Director D.Z.
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Days as a Hypnoslave in the Servant Trap - Jalter
🕑 Added 2020-07-01 16:59:39 +0000 UTCHi folks! Today, I'm posting up the long awaited story vote selection from May - sorry it took so long, it was a little tricky to work out how to put all of the tied options together, but I hope you enjoy the result! Voter fics are always interesting to write~
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(Contains bimbofication, striperization and maidification)
Jeanne d’Arc Alter was a woman of simple desires. Vengeance, hatred, spitting the face of god, the usual stuff for a girl her age. She wasn’t interested in being fancy or hiding her intent with flowery words – she was as straight forward as they come. (Unless it came to things like knowing her own heart, but that’s rather forgivable for a Servant intended to have none, don’t you think?)
But there were some things in life she truly, truly enjoyed, and one of them was the utter defeat of a vexing rival. No, not the Holy Maiden, that woman just left her confused and conflicted, damn her! No, this one was far, far worse – the one who dared to consider herself an equal, no, a superior to the greatest Avenger of them all! The one who mocked her constantly, and undermined her at every turn! The one who had the nerve to call herself her senpai as an Alter!
But today…
Today, Saber Alter, Altria Pendragon herself, was going to suffer the full wrath of the dragon witch! Muahahahahaha!!!
Ah, how fortunate she had been – she had thought that once that dark city vanished, she might end up drawn into Chaldea’s summoning system, where she would have had to play nice with that golden eyed bitch. But no, instead, she had been called here – to the great city of Cockaigne, the city of eternal pleasures – and the place where her dreams could be granted. Indeed, as soon as she’d been summoned, the people of this smog ridden singularity had fallen on their knees to worship her, giving her the praise she was due! She’d been gleefully ushered straight to their high command, the building in the centre of the city, where-
… Where …
H-huh, what had she just been thinking of? She lost focus for a second there, and for some reason the image of a swinging coin had slipped into her head. Weird. It had even been held by- Been held by-
Jalter’s eyes fluttered.
- Yes! It was very fortunate she’d ended up here! Now she could have her revenge, and no one was going to stop her! Least of all that silly Master, who she definitely didn’t care about, not at all, hmph.
“Are you going to stand around drooling all day or are you going to do something useful?”
Ah. Right. She was here. Before her, Saber Alter hung in chains, suspended by her wrists, her cursed blade stripped from her, her black armour doing nothing but weighing her down. The stone cell she had been incarcerated in held as firm as ever. She looked… Well, Saber Alter always looked a little bit furious, but right now she looked even angrier than normal. Wonderful!
“Hahahahaha, oh! Look at you!” Jeanne grinned like a shark, clutching her cheeks like a girl in a sweetshop. “The high and mighty tyrant, strung up like a turkey! Oh, I’ve been waiting for this day for far, far too long~”
Altria’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’ve signed yourself over to their side? Hmph. I should have known. I always knew you were a craven louse.”
“And I always knew you were a wretched whore who thought too much of herself!” Jeanne shot back, instantly on the defensive despite herself. She flinched as Altria smirked – her slip of temper had cost her a point in whatever stupid game of pride she was playing with this woman, but it wouldn’t cost her the war! “… Well, anyway. Now that I’m here, I’ve found a way to help you admit what you are and teach you your place all at once!”
“Is that right?” The pale skinned king didn’t seem impressed. “And how much of your dignity did that cost you? From what I learned here before I was captured, I understand this city has a very specific way of using servants…” Her eyes hardened. “They were mistaken if they thought they could get me to indulge them, but I’m sure a simple-minded fiction like yourself was all too happy to shove her face into their laps…”
“Shut up!” Black flames roared around the fallen saint. “It’s not like that! These idiots work for me. I’m not one of those weak goody-goody servants that got broken by the city. I’m the one who made them serve me instead!” Her smile began to return. “Now I rule this place, and I get to humiliate all of those ‘real’ heroes who thought they were all soooooooo much better than me – starting with you.”
Altria tilted her head, her chains rattling. Her look of disgusted disbelief was clear. “I don’t know what sounds more ridiculous – you thinking that you can humiliate me, or you thinking that this city is yours. You really must be every bit the simpleton I thought you were.”
“Enough!” Again, Jeanne roared, but this time she just ignored Altria’s satisfied look, and instead drew a large golden coin on a string from one of her pockets. “We’ll see who the simpleton is once I’m done with you!”
“Oh? The witch has a toy to play with?” The king wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “Where did you find that, in the gutter?”
Psh. As if. No, she’d gotten it from-
Swing
… … …uch a good gir… … …
Swing
… keep watching… …
Swing
… … Heehee~ Such a cute little sis… …
Swing
- H-huh? Oh, whatever!
“It doesn’t matter where I got it,” Jalter snapped, raising the string so that the coin dangled between herself and her captive. “What matters is the effect it’s going to have on you! So you just watch the pretty little coin-“
“You have got to be kidding.” Altria’s look was so scathing that any knight of the round table would have lopped their own head off if it had been directed at them. Including Mordred. Especially Mordred.
But Jeanne just looked delighted. “Nope, not at all! In fact, I have a nice little trick for this.” Her aura pulsed as she brought her power to the fore, her voice resonating with sinister magic. “Look at the coin.”
And despite herself, Altria found her gaze doing just that, locking onto the golden circle and refusing to look away. Her eyes widened. “What- What is this? What are you doing to me, witch?”
Jeanne cackled. “That’s right! I am a witch – the dragon witch! And you, my feisty little feeble fool, with those golden eyes and magical core, you’re a dragon! Which means you have to obey me~” The coin wavered, and then began to swing, Altria’s eyes following it. “Isn’t this fun? Aren’t you enjoying this? Come on my little pet, speak!”
“Gahh…” The king in black tried to stop herself, but her tongue wouldn’t obey her, and despite her best efforts her mouth soon began to pull itself open. “Stop this, fool! I swear I will destroy you for this indignity!”
“Heh heh~” Oh, this was even better than she’d ever imagined. “You know, I bet you would if I gave you the chance. I know if I keep doing this you’re going to start working out how to resist me – that’s why I kept this little ace in my pocket for so long! But it’s different now, because now I know how to use it to make sure you’ll never even dream of hurting me! So you just keep watching the coin, and-“
“You’re feeling sleepy…”
“-You’re feeling… sleepy…” Her eyes fluttered again. Wait, what? What was she…
“That’s it, sister, that’s it… Just keep watching the coin, good girl. You’re feeling very, very sleepy now…” *Giggle*
“S-sister…?” The dragon witch swayed, confused. What was this voice she was hearing? It sounded like… like…
The coin continued to swing.
“Veeeery sleepy…”
“Veeeerrry… sleepy…”
“What are you…” Altria trailed off into a yawn. She squinted, trying to see what her captor was doing, but it was no good. Her eyes were still thoroughly locked upon the coin.
“Your head is growing emptier…”
“Your head is… empty…”
“My head is… what…?” The king’s eyes fluttered – almost enough to block out that infernal coin, but not quite. Why did she feel so hazy…?
“Your thoughts are falling away…”
“Thoughts… falling away…”
“Falling…” She yawned again. It was strange. The haze in her head was getting thicker, but it looked to her like Jeanne was about to start drooling…
“Mmm, you’re gunna be such a cute little slut, sis!”
“Cute… slut…”
“Cute… slut?” The words bounced around in Altria’s head. A cute slut… was that her? Was that what she was supposed to be? She felt so confused…
“Kay! I’mma count down from, like, uh… three! Is that a lot, Master?”
“Gunna… count down from… three?”
“Three…” What was… What was happening…?
“Kay! Okay, so like, when I get to the bottom? You’re gunna fall into a nice deep trance for big sis now, okay?”
“When I get to the bottom… fall into a deep trance…”
“D-deep… trance…” Just watch the coin… swing… swing….
“Good girl~ So, like, three…”
“Three…”
“Ah…” Altria’s lips felt wet as her eyes began to droop.
“Um, uh… T-two…”
“Two…”
“Two…” Heavy lids sinking…
“Huh? Oh, one!”
“One…”
“One…” Almost closed…
“Annnnnd drop!”
“Drop.”
“Drop…”
The coin fell to the floor, clinking against the ground and rolling away as both Alters heads dropped, their chins resting against their chests, their breathing steady as their minds surrendered to sleep. Soft snores began to fill the cell.
Behind the slumbering witch, the door began to open…
-
Eyes fluttered, and then snapped open. As one, the two Alters sat bolt upright, their peaceful sleep banished. A quick scan of their surroundings revealed a large, dark room… and each other. In complete synchronicity, the two pale skinned blondes turned towards each other and, at the exact same moment…
“What the hell are you wearing?!”
“What the fuck are you wearing?!”
… Okay, so Jeanne’s foul tongue spoiled the mirror effect a little, but it was still rather close.
Altria was the first to recover her wits, though. She folded her arms, looking down at herself with a bored distain. Yes, it seemed she was wearing exactly the same costume as her rival – which honestly looked more like a bikini than something she would consider clothing. A revealing black bikini, too, little more than string to cover her ‘assets’ – and even more insultingly, one that her rival clearly filled out better than she did – along with a dark cloak that hung to the middle of her back – really more of a sash than anything. All in all, the outfit was both revealing and utterly impractical.
Someone was going to die for this. Maybe Jeanne. She hadn’t decided yet.
“Once again, I find myself caught up in one of your messes. Was this your intent when you said these fools work for you?” She sneered, getting to her feet and looking around. On closer inspection, this large dark room seemed to be some kind of theatre – she could see the seats and tables out below.
“I…” The blackened Jeanne looked nervous for a moment, but quickly covered it up. “I don’t know what you mean.” And quickly, she latched on to the most obvious distraction she could see. A smug grin spread over her face, and she leaned forward, her own ‘sash’ hanging open to display her more than ample body. “Why, are you embarrassed to be dressed like this? Ashamed to have your inferiority rubbed in your face so directly?” The grin became a burning, shining teeth filled smile. “I mean I get it – if I was cursed with a pathetic body like yours, I’d never want to show my hideous face in public either…”
“We can agree your face is hideous,” Altria shot with casual ease, “but I have no intention of putting my body on display for these debased savages. If you want to sell yourself out to them like a common whore, that is your business. Clearly you’ve already gotten started.” Hm. It was dark, and shadows lurked everywhere. It would be best to leave immediately, obviously, but where was the exit…
“You…!” Jalter, meanwhile, had taken two shots across the bow, and was already fuming. Perhaps she should have been focusing on escape – even she wasn’t so foolish as to ignore that things hadn’t gone entirely to plan – but without a master to keep her and her rival on track, well, sometimes an Avenger has gotta venge.
Her eyes narrowed. “You sell yourself short. Dance.”
Altria, who had already begun to walk away, froze in place. Then, an expression of something approaching horror (a very angry kind of horror) on her face, she found her hips beginning to twitch – and then shake. Slowly, and with as much resistance as she could muster failing to stop them, her arms rose up behind her head, and she found herself shaking her chest, leaning forward to give her invisible audience a small show.
Well. Her almost invisible audience.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jeanne nearly doubled over, tears forming at the edge of her eyes as she watched her most hated rival humiliate herself. Thoughts of getting away, of escape and regaining control, they all vanished from her head. This was far too good – clearly, her followers had just decided to treat her by granting her such a delightful opportunity to deal with this pest in the most embarrassing way possible. “Oh this is glorious! I can see why you were scared to show off – you’ve got nothing to show! Come on now, DANCE! Put your back into it! Shake that ass – maybe that’ll make up for your tits!”
The eyes of an angry dragon are not the kind of thing most people would want pointed in their direction. They promised death – an unholy kind of suffering that would pursue the afflicted from this life to the next, and then back again, utter annihilation of the ego and the id both, soul destruction. And yet as the glowing, burning eyes of Saber Alter fixed upon the blackened Jeanne, promising all of that and more, the dragon witch just laughed harder. Nearly fell backwards onto her ass as she howled, watching the helpless servant spin around and bend at the waist, shaking her ass to the audience just as ordered.
“Yes, yes!” The corrupted saint, the woman who could not exist, clapped with glee, and started wishing she had money on her that she could shove into her rival’s panties. Although, now that she thought of it… “You’re getting that hang of this, but you know what’s missing? This is a stripper stage – so Strip!”
A sound like rusted gears grinding to a halt filled the dancing Saber’s head. Thought became almost impossible – because of her rage, it should be noted, instead of the usual Cockaigne reasons. In short, jerky motions, she reached up for her sash, muscles tensed, poised to rip the garment away, leaving her in just this swimsuit…
… And then she halted, holding in place, though her hips still continued to shimmy.
“Eh?” Jeanne blinked, and then frowned. Was she resisting already? No way, no fair! Dragons were supposed to do what she said! Sure, she’d figured that this woman would eventually start to fight off her commands, but this quickly? Ridiculous! “I said STRIP!”
The noise of ripping fabric filled the air, and the cheap sash floated to the ground off stage, torn and thrown asunder without hesitation – the double command enough to overcome the dark knight’s resistance for now. But how long would that hold? Jeanne could already see the knowing look in Altria’s eyes now – the utter certainty that it wouldn’t be long before she broke free of this control completely.
Well fuck. She’d been enjoying that. But if that was the end of things, then maybe it would be best to… to…
… To, um…
Jalter’s eyes fluttered again. Knowledge from somewhere she couldn’t quite recall suddenly popped into her head.
… To get this girl a drink~ She flashed her rival a smirk, and snapped her fingers. “I’m being so inconsiderate. All that dancing you’re doing looks like hard work. I don’t want you to get dehydrated…”
From the shadows, a blonde woman with an hourglass figure and a brainless smile strutted onto stage, carrying a tray with a tall glass filled with pink, bubbly fluid balanced upon it. On seeing her, the Dragon Witch paused. There was something very familiar about-
… Her eyes fluttered…
… Huh? What had she been thinking? Eh, wasn’t important. She waved the big boobed bitch over towards her little dancing deva. “Here, quench your thirst. Drink up. Drink every last drop.”
She put every ounce of dragon commanding, will breaking power she had into the command, pouring all of her grail given right over her captive into her words. This might be the last chance she had before the Saber broke free – so it was important to… to have her drink this… for… Wait, what was she making her drink again?
The answer only came to her as she watched Altria hesitate, and then, like a puppet trying but failing to resist its strings, raise the glass to her lips and begin to sip. Oh right. Dumb Bitch Juice.
Jalter’s smile widened. This was going to be good.
Altria, meanwhile, was… concerned. She wasn’t panicking, it wasn’t kingly to panic. But she knew this was a bad situation. She could feel the mana radiating out from this ‘drink’ as it drew close. Knew how dangerous magical liquids could be to ingest. But despite this, she couldn’t resist the order of her rival. The power of the grail was just too much to fully defy. And yet, perhaps she could limit the damage? She could resist a little – take a sip, and then spill the rest, give herself time to fight against the command enough to break it totally. Yes, that was her best chance.
She took the glass up to her lips, and then tentatively, tentatively took a small swig…
The taste of pink flooded her senses. The sweetest drink that she had ever had. A delightful, heady mix of flavours, from soft and succulent fruit to the most sumptuous of wines. It was like the work of some kind of god, a devilish ambrosia that washed over the tongue and drowned out any objections. It was just so… so good. How could something so wonderful be harmful? All of her concerns seemed so silly now, after just the smallest of tastes… She couldn’t help herself – she took another gulp.
And another.
And then she lifted the glass over her head, and poured it directly into her mouth, completely heedless of the stream of pink washing down her face on either side, only caring that she drown herself in as much of this perfectly pink paradise as she could…
Heedless as her legs stiffened, straightened, and started to grow, becoming smooth and graceful.
Heedless as her ass plumped out, her hips widening into a heart shape, her formerly rather loose bikini bottom tightening so much it became a thong.
Heedless as her muscles shrank, vanishing away and leaving nothing but pure smooth, blemishless skin in their wake on her legs, arms, and tight, taut belly.
Heedless as her breasts swelled, pouring outwards as though they were balloons connected to a hose. From practically nothing they grew, not slowing until each was bigger than her head, until the bikini top that constrained them risked snapping from so much as a sharp breath.
Heedless as slutty makeup began to apply itself to her face, gothic black decorating her lips and eyelids, while her golden eyes turned a warm shade of pink as her irises reshaped into hearts, and her pale golden hair began to grow out behind her, falling out of its tight bun and dropping down to just above her pumped up ass.
Heedless as that warm, delightful pink feeling began to flood her brain, drizzling into her thoughts and making her mind wet, warm and sodden… steadily lap, lap, lapping away at the soggy mess that remained, until all of it was washed away with the pink tide, leaving her head so pleasantly empty feeling…
Heedless of how long her drink lasted, the glass seemingly to be completely endless, until it finally, finally ran dry.
“Mmm~” She purred, smacking her lips together as she finally lowered the empty glass. “Delish!” A giggle erupted from her chest, and the sudden jiggling drew her vapid gaze down to her delightful new assets. “Ohh! My boobies got all big an’ stuff! Cool!”
Jeanne watched the tyrant king of knights reach up and start to grope herself – drawing many a pleased and entirely brainless moan in the process – with wide eyes. W-wow. She’d known that drink was powerful (how had she known th-) but seeing it in action was something else! Holy-
Uh.
She shook herself. She was supposed to be in charge here. She couldn’t look surprised or anything. In fact, shouldn’t she be trying to enjoy this? Yeah! She needed to assert her dominance right now – prove that she was the big dog around here!
“Uh.” Her voice croaked. She was feeling really parched all of a sudden. Ugh, no distractions! “I mean… good! Excellent! Now then, slave…” Slave? The word sent thrills down her spine. “Now that you’re… refreshed… get back to dancing!”
The former Saber (she looked more like her lancer self now, really) blinked at her dumbly, as though she didn’t recognise her. “Huh? But I wanna play with my boobs!” she protested. She even thrust her chest out, top audibly straining at the motion. “Wanna feel them? They’re really nice~”
Tempting, but… “Didn’t you hear me? I said Dance!”
And immediately, that’s just what Altria did, dropping her self-exploration to once again fold her arms behind her head, thrust her chest and wiggle her hips. But this time there was no evil glare. No sign of resistance or disgust. No, in fact the blonde seemed quite delighted. “Okay then Mistress~ Whatever you like!”
Another delicious thrill ran down the blackened saint’s spine. Oh yes. Yes, yes, this was the stuff! This was definitely what she wanted!
And it didn’t take long for Altria to decide, in her now simplified head, that since the only audience around was Jeanne, she was the one who should get the most attention. So to the blackened saint’s surprise, she soon found those newly bouncy boobs being bobbed right before her eyes, and felt Altria’s amazing ass grinding up against her hips.
She was transfixed. She was entranced. She’d never known such desire in her heart before. The need to take this one, this big breasted bimbo brained whore, this simple, stupid creature who had once been her rival… The need to take her, to own her, to dominate her in every way was, was maddening. Overwhelming. She wet her lips. Her throat was dry.
A glass full of liquid was pushed into her hands. She couldn’t see what it was – her eyes were completely locked onto those bouncing tits.
“Here you go, sis!” A breathy, brainless voice chirped in her ear. “Drink up!”
Sure. She lifted the glass to her lips. Once she’d wet her whistle, she’d pin this bimbo down, and she’d… and she’d… Um… She’d… pink…? And. Uh.
Oh wow, this drink was really tasty~
…
Giggle
-
Mmmmm~
Oh!
Ah! Mn!
Yeah, tha’sh… Ah!
Giggle~
Giggle~
“Have you enjoyed the show, ladies and gentlemen? Well, good news – if you’d like to take either of these sluts home with you tonight, you can, just by winning tonight’s lucky citizen’s raffle! Every act on stage tonight is available for you to own for one whole month if you win… And of course, our lovely alter twin stars are available as tonight’s grand two-for-one prize…!”
Mmm… Voices were talkin’, but she didn’t care. They were always sayin’ silly hard words an’ stuff. All she wanted was a tongue or a cock in her pussy an’ a cock or a pussy in her mouth, an’ she had both those things!
Squirming, she tried to drive her tongue deeper into her stage rival/partner/lover/bimbo-bestie’s cunt, and was rewarded in turn as the blonde laying on top of her did just the same. Their stage acts always ended this way – their slutty dancing, the gaze of the crowd, the money shoved into their belts, it was all too much! They were always fuckin’ and fuckin’ before the halfway mark – sometimes even the audience got involved!
And then there was, like, the other thing? But she didn’t know what that was about. Sometimes she got sent off somewhere else to fuck or whatever – but that just meant doing what she was told somewhere else. No thinking involved – she was so lucky to be a… a… oh, what was her class again? No good, she was way too stupid to remember…
Oh! Now her nice owner was picking her and her bestie up – was it time to get fucked? That would be fun… But whatever – she’d do whatever they told her to do! It was always super fun~
-
“Oui monsieur, right away~” Jeanne curtsied, bending her knees and lifting her dress with a smile, not minding in the slightest that doing so revealed that she wore nothing between her black frilly skirt and her long black stockings. After all, what sort of French maid would wear something that made their greatest charms so inaccessible? There was a reason her black frilly cleavage window was so low cut, and her dainty white apron was so easy to tear away. Her white lace tiara was secured tightly, however – after all, that was the purest sign of a maid. It wouldn’t do for it to fall off if she was suddenly seized by her master while she was changing the bedsheets and fucked brainless for a few hours! Standards, s'il vous plait!
She turned and strutted off down the hall, her mincing steps in her black high heels perfectly timed to give her derriere the sway of a metronome. Her mission was a simple one – as was best, for a simple maid like her. She was but a servant, after all, not a person! Non, thinking was for people, naturellement. She was, how you say, the airhead anyway!
But even she could find her sister maid. After all, she knew exactly where she’d be. And, quickly making her way to the parlour, oui, correcte, there the silly slut was – on her knees as usual, massaging a houseguest’s cock with her massive breasts. D’accord.
She waited patiently – the master had not told her to hurry, after all – and even hoped that perhaps she would be invited to take part, or that the guest might desire to use her instead, even, but non, it was not to be. All too soon, the British bitch was rewarded with a spray of delicious essence across her face, and the man was gone, discarding them both like the servants they were.
“Tch…” The French maid tutted, and walked over, helping her sister maid to her feet and assisting with the clean-up, pushing her tits back into her frilly top and licking what little cum she could savour from the woman’s face. “You are always so, how do you say, basic! A cock is not an udder for you to milk like un Swedish girl!”
The British maid just giggled and drew her sister maid into a long tongue twisting kiss – sharing a little of the taste she’d collected. “But it’s what they like~” She laughed, squeezing the other woman’s ass as they separated, and drawing a pleased moan from her.
“Oui? Oh la la, that is… c'est magnifique…” The French maid said, squirming. “But non! The master, he has called for both of us.”
“Oh!” Immediately the British maid let her go, bouncing in place. “He wants us both?”
“Oui,” said the French maid, a touch breathless. “We are to, how you say, take the bed with him.”
“Awesome~” Grinning, the sister maid spun, her tits bouncing, ass swaying as she began to totter for the door. “It’s always fun fucking master on top of you~”
“Eh?” The first maid blinked, and then quickly minced after her. “Non non non. This time, you will see, I shall be the one on top of you!”
“We’ll see~”
And with that, the pair quickly hurried off, full bosoms bouncing, fat asses swaying, empty heads whistling, towards their delightful destiny, the pink hearts in their eyes glowing happily at the thought of the fucking they were about to receive. And though, indeed, the French maid soon found herself once again beneath her British sister, sucking on her clit while master pounded her in the ass, she could never be unhappy about the arrangement.
After all, she was a woman of simple desires – to fuck, suck, and please her Master, however she might be wanted. And in Cockaigne, she knew, those desires would always be satisfied.
Why would she ever want to be anywhere else?
