. Besides no one looks at pictures anymore, not since they introduced the fingerprint security feature.” Lisa said matter of factly as if she had done this a million times.

“Yeah but these don’t have any fingerprints on them!” Fran said somewhat panicky as she looked at the space beside the picture where the fingerprint would usually be. The picture of Francesca seemed to look at her with distain. She reminded Fran of all the mean girls from high school with her the flowing hair shiny hair, her pouty full lips, strikingly blue eyes and smooth complexion.

“Relax, the lady explained it all. We put our thumbs on the space for ten seconds and it takes our fingerprint. It’s heat activated or something. Now stop stalling and let’s do this.” Lisa said impatiently.

In truth Fran didn’t even want to go to the Sorority party but Lisa begged her to go. Fran always felt she danced to the beat of Lisa’s music but she was the only person friendly to her at this new school away from home.

As Fran and Lisa placed their thumbs on the back of the IDs, an overwhelming surge of energy enveloped them, triggering a slow and pleasurable transformation.

Fran's once dull and ragged nails began to shimmer with a lustrous shine, growing longer and perfectly manicured. Her legs seemed to elongate, taking on a graceful and alluring curve that caught everyone's eye. Her skin, once plagued by imperfections, became smooth and radiant, glowing with a captivating allure. Her lips, once unremarkable, turned into a sultry and inviting pout that demanded attention. Her once dull lifeless hair transformed into glossy, brown strands that cascaded down her shoulders in a mesmerizing fashion.

"Oh, fuck I don’t know what’s happening but look at me!" Fran declared, a wicked grin forming on her face. "I'm becoming the epitome of beauty!"

With every passing second, Fran's demeanor shifted from surprise to arrogance. Her posture straightened, exuding confidence and dominance. She stood taller, her every movement commanding attention, and she revelled in the newfound sexiness that radiated from her very being.

Lisa's transformation was no less dramatic. Her nails took on a delicate elegance, her legs becoming slender and enchanting. Her skin became a flawless canvas, radiating an ethereal glow that seemed to draw people closer to her. Her lips transformed into a captivating smile that was both inviting and submissive. Her brown hair became a soft and gentle cascade of chestnut locks with blonde slutty streaks that framed her face like a halo.

As Lisa's physical changes progressed, her demeanor underwent a radical shift. She became increasingly docile and subservient, her posture bending to Fran's every whim. With each passing moment, she found herself more entranced by Fran's beauty and authority, unable to resist her friend's new domineering presence.

"Fran, you look absolutely stunning!" Lisa gushed, her voice trembling with awe. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be by your side. You're like a queen, and I'm just honored to be your friend."

Fran's cruel smirk widened, her newfound arrogance fuelling her desire to exert control over Lisa even more. She relished in the power she now held over her once-bossy friend, enjoying every moment of Lisa's submission.

"Of course, I do," Fran replied with an air of superiority. "And I’m ‘Francesca’ remember? In fact ‘Melissa’ let’s get our back stories straight in case anyone asks. We’re new here because our old college kicked us out for bullying but my rich daddy made it go away as long as we switched schools.”

The words seemed to flow through Francesca like she was reading from a book of facts. The more she spoke the more the world around them began to change. Their cheap, poorly built apartment that they stood in transformed becoming bigger, cleaner and filled with expensive things. Neither girl seemed to notice.

“In our old college I was head of the cheerleading team and sorority president. I majored in fashion but I was mostly on the lookout for a hot guy to bag so I could become his trophy wife.” Francesca said with a pleasurable shiver as her fantasies became concrete memories.

“Oh babe that’s so hawt, what about me?” Melissa said eager to hear her backstory. Her eyes sparkled with admiration for Francesca.

“You’re my loyal bestie of course. You do anything and everything I say. You eat up gossip as if your life depended on it and feed it to me. You’re a dumb bimbo who loves cock and partying.” Francesca said finishing up and causing the two girls to throw their heads back as their minds rewrote to the new reality. Within moments they tilted their heads back none the wiser to the two unpopular dorks they used to be.

“We have to dress way more slutty for the frat party.” Francesca said as she swung open the door to her filled to brim walk in closet. She ran her fingers over slutty tops and skirts looking for the right outfit for them.

“Frat party? I thought we were going to the Sorority party?” Melissa said as she twirled her hair and played with her tits in the mirror. Francesca threw clothes out of the closet to Melissa, breaking her gaze with her own reflection. With a giggle Melissa instantly got naked and hungrily put on the white top and checkered skirt.

Francesca meanwhile strutted out of the closet wearing a top that barely held in her plastic paid for tits and a skirt that hid the absence of underwear. She felt hot and dangerous. She didn’t know why but she felt like a new woman and couldn’t wait to get out and have all eyes on her.

“Change of plans, all the hawt guys will be at the Frat party. Besides, we’ll take over the Sorority soon enough.” Francesca said as she shot Melissa a wicked grin that was returned in earnest.

“Oh babe you’re so fucking nasty. I can’t wait to get to the party! I’m going to break my record for dick sucking tonight.” Melissa said with a mischievous giggle.

“Then come on slut, let’s to to the store and pick up some drinks.” Francesca said as she walked towards the door and Melissa loyally followed.

That night the two girls were a huge hit at the Frat party, in every way. Melissa was true to her word and sucked off over a dozen guys, most of them having girlfriends. She loved the taste of a cheating cock.

Francesca however settled for just one dick that night, but her choice was calcullated. He was the head of the Frat and the richest guy on campus to boot. With his kind of power at her disposal she would be queen of the college soon enough and the Sorority would be all hers to command.

As she rode her new man’s dick slowly she smiled to herself as she thought about how she met him before even getting to the party. Her and Melissa were at the store where they realized they had forgot their IDs. This was never a problem for either of them, they usually just flirted with someone there until they got what they wanted. Francesca just so happened to flirt with the most handsome and well hung guy around.

She honestly didn’t even know why she had an ID, she found it much more fun to uses her powers of seduction to get what she wanted.

[corruptedcaps]

Pierced

On the fourth floor of her sorority, Sarah stood in front of the door marked 'President', a little nervous, a little surprised but ultimately excited. It was a tremendous honor for her friends, and fellow sorority sisters, Emily and Bree to have voted to make her president. This was even more compounded by the fact that they had decided when they started the sorority to abolish the idea of having a single figure head.

In the first few months of her freshman year Sarah had been utterly lonely. She found it hard to make friends and there was no real place for her to meet anyone. That's when she had come across the sorority that had been abandoned.

Alpha Omega Sigma was once the most feared and revered sorority on campus, ruled with an iron fist by a girl called Kayla, the hottest, meanest, and most popular girl at the college. Her reign was infamous. She instilled fear in everyone, and her sorority sisters both idolized and dreaded her. When Kayla graduated, the sorority was left leaderless. The other girls seemed to lose their taste of being campus bitches and the building fell into disrepair, eventually being forgotten.

Sarah had seen it as an opportunity to bring together other girls who felt at sea, who needed a helping hand, who needed friends. That’s how she met the equally outcast Emily and Bree. They banded together to repair the broken down sorority. They made plans to organize charity events, volunteer at local shelters, and hold inclusive social gatherings that welcomed everyone, regardless of their background.

Finally after months of work getting the house back in liveable order, Emily and Bree surprised her with a gesture of gratitude and respect. They insisted that she become the President of Alpha Omega Sigma. Despite her resistance to having any sort of leader position or title, Sarah accepted, knowing how much it meant to them.

Pushing open the door into the bedroom she found herself beaming ear to ear. The girls had completely overhauled the room and it was now a warm and welcoming space rather than the dingy and dark place they had been storing materials in.

Sarah wandered around the newly renovated room, basking in its simple beauty. Piled in the corner were some boxes marked ‘Kayla’. They contained a bunch of clothes, jewelry and makeup from the former president that they had planned on using in a charity auction, once they had more sisters of course.

As she took a step towards the bookshelf, she suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through her foot. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, hopping on one leg. Looking down, she saw something gleaming between the floorboards. Kneeling, she pried it out and found herself holding a small, jewel-encrusted belly button piercing. The pink diamond at its center sparkled mesmerizingly in the light.

Her eyes were captivated by the piercing's beauty. It seemed almost alive, the way it shimmered and glowed. Suddenly, it shot out of her hand and latched onto her belly button with a force that knocked the breath out of her. She quickly recovered as a pleasurable vibration coursed through her body. "Ohhhh god what is happpppppening?" She managed to moan.

A deep sensation ran through her, and she could feel her bones cracking and shifting. Her once brown hair lightened, strands turning a bright, golden blonde that cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders.

As her hair transformed, she felt her drive for academic excellence fade, slowly replaced by an overwhelming desire to party and fuck boys. Her once focused mind now swirled with thoughts of drinking, dancing and riding cock.

“No, I have to focus, I can’t just think about partying… or can I?” She muttered weakly, trying to fight the intrusive thoughts. Each time she let the naughty ideas the more she felt her body change and the piercing throb pleasurably.

Next to change were her boobs which grew bigger than any other pair she knew. They stretched out her hoody she was wearing, lifting it high and exposing her midriff where the piercing sparkled.

With her now bigger tits, her extensive knowledge of science was pushed aside, supplanted by a deep understanding of makeup, fashion and seduction techniques. As smart as she was with equations and chemical mixtures she now was an expert in the right lip gloss for the right occasion, the sexiest dress that would have heads turning, and the flirtatious looks that could bring any man to their knees.

“Maybe this isn’t so bad. Knowing how to dress to get what I want would be useful, right?” She reasoned, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

Her lips plumped, becoming lush and inviting. She bit her bottom lip pleasurably, loving the taste of lipstick she felt on it. She felt her introverted nature dissolved into an intense arrogance. She no longer felt the need to shy away from the spotlight. She craved it, relishing the power she felt in her new, sexy appearance.

“Of course, I need to be seen and admired. What’s the point of being this beautiful if no one is around to appreciate it?” She said confidently.

Her fingernails elongated and took on a perfect pink polish, as if freshly manicured. Her kindness, which had been a cornerstone of her character, was stripped away, replaced by a cruel streak. She felt a thrill in the idea of asserting her newfound dominance over others, especially her two sorority sisters.

“Yes more, MORE! This is what I want! What I deserve! The other girls are just ants in need of a queen, and I am that queen.” She declared, her voice dripping with contempt.

Sarah’s skin began tingle as it became tan, achieving a flawless, sun-kissed glow. Every blemish, scar, and imperfection faded away, leaving her complexion smooth and radiant. She felt an overwhelming surge of power and beauty unlike anything she had ever known.

Striding confidently to the mirror, Sarah looked at herself vainly. She took out her phone, posing for pictures, loving how she looked from every angle. Her new, blonde hair shimmered, her fuller tits and plumper lips adding to her bitchy look.

“Mmmm fuck yessss. I don’t know how the piercing did this, but I love it. And I’m going to make some changes to this sorority. MY sorority.” She said, admiring her reflection.

Her eye caught the boxes in the corner marked ‘Kayla’ and a wicked grin crossed her perfect lips. She ripped them open with manic glee and pulled outa tight pink outfit and began trying it on.

Everything felt perfect on her body, every item clung tightly to her bigger tits and tighter waist. She was in heaven. She looked every bit the stereotypically bitchy sorority girl. She loved it and so did the piercing. It continued to throb pleasurable everytime she thought or did something bitchy.

But there as something more to it as she caught its pink glint in the reflection. It seemed to whisper to her evil ideas, filled her mind with schemes. It endowed her with the knowledge of the wicked magic that now coursed through her and told her how she could wield it. The very thought made her wet with anticipation and thankfully she didn’t have to wait long to test out her new power.

“Sarah? Are you ok? It sounded like you were in pain.” Came Emily’s voice from beyond the door.

“We just wanted to make sure you’re not hurt.” Said Bree who was also there.

Sarah felt the piercing throb as it glowed an unholy pink. She knew what she needed to do. Swinging open the door the two girls were at first shocked at the sight of their president looking like every bully they ever had combined.

However they were soon drawn in to the glowing light of her belly button piercing. They were bathed in the pink light and were quickly transformed into blonde brats just like their leader.

“OMG Sarah, like, what did you do to us? I feel, like, so nasty.” Emily purred entering the room to use the mirror.

“For real babes, I’m so yummy and hawt now. I can’t believe the loser dorks we used to be.” Bree said in a bratty whine as she ran her newly manicured fingers over her transformed body.

“Soak it up girls, you’re the first sisters of my NEW sorority. A sorority where we get what we want, we fuck who we want, and we crush everyone who crosses us.” Sarah smirked at the two girls who returned the smile.

Over the next week the Sorority exploded with activity. Their first pledges arrived expecting a welcoming environment but instead finding two wicked bitches, Mila and Brianna, who belittled and bullied them. The ones who stayed were rewarded with a meeting with the sorority queen, Sasha.

After that meeting any resistance to the sorority lifestyle was dispel, as was their notions of kindness and charity. They just wanted to party, bully and fuck. Before the end of the month the sorority was filled with hot babes who controlled the campus.

The Alphas, as they were come to be known, were a force to be reckoned with. If you upset one of them you might as well drop out. If you didn’t they would make you wish you had.

They held the biggest parties and had the hottest girls. Everyone wanted to be them or be with them but no one was more coveted than the queen bee herself, Sasha.

At their nightly parties, hot guys would surround her, their eyes filled with desire as they watched her move. She basked in their attention, feeling the power of their longing wash over her.

Each beat of the music seemed to sync with the rhythmic throbs of the piercing in her belly button, sending waves of pleasure and satisfaction through her body. Every throb was a reward.

Sasha’s hips swayed provocatively, and she threw her head back, laughing with a mix of arrogance and delight. The boys around her were captivated, their gazes never leaving her. She could feel their desire, their yearning to be close to her, and it only fueled her confidence.

She eyed them like food at a buffet, wondering which one she would enjoy tonight. Eventually picking a muscle bound man named Brad. The other guys looked disappointed as she led Brad up the stairs. She passed by the open door of Mila who was being eaten out by her Psychology professor. She gave a wink to Sasha in between moans.

Reaching the next floor she came across Brianna who was leading another girl around by a leash while whipping her with a leather crop. Brianna nodded in respect to Sasha and pulled her pet out of her path.

Finally Sasha and Brad reached the top of the house where she had taken over the entire floor. Her previous room was more than spacious but that was fit for a president and not the queen that she now was nor what the sign now said on her pink door.

"It’s good to be the Queen." Sasha thought, her lips curling into a triumphant smile as she pulled Brad into her bedroom. The piercing throbbed again, as if in agreement, filling her with a deep sense of satisfaction. She was Alpha Omega Sigma, and nothing could challenge her reign.

THE END

[hypnoswriter]

Disney Dazed

“I see you’re Disney Bounding,” I said gesturing to her Minnie Mouse ears, referencing the popular trend of dressing in a style that’s similar to a Disney character, without actually wearing a full costume. Red with white polkadots and Minnie ears was clearly meant to invoke Minnie Mouse.

I was behind in in the line for coffee and she turned, smiling widely. She did a little curtsey and spun around to show off her dress, “Oh yeah totally. I’m so excited, I’m going to Fantasyland for the first time tomorrow. My sister and I are so pumped, we’ve been saving for a year for this trip.”

I grinned, “It’s amazing, you’ll love it.”

“Oh I hope so,” she said. She glanced at my outfit and said, “You going too?”

“Yeah, I go a few times a week. I work at a nightclub in Orlando, so I got an annual pass,” I said, “It’s hard to tell but I’m dressed as Kaa.”

She studied me for a second, “Oh I see it yeah, the snake. Kind of a green vibe to your outfit.”

“I just need the swirling yellow and blue eyes to hypnotize you,” I said, pretending to hiss, “Trussst in me.  Ssssleeepy.”

She nodded, “Sleepy.”

Her eyes seemed to glaze over, becoming unfocused. I had not mentioned that my job at the nightclub was as a stage hypnotist, but that allowed me to recognize the beginnings of a trance. Just playing around she was already slipping.

I broke eye contact, “Your turn.”

Snapping out of it she blinked, “Oh right sorry.”

After we’d ordered our drinks and got them I stepped up to say good-bye, as I did I slipped back into my Kaa like voice, emphasizing the ’s’ sounds, drawing them out.

“It wassss nicccceee to meet you sssso niccce,” I said.

She smiled, “Yeah.”

“You look sssssleeepy, ssssoo ssssleeepy, your should resssst,” I said, “Closssse your eyessss and sleep, trusssst in me. Ssssleepy girl cub.”

I took her coffee from her hand as she closed her eyes, her head falling forward against her chest. She stood there, steady on her feet but seemingly asleep.

Guiding her to a quiet area of the cafe I kept talking, using deepening suggestions and then I sat her down where she could relax more deeply. I then implanted the suggestion that tonight would be a wonderful night to go for a drink at the nightclub I worked at, having her memorize the address for her Uber driver.

When she awoke the brunette smiled, “Hey, it was so nice to meet you. I’m Jade by the way.”

“Likewise,” I said standing, giving her my name.

“Nicest snake I ever met,” she joked.

While she returned to her sister and spent the rest of the day at Disney Springs, the Disney shopping area on the DisneyWorld property, I went to the park and had a fun day. Afterwards I went home, changed into my performance attire and went to work.

I was having a drink at the bar before my act when I saw the sisters arrive. I ignored them for the moment, finishing my drink then signalling for the DJ to end her set and start my intro. The lights dimmed and I went to stand in the wings of the stage. After my introduction as Orlando’s Sexiest Hypnotist, I stepped into the spotlight. I noticed Jade’s amazed expression at seeing me. She gestured to me, obviously telling her sister that we’d been talking before.

Normally I ask for volunteers, but that night I simply stepped down into the audience and approached the two sisters.

“You both look like you’re from out of town, why don’t you come on up?” I asked.

Jade nodded excitedly, pulling her more reluctant sister along with her.

“What are your names?” I asked, knowing half of the answer.

“Jade,” my friend said.

“Miranda,” he sister said.

“Now Jade you’re dressed up tonight, tell us what you’re dressing up for,” I said.

“I’m going to Fantasyland tomorrow so this is sort of an ode to Minnie Mouse,” she said.

“Very nice, you also have nice eyes Jade. I like them, deep eyes, easy to look into. Easy to feel ssssudenly ssssleepy,” I said adopting the Kaa technique for her.

So recently entranced she was half gone already. She nodded, blinking her expression going slack and her arms going limp. I reached for her placing a hand on her shoulder, “Sleep Jade, sleep now. Still standing, but asleep, deeply asleep.”

Once more she was out, standing firmly but asleep. I turned my attention to her sister who was a few years older and dressed in a yellow dress.

“Let me guess, you’re Belle?” I asked.

Miranda nodded, “Yeah, she kind of was into it. I didn’t want to do ears or anything.”

I grinned, “That was pretty crazy though right, your sister just going to sleep like that. Just snap and she’s asleep.”

“Yeah, that’s nuts,” she agreed, looking at Jade.

“Miranda you’re obviously not going to be hypnotized like that are you?” I asked.

“No way,” she agreed.

“You’re not hypnotized now?”

“No,” she answered.

“Now Miranda think about it, are you relaxing now, deeply as we speak?”

“No,” she answered.

“That’s good, because you aren’t hypnotized relaxing deeply now and sinking for me right?”

“No,” she answered.

I nodded, “But if you were relaxing deeply now, each breath taking you deeply and wonderfully down you wouldn’t notice it would you?”

“No,” she answered.

I nodded, “So as you say no you’re not sinking more now, focusing on my voice, relaxing and going down deeply into hypnosis are you actually going down deeply into hypnosis now but don’t know about it or are you aware that you’re going into hypnosis now sleeping deeply soon?”

“No,” she answered, looking lost now confused as to what she was being asked.

“And as you are or are not aware that you are relaxing, sinking into a deeply wonderful sleep you can close your eyes now, relax more and let go now Miranda, sleep now,” I said snapping my fingers. Like her sister her eyes shut and she stood at attention focused on my voice.

The act is risqué but not overly so. Having two attractive women as subjects helps, both for my sake and the audience’s. They both obeyed perfectly, performing simulated sex acts on invisible dildos and swearing anytime I clapped my hands. After about an hour of public embarrassment, I thanked the audience and sent the two women back to their table.

After washing up I was back at the bar, enjoying a post show drink. Jade approached, sitting down next to me.

“That was fun,” she said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Minnie,” I said teasingly.

“I mean, it was hot. I loved the Jungle Book as a kid, watched it a million times. I always wanted to be hypnotized,” she said, explaining why she was so easy to entrance when I slipped into playing Kaa.

“Well you did good at it,” I said.

“I really want you to do it again, and do anything you want with me,” she said.

I raised my eyebrow, “Am I your type?”

“As long as you’ve got those eyes and that voice, yeah,” she said.

“Such a good girl cub,” I said, looking into her eyes, “Trussst in me…”

I yawned, turning off the alarm clock, and rolling out of bed. Slipping a robe on I staggered downstairs to start making coffee. Jade was already up pouring me a cup.

“We’re going to Animal Kingdom today, remember,” she said brightly. I noticed she was dressed in her Minnie outfit, the one she had been wearing when we first met. Years ago, before she moved to Orlando, before the marriage. It had been awhile since I’d seen it.

I nodded, “Yes dear, but even Kaa needs their morning coffee.”

[misseviehyde]

CORRUPTED COLLAGEN

Ryan used his own companies skincare products and now Rylee is taking over.

Corrupted Collagen

Rylee stretched languidly on her new queen-sized bed, the sheets tangling around her long, tanned legs as she marveled at her reflection in

[corruptedcaps]

Living in Sin

Chapter 1: The Envelope

The newsroom smelled like burnt coffee and paper. Lucy Jones leaned back in her creaking chair, scrolling through the same wire stories everyone else had already filed. Another city council scandal that would be forgotten by Monday. A ribbon cutting at a new dog park. Nothing that screamed front page. Nothing that screamed Lucy’s big break.

Across the pod, Marcus from Investigations was packing up, humming off key. He glanced over. “Still hunting for a white whale?”

Lucy rubbed her eyes. “I’d sell my soul for a good story. Hell, I’d throw in my firstborn too.”

At that moment a light breeze flicked through the newsroom, causing a stack of paper on he desk to fall to the floor. She sighed and got down on her knees to pick them up. Marcus followed soon after.

“No please Marcus go home to your family.” She said shooing him away playfully.

“You sure?” He asked earnestly.

“Definitely. I’m a single 25 year old who lives in a one bedroom studio without running water, I’m not rushing to get out of here anytime soon. Go.” She said with a kind smile that Marcus returned. He waved her goodbye and left, leaving her to her mess.

As she picked up the papers she spotted an enveloped she hadn’t remembered seeing before. It was a large manilla envelope that had only her name on it and was pretty light.

Once the mess was cleaned up she tore into the envelope. Inside, folded once, was a single sheet of unlined paper. The handwriting was careful, almost childish, as though the writer had been trying not to shake. It read:

I was a brother in the Fellowship of the Redeemed Light for seven years.

They are not what they seem.

I escaped. This is all I could take with me.

No signature. No follow-up.

Tucked into the fold of the letter was a simple pewter crucifix on a thin chain. The cross was unadorned, slightly tarnished, the kind of thing you could buy for twelve dollars at any roadside Christian bookstore.

Lucy stared at it for a long moment, then unfolded the second page, same handwriting, same careful restraint.

She googled “Fellowship of the Redeemed Light.” A clean website appeared. White background, soft focus photos of smiling families, Bible verses in elegant serif. A place of healing. A family of faith. The senior pastor was a man named Reverend Nick Harrow, thirty years old, gentle eyes, neatly trimmed beard, the kind of youthful charisma that looked almost too perfect on a billboard.

She cross referenced local news. A few mentions of charity drives. A Thanksgiving food giveaway. Nothing alarming. Nothing interesting. Which, in Lucy’s experience, was sometimes the most alarming thing of all.

If this letter was to believed, she could finally have the story she had been searching for. Maybe there was corruption, maybe it was a cult, maybe it was a scam. All great options, from a story perspective.

Of course being a stanch atheist she thought all religion was inherently a scam but if she could prove something was going on in this church she might get on the track to actually being a respected reporter. She knew what she had to do.

It was easy to convince her editor give her a few weeks to investigate, it was slightly harder for him to give her sign off to go undercover.

“I don’t know Lou, what if they are dangerous you’d be putting yourself in a lot of risk. Or what if they are as pious as they seem and they find out you’re a reporter, I don’t think the paper could survive a church lawsuit.” He had said worriedly.

She had quashed his fears after assuring that she would get out of there at the first sign of them getting suspicious. He still didn’t like it but he trusted her.

On Saturday morning she stood in front of her mirror, in her new ‘costume’. She wore a high necked cream blouse, a navy skirt that fell below the knee, flats instead of her usual boots. Hair pulled back. Glasses and no makeup. She looked like someone who belonged in a church pew, but something was missing.

Her eye caught the cross that had come with the letter. She felt uneasy about putting on anything religious let alone one that belonged to someone else but she knew it was the final piece to her disguise.

As it slid onto neck it felt strangely warm, as though it had been held in the hand of someone for awhile. Her fingers ran across its surface almost lovingly, possessively. A faint whisper deep in her mind saying something she couldn’t quite hear.

Breaking from her reflection by the sound of a car honk outside of her apartment, Lucy picked up her bags and headed to her car ready for the long drive.

The turnoff came up faster than she expected, a narrow county road flanked by pines, then a long gravel drive marked only by a modest wooden sign:

Fellowship of the Redeemed Light. All Are Welcome

She slowed the car. The compound appeared gradually. A cluster of white clapboard buildings arranged in a loose semicircle around a central green. A modest steeple rose from the largest structure. Beyond the main buildings, she glimpsed a few smaller houses, a garden under winter burlap, a gravel parking lot already half full of sensible sedans and minivans.

Everything looked… normal.

She opened the door and stepped out into the summer air. The sound of distant singing drifted toward her, soft, harmonious, almost tender. Lucy squared her shoulders, smoothed her skirt, and started walking toward the church doors.

The double doors opened before Lucy even reached them, as though the building itself had been waiting. A woman in her late forties, round-faced and wearing a soft gray cardigan, stepped out with arms already half-extended.

“You must be new.” She said, voice warm as fresh bread. “Come in, come in. We’re just starting the welcome circle.”

Lucy managed a small, practiced smile and let herself be drawn inside. People turned, faces lighting with genuine pleasure. Hands reached out to shake hers. Names were offered, Sarah, Benjamin, Ruth, Thomas. Each one asked how she’d found them, what had brought her today.

Lucy had rehearsed answers, vague stories of searching, of feeling lost in the city, but she barely needed them. They filled the silences with kindness.

After the service, simple hymns, a short sermon from Pastor Nick about grace being a river that finds even the driest places, Lucy was swept into the fellowship hall. Someone pressed a mug of coffee into her hands. Someone else asked if she had a place to stay for the night.

“I… I wasn’t planning on staying long.” She said.

“Nonsense.” Said Ruth. “We have guest rooms in the women’s house. Quiet, clean, yours as long as you need. No strings.”

Lucy hesitated just long enough to look reluctant, then nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Nick approached as the crowd thinned. He carried himself with the calm certainty of someone twice his age. Dark hair neatly combed, eyes the color of lake water, a smile that seemed to see past the surface without pressing.

“Lucy, right?” He said, offering his hand. “I’m Nick. Welcome. Truly.”

His grip was firm, warm. Nothing lingering. Nothing off.

Beside him stood Eleanor, his wife, tall, auburn haired, wearing a simple green dress that looked handmade. She had the kind of beauty that didn’t demand attention, just quietly took it. “We’re so glad you came.” She said. “If you ever need to talk, about anything, we’re here.”

Over the next few days, the pattern repeated itself in soft, relentless variations. Breakfasts shared in the communal kitchen. Afternoon work in the garden, where she helped Ruth plant early spinach under burlap. Evening Bible studies that were more conversation than lecture.

She watched the Fellowship deliver meals to shut ins in surrounding area, repair roofs for elderly parishioners, organize clothing drives for the local shelter. They didn’t proselytize to outsiders, they simply showed up.

Nick and Eleanor were at the center of it all, never loud, never showy. Nick listened more than he spoke. Eleanor moved through the community like a quiet current, checking on the sick, reading to children, remembering birthdays. Once Lucy saw her slip an envelope of cash to a single mother who’d lost her job, no fanfare, no announcement. Just a quick hug and a murmured “God sees.”

They were good people. Infuriatingly good.

On the fourth night, Lucy sat alone in the small guest room, white walls, single bed, a nightstand with a lamp and a worn Bible. The window looked out over the dark green, the steeple a black silhouette against stars. She had the room to herself. No cameras, no locks on the outside. Just a brass key she’d been handed with a smile.

She stared at her reflection in the small oval mirror above the dresser. The cross still hung around her neck.

“This is ridiculous.” She whispered. “They’re saints. The tipster’s a crank. A bitter ex-member with an axe to grind. I’ve wasted a week chasing nothing.”

She tugged at the cross, tempted to rip it off, to throw it in the trash and drive back to the city at dawn. She’d write a nothing story about wholesome rural churches or something equally forgettable. At least it would be honest.

But as her hand gripped the cross, a voice came, soft, almost gentle, sliding into her mind like a finger tracing the inside of her skull.

Look closer. Their purity is just a mask but deep down they are as wicked as everyone else. Pride. Greed. Lust. Envy. Gluttony. Wrath. Sloth. They are already there, waiting beneath the surface. Waiting to take over. Stoke the fire.

Lucy blinked. The room felt suddenly smaller. Her eyes were wide, dark, pupils expanding. She was filled with a euphoria like never before. The voice wasn’t loud. It wasn’t even really a voice. It was a feeling, it was a truth, and she was rapt by it.

“W-who are you?” She managed to say.

I am your lord. I know you are a non believer but I am her to help you, to guide you into the light by doing my work. There is a rot in this church that only you can expose. They will thank you for it, in the end. And you… you will have your story. The one that generations will be telling.

“But how will I know I am on the right track? How will I know I have found the evil?” She said more in a daze now as her fingers tightened around the cross until the edges bit into her palm.

You will feel my warmth fill you and reward you every time you have uncovered one of their sins. The cross you wear, bestows a fraction of my power to you. It will allow you to discover the wickedness in the faithful. You will feel your body and soul transform with each new discovery. Here is but a small taste for you so that you will recognize it in the future.

Lucy suddenly felt her waist tighten, years of being chained to her desk in the bullpen snacking on cheap donuts melting off her in a instant. Her pale skin, damaged from years of fluorescent lights, smoothed out and repaired in an instant, colour returning to her cheeks. Her glasses slid from her face by themselves, for a moment blurring her vision and in the next moment becoming perfectly 20/20.

You will be my instrument and you will be rewarded for it. My work must be done.

She watched her reflection nod, slow, almost dreamlike.

“Yes.” She murmured, entranced. “Your work must be done.”

Her hand let go of the cross and the voice disappeared, her eyes back to normal. Her mind reeling from what had just happened. The euphoria leaving her body but being replaced with a feeling of purpose.

She wasn’t ready to say it was a divine purpose but one thing was clear to her now. She would stay. She would smile, and pray when they prayed, and help in the garden, and listen. And she would search for the sins. They were there, they wanted to be found and she wanted to find them.

Chapter 2: Sloth and Gluttony

It started innocently enough, over coffee in the fellowship hall the next morning. A few of the younger members were discussing a weekend volunteer shift at the nearest food bank. Lucy listened, nodding thoughtfully, then spoke in her softest, most earnest voice.

“I admire how much you all give.” She said. “But sometimes I wonder if it’s okay to protect your own strength first. The world out there is so draining. You pour and pour, and it never seems to fill anything back up. Maybe the Lord wants you to rest in this place He’s given you. To really be here, fully, instead of always running out to fix what’s broken beyond these walls. How can we expect to feed others if we ourselves have not had enough?”

She said it like a confession, eyes downcast, fingers tracing the rim of her mug. The words landed gently. No one argued. A few heads nodded slowly. It was as if her words had a syrupy quality to them that allowed them to slide right in and take root.

Each nod and each agreement filled Lucy with a warmth that told her she was on the right path. It was more than satisfaction, it was pleasure. She had never been able to sway people so easily before but for now thanks to her cross it came naturally now. It was a power she enjoyed wielding.

She gripped her coffee cup with now perfectly manicured and painted fingers. A manicure that had appeared just a moment ago as the others had nodded in agreement with Lucy. Their embrace of sin fuelling her. She admired her nails, silently thanking the lord for his blessing. No one even batted an eye at her lightening hair.

By the end of the week, the food bank shifts had quietly been reduced to once a month. The church's own pantry was now overflowing. Members were stuffing their faces during dinner, taking seconds and thirds. Lucy covertly smiled to herself as she watched each bite, her own figure improving in sync.

That night, alone in her room, Lucy stood before the mirror brushing her hair. It caught the lamplight differently now, longer, almost honey gold at the edges. She tilted her head. The change was subtle, easy to dismiss as better lighting or imagination. But she knew it was another of her countless rewards for her good work. She touched the cross. Her pupils dilated as the voice returned.

Very good my dear. They’re already turning inward, becoming more closed off to the outside. Filling their bellies without a second thought of others. See? Isn’t it as easy as I said? Evil is just beneath their surface, you’re doing the my work perfectly.

“Yes of course.” She said, entranced. “Your work must be done.” She felt a small, pleased shiver as she spoke the words. Letting go of the cross she was filled with a sense of righteousness. Every day becoming more of a believer.

As she slid into bed, the cross around her neck felt a little heavier but not uncomfortable. The pewter cross was no longer pewter. It had shifted, smooth, brighter, now a cool, polished silver that seemed to drink in the light rather than reflect it. Along the edges, tiny flecks had appeared. Pinpricks of diamond, so small they might have been mistaken for dust if they didn’t catch the light every time she moved.

Chapter 3: Greed and Pride

The next morning Lucy moved more deliberately, like someone who had learned the steps of a dance she hadn’t known she knew. Pride and Greed were the sins she chose to expose next. But she set herself a challenge by choosing to uncover them in Pastor Nick.

But deep down there was another reason why she chose him. Since arriving at the church she had found herself inexplicably attracted to him. He was of course handsome but there was something else, something she couldn’t put her finger on that was making her go to him like a moth to a flame.

She engineered a time to be alone with him. She lied about needing his counsel on something important. He had offered to set up a prayer circle and involve more members but she insisted only he could help. He was powerless to say no to her. Every day she looked more angelic with her soft velvet voice, her blue eyes and her now golden blonde hair. It felt sinful to disappoint her.

“Pastor.” She said softly, voice warm with just the right note of admiration as she sat in his modest office. “You carry so much. The way everyone looks to you… the way you never waver. It’s inspiring. Truly. I’ve never seen anyone so perfectly suited to lead, to command.”

Nick glanced at her, a modest smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not me, Lucy. It’s the Lord working through all of us. Tell me, do you feel the lord inside of you, speaking to you?”

She ran a manicured nail across her cross, sending a delightful shiver through her body. “Of course, especially since I joined your church. It’s why I feel so indebted to you. Your presence, your voice, your passion, it’s the engine of this flock.”

She let the words linger, let her gaze hold his a heartbeat longer than necessary, let her lips curve in quiet awe. Nick looked away first, cheeks faintly flushed, but she saw the flicker, the small, pleased straightening of his spine. “Thank you, Lucy. It’s… humbling to hear.”

She moved off her chair, getting closer, perching on the edge of his desk so her thigh brushed the arm of his chair. “Humbling?” She tilted her head, letting her golden waves fall over one shoulder. “Now is not the time to be humble. Now is the time to be proud of what you’ve built, to use your power to encourage the congregation to give more so that you may have the things you need.”

Nick moved uneasy in his chair and Lucy couldn’t decide if it was what she was saying or how close she was but she knew either way that she had to continue to push.

Her voice dropped lower, intimate. “I know I feel it. Every time you speak, every time you look at us… I feel smaller. And yet… safer. Because you’re here.”

Nick’s throat worked. His gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Lucy…”

She smiled, slow, knowing, tempting in its sweetness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say such things. It’s just… you make it hard not to want to worship.”

She slid off the desk, brushing past him deliberately, her hand trailing across his shoulder as she left. The door clicked shut behind her.

Over the next few days it was clear her words and maybe something a little more had 'inspired' Nick. He was more deliberate with his words, more specific. Speaking about how they should fill their own coffers rather than be spreading it out.

"We leave ourselves poorer to help others if we do not first enrich ourselves." He said commandingly from the pulpit to his flock. Lucy was the first and loudest to say 'Amen'.

"The Lord has entrusted me with guiding you. He trusts in me to deliver. He trusts so few of us to do so." He continued while stealing a quick look at Lucy as he said it. Lucy watched him with cool satisfaction. She ran her fingers over the metal of her cross, feeling it pulse faintly in time with her heartbeat.

Exquisite. You’ve crowned him in his own pride. He’ll fall harder for it. And every inch you lift him, you rise higher yourself. Keep feeding him. Keep worshipping him. He believes he deserves it, and soon he’ll crave more. But there are still three sins to go.

"Yes my lord." She purred in her own skull. "And I already have the perfect candidate." Lucy looked over to the opposite pew, her eyes locking onto Eleanor who was looking at her husband in mild distaste.

I trust you fully to complete my work. For now just bask in the rewards of the flock as they buy in to the pastor.

Lucy let her eyelids droop to a half lid as she focused on the energy in the room. She could feel the congregation shift towards what Nick was saying and it was making her feel fed. Her chest grew out another inch, her lips plumping ever so slightly. Her hair unable to turn any blonder.

However as all eyes were focused on Nick, Eleanor's eyes settled in on Lucy and her reverie. She didn't know how but something deep inside her told her that the church's shift in priorities, and her own husband's new found ego had something to do with Lucy.

Lucy could feel Eleanor's eyes upon her and knew the next two sins were as good as done.

Chapter 4: Envy and Wrath

Eleanor had always been the quiet pulse of the place, attuned to every shift in mood, every unspoken tension. But as service ended and the congregation started to flock to Lucy and Nick and not to her and Nick as they had every other week, she knew time was running out to save her people.

As the crowd thinned out, Eleanor made her move towards Lucy. She watched as Lucy held court like some sort of Queen, the women of the church asking her how she got her hair so voluminous, the men lingering much too longer on her figure. Who could blame them?

Despite her projection of a pious woman of God, Lucy dressed anything but. She wore a daringly short, white sun dress that clung to every curve. The neckline plunged dramatically low, framing her chest like a window to debauchery. And then there was that garish cross.

Massive, ornate, and dripping in sparkling crystals. It was hardily the right piece of jewelry for a humble and modest church like theirs. There was also something about it that made Eleanor shiver whenever her eyes caught it.

Every part of Lucy seemed to be designed to inflame the senses, to draw attention and to almost demand respect, adoration, and even worship. What incensed Eleanor the most was that it seemed to be working. By the time the crowd had dispersed and only Lucy remanined, Eleanor could barely contain her fury.

“Lucy.” Eleanor hissed. “I saw you. The way you sat there dressed like a harlot, staring at my husband like you own him. The way he looked back. You’re destroying everything. You’re a poison. A bad influence on him, on everyone. Stop this now.”

Lucy stopped her walk out of the church. She smiled to herself. She was going to wait until the morning before she made her next move but now was as good time as any. She turned slowly, her icy blue eyes flicked over Eleanor with cool, dismissive contempt.

“Bad influence?” She repeated, voice low and velvet. “Whatever do you mean sister?”

“Don’t plan dumb with me!” Eleanor said, eyes wide and aflame. “Ever since you arrived there has been changes. The flock have been more selfish, more vain, more closed to the outside world instead of embracing it. You have corrupted their minds with you soft words, twisting their souls.”

“I have done nothing more than opened their eyes to what was inside them all along. If they appear to have sinned it’s because that sin was always there, just beneath the surface. They are just more honest with themselves now and the Lord demands honesty. Even in you.” Lucy said, her voice never rising.

“Me? What are you talking about?” Eleanor said, showing a sign of confusion.

“Envy my dear.” Lucy said taking a step towards her. “Envious of me, envious of how I command the respect of not just the congregation but of Nick. The way he listens to me. The way his eyes burn when they find me. The way he’s finally becoming the man he was always meant to be… with my help.”

Eleanor’s face twisted. “How dare you!”

Lucy stepped closer, close enough that Eleanor could smell the jasmine heat rising from her skin. “You used to be enough for him. Now you’re just… background. A wife he pities. A relic of the weak faith he’s outgrown. Face it, I’m his future now. He wants me and I certainly want him. Lucy Harrow has a ring to it don’t you think?”

Eleanor’s hand flew before she could stop it, open palm cracking across Lucy’s cheek with a sharp, echoing slap.

Lucy didn’t flinch. She didn’t even blink. Instead, she laughed, low, throaty, delighted.

She touched the reddening mark on her cheek with pale pink painted nails, then leaned in until her lips nearly brushed Eleanor’s ear.

“Doesn’t wrath feel good, Elle?” She whispered, voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. “Let it out. It suits you.”

Eleanor recoiled, hand shaking, tears of rage and humiliation burning her eyes.

Lucy straightened, smoothing her dress with deliberate grace. “Excuse me.” She said coolly, as though nothing of consequence had happened. “I have things to attend to.”

She walked away, hips swaying, leaving Eleanor trembling in the corridor, the taste of her own anger bitter on her tongue.

Lucy strolled through the compound back to her room like she had just been crowned Queen. Despite the assault on her, she felt like a winner. She slipped into her bathroom and leaned over the sink to stare at her reflection. The handprint on her cheek was already fading, as though her skin refused to bear the mark of weakness.

She didn’t register any the pain as she was too busy feeling the now recognizable reward washing over her. Her breasts strained harder against her dress, waist narrower, hair shimmering closer to true platinum. The cross at her throat gleamed brighter silver, diamonds larger and more numerous, catching the light like tiny, greedy stars. She didn’t even need to touch it to hear the voice.

Almost there, my sweet. You have surpassed my greatest hopes. You have done what others previously failed to do. For this you will forever have a place in my kingdom.

“Thank you my Lord, I am filled with your light thanks to all your blessings.” She said, verging on a moan.

Just one more step. Seduce the pastor. Let him taste what he’s been denying himself. Let him discover what a true woman feels like. Lust will be the final key.

Lucy’s smile faltered. “But my Lord, is that not too far?”

Do you not desire him my sweet? Do you not crave what is between his legs? When he falls, when he gives in to you, then he becomes mine, my unholy vessel on earth. I will finally be able to bring Hell to Earth.

Lucy’s eyes went wide. “Hell? What do you mean?”

Come now, don’t play dumb with me my dear. You may have those morons fooled but not the Lord of Darkness. You always knew you were doing my bidding.

Lucy shook her head violently, pressing her palms to her temples. “No. No I didn’t! I thought I was following the right path!”

And you were. My path is the right path! You said you would sell your soul for a good story and I’ve given you one for the ages. Just one more little sin and I shall walk the Earth, ready to make it mine.

Lucy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “No, I won’t finish I this! This is wrong!” She said looking at her transformed body in the mirror, a body designed to enthral and dominate. “You did this! You changed me!”

I didn’t do anything, my dear, you did. I gave you the ability to warp and corrupt minds, which I must say you did perfectly. Better than some of my most experienced demons. You had complete control over it. You were like a musician, playing a perfect song. Once you experienced the taste of corruption it became an obsession didn’t it?

“No! I was doing it for righteous reasons! This is just a test of my faith. The devil would never use God’s crucifix for his wicked deeds.” Lucy said gripping the sink, trying to rationale everything she had done but as she thought back she remembered how good it felt to twist and manipulate others, how delicious it felt.

You can try to lie to me but you’ll never lie to yourself. You wanted to corrupt them because it made you feel powerful. It made you feel unstoppable. That cross? You’re wearing it upside down my dear. And just a few minutes ago you made a devout and loving woman give in to two of the most wicked of sins. Didn’t it feel good?

“Mmm oh yessss it felt soooo fucking good! No! That’s wrong! I should be helping people!” She moaned in protest. She grabbed the necklace, planning to rip it off in the vain hope it would end all of this. However it was foolish plan as pleasure pulsed from the cross and through her body even stronger.

Don’t resist my dear, you were born to be my sinful siren on Earth, that’s clear to me now. Men and women will fall at your feet. You will command armies of demons as my general. Don’t you want it?

His words filled her mind with wicked visions. She saw herself clad in tight red and black latex. A leather cape billowing behind her as she strolled confidently through the streets, leading an army of the damned towards every capital on the planet.

People were brought before her, forced to their knees and she looked at them with contempt. She would call them pathetic, weak, soft. She would devour their souls, converting them into more of her unholy soldiers. The obeyed her every command. It was intoxicating.

She staggered. “No… this is wrong… I can’t want all this... mmmm delicious power... ohhh fuck but I do!”

Her hips rolled involuntarily, thighs pressing together as another wave hit. The pleasure converting into more changes as her waist cinched impossibly tight, carving an exaggerated hourglass, hips flaring dramatically. Skin glowed flawless, sun kissed. Lashes growing longer, lips plumping further.

The heat surged to her chest. Her breasts ballooned outward, larger, heavier, impossibly round and high, testing the strength of the dress until she had perfect cleavage that rose and fell with her ragged breaths. It felt good, it felt right.

Yessss that's it. Doesn't it feel right to give in? To be free of morality and goodness? You life is just beginning now. No more fear. No more pain. Only power. Power that you'll wield as my most devoted servant.

Something in her changed in that moment, in a way neither her nor the Devil himself could have predicted. The catalyst of which was the word 'servant'. She had tasted power, she had done the work, she had turned good people towards the path of sin. This had all started because she wanted to be recognised, because she wanted her big break. She didn't want to be anyone's servant. She wanted more. She deserved more.

Another vision, cathedrals remade in her likeness, altars dripping with sin, choirs chanting her name. She walked among the broken and the remade, trailing fingers that made them shudder in ecstasy and terror. But she wasn't a general, she was a Queen.

She saw herself on a black obsidian throne, thousands kneeling below her, worshipping, begging. Nick sat beside her on a throne of his own but it wasn’t the Nick that she knew, this one was oozing evil power. He looked at her with lust, as if the only thing he desired more than power was her. The vision made her wet with desire.

She couldn't stop her lips curving in delight at the thought. She didn't want to stop it. The visions, her transformation, the pure ecstasy she was feeling, she knew it was too good to give up. In that moment the idea of an expose story seemed so trivial, so childish. She had more loftier ambitions now.

“No! I wasn’t made for this, I won’t be your servant!” She said as her breathing became more steady, more calm. “I was born to be more! You will make me the Lady of Darkness! You will crown me as the Queen of Hell! You will love me as the Empress of Evil! Together we will usher in a new world order.”

A low, warm chuckle filled the room, not from outside, but from inside her skull.

Is that so? Just a moment ago you were resisting and now you’re so confident and demanding. I must confess it is an attractive colour on you. But what makes you think I would agree to such flagrant insubordination?

Lucy looked at herself in the mirror. She straightened slowly, rolling her shoulders back, chin lifting with cruel, regal poise. The woman in the mirror was no longer fighting. She was radiant. Confident. Evil.

"Because you don’t want a servant, you want a partner. You desire someone as wicked as you to bring you Hell on Earth and someone as fuckable as me to fulfill all your needs."

The chuckle deepened, rich and amused.

You think I need you? You think that I don’t have a legion of lost souls that I can command to pleasure me, to quench my insatiable lust, to worship every inch of my body?

“I have no doubt, but you could have rewarded my work in anyway. You could have granted me wealth. You could have given me fame. But instead you gave me this.”

She ran her perfect nails down her throat, over the swollen curves of her breasts, savoring the weight, the power, the heat that now lived permanently between her thighs. The cross at her throat, thick with diamonds now, blazing like a dark star.

“You made me a delectable, blonde haired, big breasted bitch with a body aching to be ruined by you. Plus I don’t think these dick sucking lips are purely ornamental… my love.” She grinned as she licked her lips slowly, savouring the sensation.

There was silence for longer than there ever had been between her and the voice of the Devil. But she wasn't worried. If anything it made her all the more excited. She primped herself in the mirror as she waited for the response she knew he would give her.

All right my devilish little vixen, you will have your desire fufilled. But only once I have my new vessel. Is that clear?

“Crystal.” She said blowing herself a kiss. She turned from the mirror, hips swaying with deliberate, predatory grace. She had one final sin to uncover and it was going to be her favourite.

Chapter 5: Lust

The compound slept soundly as Nick slipped through the side door of the sanctuary just after midnight. He had told Eleanor he needed to pray alone after what she had told him about Lucy.

It was hard to believe it all, that Lucy was remaking the flock. That she considered herself a replacement for Eleanor. That she lusted after him. What worried him the post, however, was how much of it he wanted it to be true.

When he thought of Lucy in his private moments he couldn’t help himself from getting hard. She was the embodiment of temptation. He had never lusted after anyone. He had desired Eleanor of course, but for her goodness, for her charity and purity. When he looked at Lucy his mind filled with wickedly sexual thoughts.

What truer scared him though was how she made him feel. She looked at him with reverence that made him feel powerful. He liked feeling powerful.

He had come to the chapel to pray, to seek guidance from God, to be cleansed of his desires. He has come to find sanctuary. Instead he found her, waiting.

“Hello Pastor.” Said the velvety voice from the pews. Her voice in the dark startling Nick enough for him to drop his bible.

He froze in the aisle. “Lucy… you shouldn’t be here. Not right now.”

Lucy was a vision of pure seduction. Somehow she had grown even more beautiful in the few hours since service had ended. Her breasts bigger, her lips fuller, her waist tighter. Her figure poured into a pale blue mini dress. Even her eyes seemed to be more piercingly blue.

She slid out of the pew and started to walk towards him at the the altar with liquid grace. “I think we’re both exactly where we’re suppose to be.”

He took a step back. “This isn’t right. Go back to your room.”

She didn’t stop. She moved toward him slowly, hips swaying, the slip whispering against her thighs. “You feel it too, don’t you? The way everything’s changing. The way the world inside these walls is finally waking up. You’ve been fighting it. But you don’t have to anymore.”

Nick’s throat worked. “I’m married. I’m your pastor. This… this is temptation. Pure and simple.”

Lucy smiled, slow, knowing, devastating. “Temptation only exists if you pretend you don’t want it.”

She reached him. Close enough that he could smell the faint jasmine heat of her skin, close enough that the warmth radiating from her body brushed against him like the embodiment of want. One manicured hand rose, fingertips trailing lightly down the center of his chest, over his shirt, stopping just above his belt.

“Tell me to leave.” She whispered, lips inches from his. “Say it like you mean it.”

His breath hitched. His hands clenched at his sides. “You need to go.”

She made a performative pour. “Oh that wasn’t very believable.”

Her other hand lifted, cupping the side of his face, thumb brushing the line of his jaw. “You’ve been so good for so long. So restrained. So… small. Let me show you what it feels like to be more.”

She pressed herself against him. Soft, heavy breasts flattening against his chest, hips rolling once in a slow, deliberate grind that made his knees nearly buckle. The cross at her throat pressed cold metal between them, a mocking reminder.

Nick’s eyes closed. A low groan escaped him. “Lord, help me…”

Lucy laughed softly, the sound dark and sweet. “He sent me to help you… so let me.”

Her mouth found his, hot, insistent, tongue sliding past his lips with practiced hunger. For a heartbeat he stood rigid, hands hovering, then something inside him snapped. His arms came around her, crushing her against him, fingers digging into the silk covered curve of her waist as he kissed her back with desperate, starving need.

She guided him backward, step by step, until the backs of his thighs hit the altar. Then she turned them both, pushing him down until he sat on the edge of the sacred table.

Lucy stepped between his legs, hands sliding up his thighs, unbuckling his belt with deft, unhurried fingers. “This is where it happens.” She murmured against his ear. “This is where you become mine and I become his.”

Nick wanted to question what she meant by that but all reasonable thought escaped his mind as she sank to her knees between his spread legs, platinum hair spilling like liquid moonlight over his lap.

Her full lips parted, taking him in with slow, deliberate worship, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing, eyes never leaving his face. Nick’s head fell back, hands gripping the edge of the altar so hard the wood creaked. A prayer died half formed on his lips, replaced by ragged moans.

When she rose again, she pushed him flat onto his back across the altar, climbing over him like a conqueror claiming a throne. The slip rode up her thighs as she straddled him, guiding him inside her with one smooth, sinking motion. She gasped, genuine, triumphant, as he filled her, then began to move, slow at first, then faster, riding him with rolling, sinuous grace.

Nick’s hands found her hips, then her breasts, squeezing the impossible fullness through silk, thumbs brushing hardened peaks. “Lord forgive me.” He gasped, but the words were hollow, drowned by pleasure.

Lucy leaned down, her thick blonde waves curtaining their faces, lips brushing his as she whispered, “No more forgiveness. Only power.”

She quickened, hips snapping, breasts bouncing with each thrust, the altar rocking beneath them. Nick’s control shattered. His body arched, muscles locking, a guttural cry tearing from his throat as he came, deep, pulsing, flooding her.

A black current surged through him, hot, electric, alive. His eyes snapped wide, pupils blowing out until the irises disappeared entirely. His muscles swelled, shoulders broadening, veins standing out like cords under suddenly taut skin. His frame grew taller, denser, radiating unnatural strength. Even his cock grew bigger inside of Lucy causing a loud moan to escape her lips.

The gentle lines of his face hardened into something sharper, more commanding, more ancient. A low, satisfied rumble, not quite human, rolled from his chest.

Lucille stilled above him, gazing upon him with the dark satisfaction that mirrored his. She smiled down at the man who was no longer only Nick Harrow.

“Welcome, my king.” She purred, tracing one pink nail along his newly chiseled jaw.

He smirked up at her, slow, wicked, black eyes gleaming, still buried deep inside her.

“What is a king without his queen?” He murmured, voice layered with ancient thunder.

Before she could answer, he thrust upward, hard, deliberate, claiming. Lucille’s head fell back on a sharp gasp as hellfire itself poured into her core. Each powerful stroke drove pure, uncut, unholy power deeper, black flame racing through her veins, searing muscle and bone, flooding every hollow place until she felt herself expand, not in body alone, but in essence. It was better than any orgasm she had ever experienced.

Her eyes rolled back, then snapped wide, pupils swallowing the icy blue until they were endless black voids. She felt Hell itself rushing through her, a dark river of dominion and ecstasy. She could hear the countless souls chant her a name. Not Lucy, but a new more fitting name. Lucille.

She felt her body fill up with strength. Knowledge. Absolute sovereignty. It coiled in her chest, wrapped around her heart, sank roots into her soul until she was no longer merely changed, she was crowned.

She laughed, low, triumphant, voice echoing with new resonance.

“I am Lucille.” She declared, the name ripping from her throat like coronation. “Queen of Hell. Mistress of every sin.”

He gave her one final, shattering thrust. The power crested inside her, violent, blinding, endless. Her body locked, thighs trembling, back bowing as the orgasm tore through her like black lightning. She cried out, voice no longer human, a sound that vibrated through the sanctuary walls.

When the wave receded, her eyes cleared, icy blue once more, but the power remained. It thrummed beneath her skin, alive, obedient, hers forever.

Lucille exhaled once, slow and satisfied, then leaned down to brush her plump lips against his, soft now, almost tender.

“My king.” She whispered.

Lucifer in Nick’s body smiled, black eyes gleaming before fading back into something less demonic.

“And my queen.” He answered.

Together they lay across the desecrated altar, bodies entwined, the Fellowship of the Redeemed Light sleeping on around them, blissfully unaware that their light had been extinguished, and something far fiery had taken its place.

Chapter 666: The World of Sin

A year later, in the private bridal suite high above the Redeemed Light’s multi-million dollar Grand Sanctuary, Lucille stood before her full length mirror drinking in her reflection.

She wore the most expensive silk wedding gowns money, but more importantly her flock, could buy. Pure, blinding white, the color of virginity and innocence, ironically so. She had toyed with the idea of black or even blood red, something honest to her, something that screamed who she really was. But no. There was something so much more delicious about white. The Queen of Hell itself, wrapped in the color of purity, of goodness, of the very thing she had smothered inside herself and the very thing she was trying to rid the world of.

She ran her hands slowly down the front of the gown, palms gliding over the impossible swell of her breasts, massive, gravity defying orbs, so full they threatened to tear the delicate silk with every breath. The fabric was practically painted onto her body, clinging to the tiny cinched waist before exploding over hips that could command armies with a sway. It was times like this that she loved to reflect about the women she used to be.

Her platinum hair, once dull, mousy brown, now cascaded in thick, glossy waves past her waist like molten moonlight. Her lips, once thin and unremarkable, were now plump and obscene, painted the color of fresh sin. And her eyes… those icy blue voids that could freeze a soul in terror or melt it into desperate worship with a single glance.

Lucille smirked at her reflection, slow and cruel.

“Look at me.” She thought, voice in her own mind thick with gloating satisfaction. “From boringly pathetic little Lucy to this. A goddess carved from every forbidden fantasy.”

She remembered the newsroom. The bad fluorescent lighting, burnt coffee breath, wire frame glasses slipping down her nose, sensible flats because heels felt like vanity. A mousy brunette who had no time for religion, who rolled her eyes at prayer, who thought the most power she could wield was a byline and immortality would be her Wikipedia page. Weak. Small. Good in the most boring, forgettable way.

And now?

Now she knew what real power was. Now immortality was her in her veins. Now she was a religion. It all made her wet just thinking about it.

She squeezed her thighs together, feeling the slick heat bloom low in her belly. Every soul she had corrupted fed her. Every mind she had twisted, every heart she had blackened, every dollar she had bled from the faithful, it all flowed back into her like dark wine. The more she damned, the more beautiful she became. A perfect, vicious feedback loop she was utterly addicted to.

Each day their church grew and with it the souls they controlled, the souls that they damned to their kingdom to one day be enough to overwhelm the Earth and bring Hell to them. In only a year they had made their new brand of religion the second most popular in America. It had been easy, once they pulled the right strings.

Their influence seeped like ink into politics, lobbyists in tailored suits whispering to senators about "moral renewal," donations flooding campaigns that promised "strength through surrender." Institutions bent, schools adopted their "enlightened" curricula, corporations sponsored their retreats, media outlets ran puff pieces framing them as the "new wave of Christianity, a better way, unburdened by outdated guilt."

It was laughably easy. Soon they would drop any pretence about being simply the heads of the church. They would make sure they were worshipped as the superior beings that they were. Lucille could see them bowing for her now, begging for her blessings.

Their soon to be live streamed wedding was just the first step towards that inevitability. Cameras positioned in every angle of the grand cathedral to capture the moment they ascended in the eyes of the flock. Of course to watch such a privileged event, their followers had to pay and they paid in droves. Lucille and Nick were false Gods and their followers were frothing at the mouth to be as close to them as possible. Each one of them unknowingly giving their souls to them, growing their strength.

Last night alone Nick had fucked her so hard the load bearing wall had cracked, and she had come so violently there was a power outage for six blocks. As he pounded into her, every thrust was fueled by the thousands of souls they had already claimed.

She loved it. Loved how thoroughly she had killed the good inside her. Loved how the last flicker of Lucy’s conscience had guttered out on that altar a year ago, drowned in hellfire and orgasm. There was nothing left of the godless reporter who once chased truth.

Only Lucille remained, gorgeous, powerful, merciless. A living monument to vanity, greed, lust, pride, wrath, envy, sloth. Every sin she had once awoken in others, now lived in her bloodstream.

She cupped her enormous breasts through the silk, thumbs brushing the hardened peaks, and let out a low, throaty moan.

“How weak you were.” She thought, sneering at the memory of Lucy, no longer thinking herself as ever being her. “How small. How boring. You wanted a story. I wanted to be the story. And I won.”

The thought of how many souls now belonged to her, and how many would commit any sin she wanted if she whispered the command, sent another pulse of heat straight to her core. She was so wet the silk between her thighs was damp. She could feel it. She reveled in it.

A soft knock at the door. Lucille didn’t startle. She simply smiled wider. He had arrived just in time.

Nick stepped inside, already dressed for the ceremony. Black tuxedo tailored to his imposing, hell forged frame, eyes flashing black for just a moment, just for her. The faint scent of brimstone clung to him like cologne.

Lucille arched one perfect brow, turning slowly so the gown caught the light across every sinful curve.

“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony, my king.” She purred, voice dripping honey and desire.

Nick’s smirk was slow, predatory. “I had to see you before the ceremony. If I saw you dressed like this for the first time at the altar, we’d be live streaming an orgy rather than a wedding.”

Lucille laughed, low, throaty, delighted. “An orgy? Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Besides we should probably keep up appearances a little while longer. Let them think there’s still some shred of sanctity left to defile.”

The air between them crackled, thick, electric, obscene. Lucille could taste the lust in the air but she wanted to draw this out.

She glided to the black velvet chaise longue and reclined with deliberate laziness, letting the gown ride up her thighs until the silk pooled around her hips. She spread her legs just enough to make her intent unmistakable.

“We really should wait for our wedding night.” She said, voice teasing. “But if you must be sated… I suppose you could come taste your queen’s delights.”

Nick crossed the room in three strides and knelt between her thighs without hesitation. His large hands pushed the white silk aside like it offended him. He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to her.

Lucille sighed a long, satisfied sound and threaded her fingers through his dark hair, guiding him exactly where she wanted.

She smirked down at him, hips rolling in slow, languid circles against his tongue, soft moans slipping past her plump lips. In her mind, the thoughts kept coming, dark and delicious.

“How I love to tease my little devil with only a taste.” She mused in her mind, eyes half lidded with pleasure. “A little lick, a little suck, never quite enough. It lets me feel like I’m pulling his strings the way he once pulled mine. A year ago I was the puppet. Now he’s the one on his knees, worshipping with his tongue.”

She tightened her grip in his hair, grinding against his mouth just enough to make him growl.

“But who am I kidding? In a few minutes I’ll be so turned on, so dripping, so desperate that I’ll be have to have another dress sent over. This one will be in shreds, ripped off me, torn apart after I tell him to ravish every inch of my body right here on this chaise. Maybe I’ll be wearing black after all.”

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through her. She arched her back, moaning louder, letting the sound carry. She guided his head harder against her, hips bucking once, twice.

He was the master of seduction but she loved to keep him on his toes. Keeping him at bay just long enough until she gave the word, until she gave in, until she told him…

“Darling.” She purred, softening her grip on his hair, allowing him to come up for air. “Enough games, I want you to fuck me harder than we’re going to fuck this world. I want the building to shake. I want to be late to our own wedding. I want you to fill me up with your demonic dick.”

Nick grinned as he slid up her body, to the nape of her neck and started to kiss her there passionately while Lucille smirked triumphantly.

“Let them wait.” She thought as he gripped her perfect breast and squeezed it. “They’ll have all of eternity to bask in our glory.”

THE END

[or-fi-s]

Wing-it for notnaomhan

Posted using PostyBirb

[fanterfane]

Iselda’s Infection! (Patreon Request)

Patreon request for Lyn The Lightning Cat! Iselda gets a letter from Zote, one that has an awfully powerful cognitohazard… (Hollow Knight Spoilers) I don’t know if Zote would really be that malicious, but he definitely talks like he would. Who knows how he got that picture in that letter without getting corrupted himself. I blame his hubris. Poor Iselda… Now she’s gonna be all mindlessly horny and violent for when Corny finally comes back… She didn’t deserve this! I think this is a particularly dark themed post, but honestly it’s hard to make Hollow Knight stuff that isn’t in that vein. Oh well!

[fanterfane]

Eternal Empath! (Patreon Request)

Patreon sketch request for Tina! Alex gets twinned into Eternal Emilita’s sister!~ While exploring the Hollow Nest, one finds many exotic individuals… Although some may be passed over and forgotten, those such as Eternal Emilita may be forgotten, but never gone. In fact, she seems to live forever in her hubris and arrogance! Such a jovial existence, just sitting there laughing about living while everyone else is dead… Too bad she didn’t have anyone to share that with, until now… I had this idea as I was playing the Hollow Knight on Twitch stream and met Eternal Emilita in game. She literally just sits there laughing and kicking her legs gayly the whole time. Perfect for a buggy twinning!~

[fanterfane]

Hornet’s Host! (Patreon Request)

Patreon Request for Scottimus Prime! Fayne gets Hornet-ified! While exploring a strange place, Fayne finds a weird looking mask that latches onto his face! Now, as the gendered one, Hornet the bug-Fayne will venture forth and find glory!~ Drawn as part of my Twitch streaming of the game Hollow Knight in the leadup to the release of SilkSong. There’s gonna be more Hollow Knight art on the way, so look forward to it!~

[crimsonrune]

Comm - New Year, New Selfie (Disco TF/TG)

Who remembers the time-shifting app that hurtled Crimson back to the Roaring ‘20s last time he played with it? In that “New Year, New Me” piece by the talented @Chesshire88, the poor fool ended up becoming a lovely flapper girl performing at a New Year’s Party a hundred odd years ago! …Last time, though, Chess herself fortunately remained in the future (the present?) as a helpful lifeline to drag his sorry ass back to his old life. What happens when that’s not the case anymore though? As we see here, another slip of the finger - and impulsive use of photo filters that aren't really photo filters - land them both in another period altogether, and together! This time, a hot and popping discotheque back in the 1970s as a duo of vivacious dancers. It’s not all bad - their wait to take the long way home isn’t nearly as far as the last time! Plus if they put their heads together, I’m sure they can find another way home… If they’re not swept off their feet by the other patrons or the beat of the music, at least.

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[fanterfane]

Team Rocket Recruit! (Sketch)

A sketch I drew for a friend of mine, Jjesterbomb! Fayne gets hypnotized by their Neitherite Gholdengo, El! Uncensored: https://bsky.app/profile/fanterfane.bsky.social/post/3mcj6haetxg2q Fayne really doesn’t have much luck with pokemon, does he? I was gonna post this on world hypnotism day, but it wound up not happening lol

Please let me know if you liked the art! This is my full time job, profession, and dream, so I need your humble support and generous sponsorship to keep me motivated and drawing and drawing and drawing and… You get the point… Essentially, I rely on your engagement to be able to pay my rent and medical bills (and taxes)! So it goes with saying that I am beyond grateful and appreciative for ANY and ALL support I can get!~ If what you viewed today SATISFIED you enough to warrant it, please consider leaving a one-time-tip/donation at https://ko-fi.com/fanterfane, or SUBSCRIBE to me at www.patreon.com/fanterfane or https://subscribestar.adult/fanterfane for all of these BENEFITS and more! - Full PREVIEW access to COMPLETED ART weeks to MONTHS BEFORE it’s PUBLIC POST! (Most up to date content is on Discord) - Access to the PATRONS-ONLY SECTION of my public DISCORD SERVER, with exclusive tier based roles! - View EARLY SKETCHES and WORKS-IN-PROGRESS of things I’m working on! - See EXCLUSIVE UNPOSTED ART! (Some things will just never be publicly posted for certain reasons) - Voting power in SEMI-MONTHLY decision and art making POLLS! - Ability to submit requests on semi-bi-monthly PATREON REQUEST STREAMS! - COMMISSION DISCOUNTS based on your subscription tier! - My eternal and unyielding gratitude in the face of all darkness and evil across the ages! If none of those options are appealing to you, I’ve recently opened up a THRONE at https://throne.com/fanterfane where you can buy me things anonymously and directly through Amazon if you want to! Finally, make sure to DRINK WATER, STRETCH OUT the STRESS built up in your body’s muscles, and take a moment to BREATHE, ENJOY some QUIET, and JUST BE. Thanks again for viewing and reading this, and I hope you have a good day tomorrow!~

[fanterfane]

Silica Sou! (Patreon Request)

Patreon Request for VespirAlter! Fayne gets possessed by their slime girl, Silica! Girls just wanna be Fayne! I mean, who doesn’t if he can be filled up that easily? At least Fayne probably enjoyed the taste of blue raspberry when she went down his gullet… Although it probably turned his insides bluer than a tongue after sucking on a blue jolly rancher. Not that Silica Fayne has much of a problem with that, her brain already being 50% blue definitely helps with that… I wonder what it’s like, to have your brain juices replaced with slime…

[boopthebutt-deactivated20190119]

Art by: Notglacier

[boopthebutt-deactivated20190119]

Art by: Notglacier

[a9td]

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