Director D.Z.
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The Servant Trap: Whore of Orleans (Fate Bimbo tf)
🕑 Added 2019-12-25 08:01:01 +0000 UTC (Contains bimbofication)
"In response to your summons I come. Servant Ruler, at your service... Though I must say, this is really pretty unusual, isn't it?" The line was delivered with a soft laugh and a warm smile as the blonde woman materialised within the summoning circle. A saint, a servant, who had come at the call of a holy grail war, the flag bearer Jeanne D'arc. "Normally a Ruler is summoned to supervise a grail war and keep things from getting out of hand, but I can sense that's not the case this time. Is that correct?"
"Yeah." Her master shrugged. "We do things a bit differently here."
Her having a master at all was pretty different, she had to agree. But she could sense there was more to it than that. The air here stunk of burned mana, in a way that she was sure any mages she had known would have screamed of as wasteful, and there was this... peculiar tingle that ran over her skin, like static electricity, or gathering thunder. But there didn't seem to be any threat - her master was watching her calmly, no sign of urgency in his bearing. Perhaps this was simply normal for this place - wherever it was.
Actually, now that she thought about it, where was she? She'd been called to France, she was sure, not long after her original death. But this dark room's architecture didn't look anything like the Orleans she knew so well. Had she been mistaken when she answered the summon? She'd thought she sensed a pure need for salvation...
"Strange," she said, her voice low. "I also expected the grail to grant me information on the situation at hand, but... Another difference?" She looked at her summoner in askance.
He wasn't entirely paying attention to her, leafing through some sort of folder instead. But he answered, none the less. "Mm, yeah, our grail... doesn't do that." He paused on a page, glancing between her and it a few times before nodding. "Let me see - you'd be Jeanne D'Arc, otherwise known as Joan of Arc?"
"Uh." It felt so awkwardly formal when he said her name like that. Like it was some kind of title. She couldn't say she cared for that - as far as she was concerned, she was just a humble farm-girl who had done as she must, no more, no less. "I suppose... I mean, yes, that is me. Am I not who you were expecting?"
He smiled, an actual, warm, human smile, and slid the folder away. "Oh no, we always knew you'd be coming. It was just a matter of when, not if."
She blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Well... That's a long story." He thought for a moment, and then began walking for the door, gesturing for her to follow. "Let's not talk about it here. Come! I have a good spot where we can sit and discuss to our heart's content. I'll answer any question you have."
She had no reason to refuse, and so she hurried after the man, her flagpole clutched tightly between her hands. From the darkened room they traveled through numerous odd stone corridors, each lined with strange technological devices that reminded her of things she'd seen during some of her summons to the future eras on earth. Magecraft and technology, mixed in such bizarre ways...
"What is the purpose of this building?" She couldn't help but ask. "What are ask these devices for?"
"Summoning," he answered simply over his shoulder. "It's rather difficult here, and we need to be precise. But don't worry, I'll explain everything soon."
As he spoke, he found a door and stepped through, leading Jeanne into a rather ornate reception room with blackstone floors and towering staircases, one of which she found herself at the top of. Descending rapidly, she soon followed him further, across those shining floors, and out through a grand set of doors that led outside. Beyond them...
The Saint gasped, her hands to her mouth. Outside she found herself stood in a massive city that seemed to extend without end. In every direction she saw buildings and spires - but most of what she saw was factories. They were everywhere, strange flames roaring up from within, stack after stack of chimneys pouring magical smoke up into the sky. A sky which was bright pink and showed no signs of familiarity to the servant.
"What... What is this place?" She blurted out. "Not Orleans, surely this can't be Orleans!"
The man paused and looked around at her. "Orleans? Was that where you thought you were going? Interesting..."
"So... It isn't?" But how was that possible? ... No. No, he spoke the truth, this was not her homeland. She knew that in her soul. Despite the fact that she'd been certain that was her destination, she'd somehow ended up somewhere completely different. "Then please, master, tell me, where are we?"
He shrugged, resuming his walk, hands sliding into his pockets. "The endless utopia. It's called Cockaigne."
Jeanne blinked. The name rang a bell - information she'd received from the grail during one of her summonings, she suspected, as she doubted she'd heard of it in life. Cockaigne, a legendary utopia where all life was luxury... a hedonistic place of pleasures. This certainly didn't look like any kind of utopia to her... Had humanity grown to desire such things after her lifetime? Well, it wasn't for her to judge.
There was something else, though. She could sense other servants around her. Not close by, but... It was a surprising amount of them. Dozens, maybe hundreds of heroic spirits. Why? How? Were they a threat?
If so, she had to get on top of things quickly. Her master was counting on her! ... And he was getting further and further away from her right now. Oops! Taking a deep breath of the smoky air, she hurried after him, watching the empty streets around them as they went as a loyal guardian.
She didn't have to go far, as it turned out. Her peculiar master turned a corner on the street and then promptly entered the first building he found. It didn't look any different from any of the many other faceless structures adding the cobbled paths to her - until she followed him inside. Then... Well, then its character leapt out. It was a bar. Actually, it looked quite cosy, with wooden floorboards, old, well-worn and solid tables, and a colourfully stocked counter - far and away from the oppressive atmosphere outside.
Perhaps this really was a better place to have a conversation after all.
Her master slid into a seat casually and waved for her to do the same across from him, which she did after a moment's hesitation. It was time to get some answers.
"So what'll you have to drink?"
Or not! She blinked again, surprised by how relaxed he seemed. "Ah, thank you Master," she said with a smile, heart warmed by his kindness. "But as a servant I don't require sustenance. There's no need to waste supplies on my needs."
"Nonsense." He waved a hand, and two large mugs appeared on the table, filled with frothy pink liquid. "You don't need to worry about resources in Cockaigne, they flow without end. Whatever other problems we may have, we'll never lack for drink! Here, my specialty." He pushed a mug towards her. "I call it a DBJ. You'll like it."
"A DBJ?" Carefully she took the mug and peered down into it, not wanting to spill any. "What does that stand for? Is it alcoholic?"
"So curious," he laughed. "It may have a touch of alcohol to it. Is that a problem for a saint?"
Jeanne blushed. "Sorry, sorry, it's just so much to take in! I can't help but ask questions. And please, master, I'm not comfortable with anyone calling me a saint. There's no need to elevate me - I am but a simple farm girl." Her lips twitched up into an innocent grin. "A farm girl who could always drink every boy in the village under the table. You don't need to worry if I can handle a little booze!"
Her master smiled, a cool, slick look. "Oh really? Well then do enjoy the city's... hospitality... And I'll explain how things work around here."
"Will you not be drinking as well?" she asked inquisitively. "I don't want to impose..."
"It'll be easier for me to talk dry," he chuckled. "Go on, drink up. I'll feel better if you do."
Well, she felt a little awkward about it, but she wasn't about to refuse the man's polite request. With a small shrug and a slight raising of her mug to his health, she lifted the drink and took a gulp. It tasted incredibly sweet, with a fullness of flavor that made her do a double take, staring again into her cup as she smacked her lips. "Wow,” she gasped, “I've never tasted anything like it!"
"You like?" He asked, and then smiled as she brought the mug back up to her lips with a nod, quickly taking a larger swig. "Then I'll begin."
"As you might have guessed," he said, relaxing in his chair. "This is a singularity. A moment, a location separated from the rest of the world, isolated in the flow of time, like a rock standing in a river. And the scope of that singularity is this endless city. If you left this room and began walking in any direction, keeping in a straight line and never turning, you would eventually find yourself here again, without ever seeing a gate or city wall - for in this realm, in Cockaigne, the utopian city is all."
She listened quietly, nodding along. This was information the grail really should have shared with her, but hearing it this way wasn't unpleasant. And as her Master spoke she continued to drink, slowly taking bigger and bigger gulps, resting for shorter and shorter pauses. The fact that her mug never seemed to empty went unnoticed.
"Naturally, as with any singularity, there are special rules here." He considered for a moment. "Actually, for that matter you might be somewhat overdressed by their standards, but that should sort itself out shortly."
"What- Hic!" Jeanne covered her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I... What do you mean?"
She felt oddly fuzzy - a nice, warm, pink fog starting to fill her head. She took another long gulp of her drink to try to clear it, not paying any attention as a few drops of pink liquid dripped down her chin and landed on her chest - where they sizzled, and quirky burned away the cloth of her armored top...
But her Master just shook his head. "You'll see. Are you feeling alright? The drink isn't too strong for you, is it?"
"I'm finesh..." She giggled, shaking her head lightly. "Fine. Shervantsh can't get, like... drunk anywaysh, you know?"
He seemed amused, though she couldn't quite work out why. "Of course not. How silly of me. Now where was I..."
"You were..." Jeanne paused to take another gulp of cool, refreshing pink. Why was it so hot in here suddenly? And why did her clothes feel so tight? She pulled at her collar, trying to get some air circulating under her armour to soothe the rising heat in her breast, not noticing the way the cloth was continuing to burn away - going faster and faster the more pink droplets spilled on it. She was quickly being left in just the metal parts of her armour, and little else. "You were talk- Hic! - talkin' aboush rulsh...?"
When had the room started spinning? It should stop that, it would make it very hard for her poor master to walk.
"Ah yes. Asmodeus has made a few decrees for arriving servants to obey."
Asmo... Asmodeus? Huh, didn't she, like, know that name? The saint frowned, twirling a blonde lock of hair around her finger as she tried to think through the increasingly thick pink fog in her head. "Ashmob- Asmosh- Ashobeus?" She slurred, trying a few times before giving up and taking another drink. She giggled as the fog grew thicker. "Who'sh that?"
There was something horribly sinister about the smile her master gave her, but it flew right over her fuzzy head. "Our ruler. The king of Cockaigne - the one who created all of this. You might know him better as the demon pillar of lust."
Glug glug glug
"Aaahhh..." Jeanne let out a happy sigh as she placed her finally empty mug back down on the table, licking her lips to get every last drop of pink. So good... Oh wait a sec...
"Wait, wha’ di’ja shay?" She asked innocently. It was hard to tell if she was doing a double take or if she'd legitimately zoned out while he was talking. Though judging by her master's laughter, he didn't mind.
"Oh, nothing you're going to care about soon. But here," he said, fishing under his jacket for a sheet of card. "These are the rules of our city. What do you think of them?"
The servant blinked and gingerly took the card, turning it over in her hands. After squinting at it for a moment she frowned, and then, using her flagpole to support herself, rose up to her feet, swaying closer towards the nearest light so that she could hold the card up to it and squint harder at the neat handwriting before her. "Hmmmmmmm..."
She stared at it intently, drifting heavily from left to right, before finally her dull eyes brightened.
"Waaaait," she said, giggling so hard that she nearly doubled over, her metal armor jangling as she shook. "Thish ish shilly!"
"Oh? Why's that?"
"Becaush!" She hiccuped, waving the card at him - or at the air three feet to his left. "I cansh read!"
He paused. "Oh." Another pause. "Then you may want to sit down."
"Huh?" She tried to steady herself on her flagpole, looking at him with a cute confused expression. "Whysh that?"
"Because if you were already that dumb then I just gave you a much bigger dose of Dumb Bitch Juice than you needed."
She blinked stupidly. What did that-?
And then the changes hit.
It was like being hit by warm, fizzly lightning, shooting straight down her spine. Her body stiffened up in an instant, forcing her to stand to attention, hands firmly at her sides, her armor clattering as she moved so suddenly. She might have minded, but the pink fog in her head thickened even more, solidifying into a firm block that wouldn't let her thoughts move so much as an inch, leaving her frozen in place, dumbfounded expression stuck on her face, her glazed eyes staring at nothing.
With a soft chuckle her master leaned over and plucked the card from her stiff hands. "Oh well, no use crying over it now. Let me read the relevant parts out to you, since you're incapable of doing it yourself."
He looked down the list and cleared his throat. "No female servant may have breasts smaller than her head."
Jeanne quivered, her body heating up, the power from all the juice she'd drunk coalescing in her chest. With her already stupefied mind out of the picture she couldn't do more than let out a lusty moan as the pleasure built, and then expanded. Her armor stretched and groaned, but could do nothing to stop her breasts, already of decent heft, doubling in cup size, shredding most of what was left of her outfit and letting her boobs out to bounce.
"Not bad." Her master wasn't shy about enjoying the view before he continued. "Next rule:"
"No female servant may have a trunk with insufficient junk. Odd wording, I know, but..."
He didn't need to finish. Already the remnants of Jeanne's armor were futilely protesting as her hips began to inch outwards, her backside swelling up to match her tits. With a metallic snap they finally gave up the ghost completely, falling away on both sides and leaving the busty, fully reared saint completely naked, displaying both her thickening body and her dripping arousal all at once.
"Impressive. You make a fine hourglass, Jeanne. But I know just adding to your saint graph without taking anything away can make your form quite unstable, so let's sort that out with this next one, shall we?"
"All female servants must be air-headed morons."
Another wanton moan split the air as the intoxicating heat flowed up through Jeanne's body and into her head. The pink block that had filled her brain couldn't hope to withstand such power, and quickly melted down - melting her thoughts down along with it into a pleasure filled sticky paste. Steadily, the saint's sharp wits began to dull, her lightning quick mind slowed, and then stumbled and stopped completely. Her glazed eyes lidded, and her lips slid into a wide, stupid smile.
"All female servants must change their class to Stripper, Slut, or Whore..."
The ruler designation well and truly lost to her, Jeanne's saint graph, her very essence and foundation as a servant, altered all too easily. The changes weren't much - she lost access to her authority over any grail wars, her possession of all lingering command seals was revoked, and her damage protection against other servants vanished, while in return she received Enhanced Stamina and Independent Action (Whore) - and with her newly reduced metal faculties, it was unlikely she'd ever notice them. For one last touch, the final fragment of her armor - her helm - melted down and flowed up to her now bountiful bosom, pooling around both of her nipples and forming little cross shaped piercings - a small reminder of what she'd once been.
"And of course, last but not least: All female servants must be lusty, busty, bubbly bimbo whores - but I think you're a bit ahead of the game there, Jeanne.”
Indeed she was – the last few alterations were quite minimal. The blonde tittered, an amused giggle making her chest quake and her booty shake as they both plumped up one extra size, and her eyes filled with the pink that had flooded her head, her irises reshaping into sweet little hearts while her lips plumped into nice, thick suckers.
Then it was done, and the former Ruler stood there, air whistling through her ears. Her master, who’d stayed seated as he watched the whole transition, seemed pleased. “There you go. How do you feel, Whore?"
Slowly, light returned to the servant's eyes. She looked down, confused at what had happened to her. Her pink eyes blinked. What were those big things on her chest? Where had they come from? Carefully, she reached up, and-
“Oooohhhh~” Her piercings jingled. "Jeannie feels, like, reeeeaaaally good, Master~"
"And can you tell me who you are?" "Mmm... Of course Master~" she answered with a breathy sigh. Then the hands toying with her nipples slid under her breasts and lifted them up, offering them to the man in front of her, her voice taking on a bright yet mechanical tone, as though she were reciting a memorized line rather than speaking for herself. "In response to your summons, I cum~ Brainless, mindless, and eager to obey, I'm three holy holes, ready warm and wet for you to enjoy! I fuck, I suck, I do whatever you say! Your bimbo slave slut, your big boobed toy - Servant Whore, here to service! Use me at your pleasure~" Then she blinked and giggled again, the mechanical tone vanishing. "Or, like, somethin'!"
"No doubt." The man smiled and slid out of his chair, standing up to inspect his new property. "This is the fate of all servants who are drawn into Cockaigne. Which is why we make sure every servant the grails summon to help stop out 'Solomon's' plan is intercepted and drawn here instead. Humanity's last defense, her greatest heroes - drawn into endless, mindless bliss while history burns." He reached out and slapped her ass, watching it bounce as she squealed. "Doesn't that sound like paradise to you?"
"Like... huh?" She blinked at him, chewing lightly on a finger pressed up against her puffed up pouty lips. The other hand had continued exploring her new body, and was now rubbing enthusiastically between her legs. "Um, I don't get it?"
He chuckled. "That's fine, slut. I really did give you too much juice, after all."
The former saint's face lit up, reminded of her delicious damnation. "Ohhh, that stuff was sooooo nicccce," she moaned, still rubbing away. "Like, do you have any more of it?"
And her master just grinned, unzipping his pants. "Of course. I've got all the juice you could ever want. Get on your knees, slut, and I'll let you have it."
"Oohh! Yes Master!" She fell to her knees eagerly, tits jiggling, her innocent enticement impossible to resist. Despite her head being entirely empty, she was quite certain she would enjoy whatever came next.
And so the hallowed saint, the maiden of Orleans, sank into eternal hedonistic debauchery, just like many servants had before her, and many would after, remade into a brainless, mindless slut serving at a demon's pleasure. Such was the power of the endless utopia...
-----
"Servant, Caster. Reincarnation of the Sky God Horus, I, Nitocris have answered your summons." The dark skinned servant stepped forward, walking out of the summoning circle, and looked around. "Strange, I thought I was on my way to the desert. You there! Are you my master? Tell me, what is this place?"
The man smiled. "I assure you, your magnificence, I shall explain everything. But this room's a little stuffy, isn't it? Certainly no place to greet a pharaoh. I know a nice club not far from here - how about I show you the way over and we can discuss the details there?"
Nitocris's cheeks reddened, and she coughed, trying to maintain her authority. "You make a good point. Very well! I will allow this. Please, master - be my guide."
He bowed at the waist. "Happy to be of service." And as he turned, he slid a small card that he'd been playing with back into his jacket pocket.
If Caster had seen it, she might have recognized it as a servant's class card, though the design on it would have been unfamiliar to her. On the back, a golden image showed a well endowed woman laying on her back, her legs spread and her arms behind her head, her body fully on offer, a lust filled smile on her face. And on it's front, was the frozen image of a woman that even Gilles De Rais wouldn't have recognized - A blonde woman with big breasts and a big booty, stood with one hand toying with her pierced nipples, while the other was caught pumping between her legs. Her expression was a simple, stupid blank smile, and the hearts in her eyes merely added to the image of a lust struck woman - a cocksleeve for anyone to use.
Jeannie the Whore was the inscription just underneath her picture. And no one would ever mistake her for a Saint.
