The dark witch stood at the edge of the cliff above the heroes, her black hair fluttering in the high winds. She was known as Spirit-Eater, the scourge of the kingdom, and had been so for over a hundred years. She was believed to be ageless, immortal, the child of a demon.  If the spell she was weaving was completed, their home town was doomed, condemned to die in a magical disaster. Anderson squatted behind a tree as another bolt of spectral flame whizzed by him, his hands in a vice grip on his spear’s shaft. The villainess needed to be stopped, and he and his friends were prepared to suffer the ultimate price for it. He was a wiry man, tall and sinuous, skilled with a spear and cool-headed in a fight. This was at odds with Iowe, the orange-haired elf girl that leapt from tree to tree, letting arrows fly at the witch even as her defensive spells deflected them. The witch raised her hand, her skin pearl white, and flung an orb of searing white flame at the archer. Despite all her speed, the spell struck her head, sending her falling violently to the ground.
“No!” screamed Nigel as he leapt from cover, darting towards his fallen companion. Nigel with his short white beard and heavy chain mail, his clerical mace held tightly in both hands.
Anderson screamed, “Calm yourself Nigel! We can’t give her any advantage!” He had to get the situation under control. Maxwell, the ragtag group’s mage, already lay in a beaten heap by the ground, his last spell sending the witch’s summoned devil screaming back to the abyss, but not without it inflicting a mortal wound. His bald head lay limply over his chest, his dark skin marred with blood.

	Anderson slid out of cover, aware that the sorceress’ attention was on the enraged priest. Nigel’s faith could protect him from a spell or two, but no more than that. Anderson had to act quickly. The witch wear next to no armor; a pair of gold pasties connected by a chain of the same metal the only armor adorning her torso, ornamental black and gold paulrons and a golden crown on her shoulders and head. A black and gold thong covered her groin, and thigh-highs of the same material were her excuse for leg protection. Though she was flinging mighty spells, her stance was unsteady, her legs twitching and wobbling. Anderson aimed at the witch’s exposed midriff, pulling his spear back for one mighty throw. As he let it loose, Nigel fell to his knees, black magics overcoming him and causing his skin to blister. The spear flew towards the sorceress, his aim true. Anderson had practiced enough with his weapon to know a good throw when he made one, and this one would impale the hated woman, he was sure of it. Nigel screamed, convulsing as the spell did its dark work. The spear was scant feet from her, its point true and deadly.

	There was a blinding flash of orange. No spear impacted the witch’s smooth torso. Instead, a harmless chickadee fluttered through the air where it had flown. Anderson fell to his knees, hopeless. His last hope had failed. They had lost. 

	The witch’s evil incantation rouse in volume, the wind picking up speed and black clouds forming. A storm arrived, crackling with green lightning. The foul clouds descended on their town, blasting it with dark bolts. Flaming hailstones fell, buffeting the buildings. “It can’t be“ said Anderson. “Its all over, all is lost.“ 
It was not long before the heroes home town was gone.

	Cackling with evil glee, the evil witch flew down from the cliff, alighting beside the downcast Anderson. 
“You’re right” she said, her voice elegant and beautiful, “its all over for you Anderson. But for you and your friends, it has just begun.”

	She raised her hands and an eldritch light appeared, sending snakelike tendrils to Anderson and his companions. The ghostly limbs entered their mouths and noses, following Anderson no matter how much he moved. He couldn’t bear to admit it, but the witch was quite beautiful. Her long hair that reached the small of her back, her blemish free skin the color of the moon, her symmetrical face with its sharp, beautiful features. Even in combat her makeup was unblemished, dark eyeliner and crimson lips untouched by the fight or the weather. Her form was all curves; huge breasts and a huge behind, curvy hips and a thin waist, a perfect hourglass. 

	The ghostly limbs lifted all of the fallen heroes, dangling them in the air. Slowly, the arms brought them together above the witch. The bodies touched, briefly pressing up against each other. Then, by the laughing sorceress’ spell, they overlapped. Each one occupied the same space as the other, the light growing brighter and the limbs more solid. The heroes forms became indistinct, converging on each other and overlapping more, until only one glowing human silhouette remained. 

	The figure fell to the ground, naked and confused. It’s mind was a blur of conflicting memories, emotions, personalities. It remembered Iowe’s long life of thievery and crime, Anderson marrying his childhood sweetheart Yolanda, Nigel’s strict upbringing within the clergy, the years Maxwell spent as an apprentice mage, cooped up in an enchanted tower. All were there, but all these memories were distant, as though they were watched or read about, rather than experienced. The figure cupped it’s head, groaning in confusion. It had a soft, featured, almost feminine face, much like Iowe’s, with long flowing orange hair. It’s eyes were grey and old, a relic of Nigel, much like it’s narrow shoulders and long arms. The figure’s skin was tan, not as dark as Maxwell’s, but not as light as Iowe’s. It’s torso was sinewy and athletic, so much like Anderson’s taught physique. Cute was a word that came to mind when the witch observed him. A cursory inspection revealed the new body was a He, a lengthy manhood hanging between his thighs. Not that any other members of the party new it, but the member was identical to Maxwell’s; smooth and devoid of flaws. 

	“You’ve melded beautifully!” snarled the witch, her spell fading in the stormy weather. The figure struggled to respond, but couldn’t summon a name. Was it still Iowe? It still felt the longing for the outdoors she felt, her fear of old age and love of song. But where was her sly demeanor, the cunning nature she had used to carve out a life as a thief? Of Nigel there was still the want to be part of something greater than himself, his desire for respect and honor still strong. But his unwavering faith in his lord, his fiery temper and the speed of which he could quote scripture? Where had they gone? The figure dry heaved, clumsily rocking on the ground. Just like Maxwell, the new form was always questioning things; how long would this enchantment last? Why was it placed on them? Could it be undone? And just like Maxwell the new being, clutching it’s stomach in revulsion, was slow to react, pausing for a moment before it ever took action. And of Anderson, was the need to dedicate himself. To always work and never be complacent, regardless the task. But gone were Anderson’s fear of heights and spiders, his taste for ale and spiced foods, his sense of humor. The new figure lacked Maxwell’s silver tongue, stuttering half-hearted words as it tried to respond to the sorceress.

	“Wh-wh-w-hat h-h-have you done? Wh-wh-who am…we? I?”
“Silence toy!” screamed the witch, backhanding it across its tender face.
“You will only speak when spoken to. You are a toy now, no greater than furniture, alive only for my amusement.” She bent down to the pained hybrid, putting a long-nailed finger under it’s chin. Still her legs quivered, her toes twitching to some unseen rhythm.
“You don’t deserve a name, not yet at least. Please me and maybe, just maybe, you’ll earn one.”
The hybrid struggled to form words, trying to move many more mouths than he had.
“N-n-no. W-ww- I am a p-p-person. Y-you should t-t-treat m-me like one.”
A powerful smack sent the hybrid reeling, it’s nude form collapsing into the dirt.
“Such insolence! You need to learn your place, toy.”

	She squeezed his cheeks, forcing him to look up at her. 
“I am Elinerna, I am a person” she giggled mischievously, pinching her rear and then her left breast painfully.
“You, are a nameless object. You are not a person. You are mine.”
Her fingers glowed green, a ring of green light forming around her captive’s neck. Soon, a dark green collar adorned his neck, tight enough that one couldn’t put a finger between it and the victim. Connected to it was a long green cord, which Elinerna held curled around her fingers.
“Come toy, I have much to show you.”
A great black portal appeared behind her, a massive disc of inky blackness. With shaky legs, she walked into it, dragging her slave behind her.
	
	The sorceress’ dark fortress was massive, a trio of great black spires rising from the mountainside, the entirety of which was hollowed out and filled with endless dungeons.
“This is my collection.” said Elinerna, dragging the struggling slave behind her.
They stood in a massive rotunda, a spiral staircase winding up the side of it. Every surface save the stairs was lined with small black portals, barely a handbreadth wide. Out of nearly all of them hung male genitals; cocks and scrotums as far as the eye could see. Small, warty goblin wangs hung flaccidly beside those that looked human, canine or equine. Large, crooked ogre phalluses hung here and there, and if one was observant they would spy one or two that looked draconic, insectoid or stranger.
“All of my servants posses a portal in their crotch, the other end of which lies here.”
She opened her fingers and another appeared between them, a limp goblin cock hanging out of it.
“I can open or close any at will, and should I require it, attach them to any surface.”
She dismissed the flaccid member with a wave. 
“When I so desire, you will service them, and when I am not with you your cock will lie in one of these portals. This is so if I want it, I can have it at hand at any time. If you disappoint me, I can hurt that organ with but a whim.”

	The hybrid wanted to question why he was being subjected to this, but held his tongue. Forcefully, the sorceress pulled him down to his knees.
“Follow me toy. You must walk on all fours, as befitting an inhuman cur like yourself.”
She sashayed forward, her plump ass in prominent view of the hybrid. He could barely tear his eyes away from her, the witch’s amazing figure unearthly beautiful. Still, her legs trembled and her walk was at times clumsy. She let out a surprised “Ooh” at random and jerked up tall, pulling the hybrid’s leash tight. She giggled and slapped her rear, kneading the soft flesh in an almost cruel grip. “like that slut? learn your place yet?” she mumbled, glaring at her rear.

	They strode through the dark halls, the nude gestalt fixated on Elinerna. Part of it wanted to escape, to pursue the course of action that would result in freedom fastest. Part of it wanted to wait and analyze the situation. Part of it was confused and aroused. A portcullis opened, revealing a line of dark, closed cells. In each was a beautiful women, each with huge breasts and flowing hair, full, kissable lips and flawless skin. All of them had blank expressions on their face, smiling in stupid bliss. Though their wrists and ankles were chained they seemed require no binding. 
“This is my Seraglio. They are for good servants who I am bored with, or when I want softer companionship. All except thirteen…“ she glared at a far cage, a brown-skinned woman with black hair inhabiting it. Unlike the others her face was full of revulsion, her chains tight and restrictive unlike the other bimbo’s loose bindings. A goblin in a dark cloak with a pointed hood hopped up to the witch, groveling at her heeled boots.

	“Tthe bletheth me! Tthe bletheth me with her beauty! Oh what doeth my great mithtreth command of me?” he slurred, prostrating himself at Elinerna’s feet. 
“Hold the new toy’s leash. Me and thirteen have business to attend to.”
“Yeth mithtreth, I do ath I am ordered” he said as he took the green cord. The buxom witch strutted over to the cage holding the dusky broad, flaunting her hips and stroking her breasts.
“You have been bad thirteen. What was it you were doing again?”
“That’s not our name! We were people once, before..this” Thirteen looked down at her curvy form. “I finally remember, and I wont take it any more! I wont!”
“That’s unfortunate thirteen, I know my ogres favor you. But you’ve seen the punishment before, what I do to disobedient girls…”
“We aren’t girls! We were men once! You cant keep us like this any more!”

	Elinerna strode into the cage, making disappointed clicking noises and shaking her head.
“You could have been one of my favorites thirteen, and you threw it all away.”
The witch rubbed her pearl hands over Thirteen’s dusky shoulders, cooing and making bedroom noises as she did so.
“So soft, so smooth. There was so much you could have been Thirteen, such pleasure we could have shared.”
Her kneading intensified, Thirteen’s shoulders seeming to fall and shudder with each repetition. The new hybrid wanted to scream, but the goblin pulled tightly on his collar, chocking him when he needed to shout. There was no collar for Thirteen though, and she shouted and panicked, trying to flee from the curvy enchantress. Thirteen’s shoulders seemed to change, the skin falling and collapsing under Elinerna’s attentions. Her shoulders turned to putty, flowing like mud as the woman writhed. 
“Good girl, what I could make from you. I put so many into making you, and you wasted that gift. I hope in your next shape you do a better job thirteen, you have so much potential.”

	Elinerna’s hands rolled the woman’s hips, her flesh becoming more malleable with each squeeze. As she liquefied, to the new hybrid’s horror, Elinerna, on her shaky, quivering legs, picked up handfuls of the woman-shaped puddle and applied it over her breasts, wrapping it around and making a muddy, brown tube-top from it. The brown muck quivered, quickly solidifying into a reflective metal bra, the spiky tips of it barely covering her areolas, its chrome frame pushing up her massive bust. The witch giggled, rolling the rest of the mass into a ball and pressing it against her midriff, rubbing it into her until it all but vanished. Somehow, her already flawless skin was even smoother, slightly reflective and clean.
“What a good girl she could have been. I hope she finds her true calling in my navel and here” she flicked the metal bra, causing a metallic ‘tinnnggg’. 
“You look ravithing my lord” said the goblin, passing the leash back to her.
“Thank you my servant, I will remember your words. Toy, remember that well. That is your punishment if you ever, EVER disappoint me. Do you understand?”
The hybrid paused to consider this, and was rewarded by a harsh tug on his leash.
“I SAID, Do You Understand?”
“Yes ma’am. Yes I understand.”

	She slapped him across the face, her black nails leaving red marks on his soft cheek.
“You will call me mistress, slave, or you will suffer the same fate as thirteen. Now; Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes Mistress I understand” babbled the confused slave, his long orange hair falling in front of his face as he tried to cradle his bruise. 
“Wonderful, I can see you learn fast. Come slave, there is much more to see.”

	They walked up many flights of stairs, Elinerna leading the way. The hybrid could see the underside of her thong, the material darker than the rest, as if it were wet and soaked. She almost tripped as a something unseen caused her to yelp and stumble, absentmindedly stroking her cleavage as she did so. “that’s more like it bitch, you’re finally finding your calling” she mumbled, stroking her ass in full view of the hybrid. At the top of the staircase was a grand black door, its surface decorated with sensual images; men, women and beasts all fornicated on it, their genitals depicted in smooth relief. They almost seemed alive, like they were moving, how real they seemed. And after what the hybrid had just seen, they might have been. The witch grabbed a vulva-shaped handle and pried the door open, revealing a cavernous bedchamber. Statues of nude men and women decorated the space alongside soft cushions and couches, paintings of lewd and violent acts taking up the walls. A lavish purple bed occupied the center, silken veils hanging from the bedpost. There were dozens-no, hundreds of foot-long rectangular holes in the wall, each only about an inch thick. They were spaced evenly, one every eight or nine feet. The hybrid felt claustrophobic, wishing it could leave this hellish place and go outside, but too fearful of the terrible act he had just witnessed to act.

	Elinerna led her slave to her bed, tying the cord around a phallic statue nearby. 
“Now slave, you are going to watch, and you are going to enjoy what you see.”
She slowly, seductively walked to the bed, rolling onto it and leaning over so her massive bust bared its cleavage to the hybrid. Slowly, almost painfully so, she undid her boots, sliding them off her alabaster legs with a flourish. She flexed her toes and another ripple went through her, causing her to moan and hump the air. Her fingers hooked under the tiny strings that kept her thong around her curvy bottom, gently working them down her lower body. The hybrid’s eyes were fixated on her, unable to look away. A nagging part of him said they shouldn’t subject themselves to this, should look away, but so much more of him enjoyed this. As the strip of black fabric descended down witch’s thighs, something came out of her. The hybrid could see two of the black portals from earlier, erect cocks dripping with fluids protruding from them, embedded in the material of the undergarment. One was clearly human, leading from the thong into her pussy, the other a huge, ogre-sized cock buried in her anus.

	“Ooh” moaned Elinerna as the dicks left her with a pop. She snapped her fingers and they came, shooting spunk onto her abdomen with powerful squirts. She dismissed them and two more appeared, suspended in midair. These two, obviously goblin, faced each other, with just barely enough space in between for the sorceress. She took her place between the airborne genitals, rolling her prodigious ass onto one and wrapping her lips around the head of the other. The hybrid could see this in profile, her huge tits bound in her new metal bra hanging down far enough to graze the bed sheet. She rocked back onto the dick penetrating her behind, then leaned forward into the one in front of her, spit-roasting herself between the phalluses. She rocked back and forth, gulping at the cock in her mouth and humming gently on its length, gyrating her hips and squeezing the cock buried in her butt as she did so. The hybrid was entranced, and though it wanted to find the answer to how this all were possible it was much more focused on stroking its smooth, hardening dick. Elinerna tickled the sack of the cock in front of her, stroking the underside of the testes as she blew it. She quickly let go to pinch her vagina, an upset look on her face. A calm, blissful expression returned as she dismounted the cocks, gently stroking them with her hands as she crossed her legs and faced the hybrid.
“Impressed, toy? That could be you if you do as I say.” She kissed the tip of each cock, the goblins exploding with pent up spunk as she did so. The cum blasted into her face, the white semen hanging off her perfect visage.

	She stood up and dismissed the cocks, wiping a bit of spooge from her face and licking it delicately. Reaching behind her back she undid some hidden clasp, removing the reflective metal bra and giving it a tender stroke.
“Isn’t that so much better my dear? You do such a good job as my bandeau, I’m so sorry I thought you would work as a person.”
She tossed the bra to the side without a second thought and it fell with a clang. Her hefty tits fell out, their massive globes capable of fitting an H-cup bra. Their milky smoothness captivated the hybrid, the golden disks of the pasties having vanished with her bra. The witch gripped her nipples between two fingers, gently rubbing them and making soft moans of pleasure.
“Do  you like what you see toy? Do you want to come over and serve your mistress?”

	Still masturbating, he nodded after a half-second to process her words. “Yes Mistress, yes I do.” Elinerna snapped her fingers and the tether holding the hybrid vanished. The hybrid tentatively took a step forward before falling to his hands and knees, crawling over to the bed. The witch, still wearing her golden crown, sat up on her knees and tossed her hair, smiling a wicked smirk. With the grace of an elven thief, the hybrid climbed onto the bed, his long hair framing his feminine face. He stopped when his entire body, lithe and athletic, fit onto the bed frame beside the witch. He had just put himself in terrible danger, this sorceress could do awful things to him with a wave of her hand, and he had just put himself within arms reach of her. He swallowed dryly, his grey eyes wide with fear. Elinerna’s hand, so soft and perfect, slowly started to go ball up the hybrid’s locks, using his long hair as a handle. She lay back and raised her crotch, pulling the hybrid to within inches of it.
“Lick” she commanded, nibbling on her free pinky finger as she did so.
The hybrid wanted to take a tiny moment to think the command over, but his fear overpowered him. He stuck out his tongue and leaned in, cautiously placing his smooth muscle on her mons, just above her pink cooch. He slowly dragged his tongue downward, over her labia, swirling it around and lazily making patterns with it. The tongue withdrew and extended by miniscule amounts, tickling the witch’s sensitive areas. Where had he learned that? The elf he was descended from? The warrior? Both?
“Oooh, very nice toy, very nice. Now go faster before I loose my patience!” She cried, pulling his hair tightly into a ball. The hybrid closed his eyes, the sweet, intoxicating smell of her cunt increasing his already wild libido tenfold. He tounged her faster and deeper, this time to Elinerna’s satisfaction. She moaned softly, at odds with her cruel demeanor, her already slick pussy growing wetter with each lick. She suddenly looked angrily at her left breast and slapped it, then pinched it cruelly, almost drawing blood. Her grip quickly became gropes as she rubbed her nipples and massaged her breast flesh. The hybrid rolled his tongue, something he was sure only Maxwell could do, and wrapped it around the witch’s clit, rubbing it quickly with his wet muscle. Her grip on his hair tightened immensely, hurting him and he gave a pained yelp.
“I said only talk when you’re spoken to toy!” The witch said, almost disappointingly. “Furniture does not get to complain!”. She yanked him by his hair onto his back, his erect manhood sticking proudly in the air. One of her hands pressed firmly against his chest keeping him pinned with supernatural strength. His hands gripped the bed sheets, balling up the pink sheets in his fists. Her hand let go of his fiery strands, stroking slowly and sensually down his face, tracking his soft chin and small jaw with her tender, flawless fingers. Some part of him, the part that belonged to the warrior (what was his name again? The hybrid struggled to recall.), the part that dedicated itself to whatever was at hand, was finding something to do. To be the best it could be at pleasing her, to make sure he was greater than all the other concubines she kept. Her fingers brushed his collarbone, his sternum, then traced down his abdomen to his groin. Her hand gripped his cock, stroking it up and down, caressing the length with her flawless digits. After giving him a few pumps she lowered her head to his scrotum, licking the fleshy sack and occasionally sucking on a testicle. He fought the urge to moan, to disobey her commands. Nigel’s life as a man of the cloth helped; long hours of silent vigil helping the hybrid hold his tongue just as much as the skills Iowe developed as a silent thief. His cock was so hard, so goddamn hard! And she kept stroking it! He wanted to cum, to find release, but that was something that her normal lays would do, he had to resist, to strive for excellence! 

	“Excellent control toy, you’ve earned the right to be ridden. If you cum before I say so you’ll find yourself as an addition to my tits, do you understand?”
The hybrid only nodded and swallowed, momentarily doubting his abilities. One quarter of him had never been with a woman, the priest maintaining a vow of celibacy. Even Iowe knew how to pleasure female company, would Nigel’s lack of inexperience be his death? She sat up and straddled him, taking her position between his legs. Her colossal tits hung above him, their pendulous movement captivating the hybrid. Lowering her thick thighs, she brought his cock in contact with her vagina, grinding against it and teasing him with entrance. The hybrid gritted his teeth and tried not to make a noise, the effort growing harder with every moment. Elinerna’s hands took up position beside his shoulders, the witch now leaning over him just inches from his body. Her huge tits were pressed almost flat against his chest, their soft, pillowy flesh feeling heavenly. Her black hair hung around her crowned face and mixing with her victims orange locks. A wicked smile playing on her rouge lips, her dark eyelids half lidded and full of bliss.

	Finally, she lowered herself onto his turgid member, an excited moan escaping her lips. The tip fully entered her, followed by almost half of his smooth shaft. Gods above she was tight! For all the cocks she must have ridden in her hundred year lifespan, her cunt was just as tight as a virgin’s, the soft inner flesh squeezing him as he entered, lubricants making his cock wet and slick within moments. Elinerna started pushing herself up, then lowering herself, using the bed as support and leverage. She did so slowly at first, allowing long and probing insertions rolling her hips and bouncing her ass as she did so, before increasing the rate at which she let herself bounce on his cock.
“Enjoying yourself toy? Savoring your mistress’ cunt?”
The hybrid had to allow himself a moment to process her words before replying “Yes mistress, you feel so good. I want nothing more than to please you mistress, please go as long as you want.”

	It was a gamble. If she took up his offer he wasn’t sure he would last. But if she took it well, it could garner favor with her. Her eyes lit up, and she gave her clit a playful squeeze, muttering something to it as she did so.
“Finally getting the idea I see? That’s faster than most take to catch on toy, I’ll give you that.”
	She doubled her pace, moving her hands to his chest, just above his belly-button. She rested her weight on him, rearing up and squeezing her tits between her arms. The hybrid needed to cum, he could feel the seed welling up in his loins, but he tried to hold back. She slowed down, but went much deeper with each descent, her tight cunt enveloping his shaft. 
“Grab my tits slave, do it now!” She commanded, her voice loud and full of need.
He obliged, taking fistfuls of tender tit-flesh and kneading it in his hands, rubbing his thumb over her nipple just like Anderson would with his wife. He had to cum, he had to. He could distract himself with her breasts, playing with them like Maxwell had wanted the moment he saw her, despite the witch being an enemy. The witch moaned in ecstasy, throwing her back head, her dark hair whipping backwards as her cry echoed around the room. 

	Suddenly she stepped off of him, rolling to his side and facing away from him.
“Fuck me slave, quickly! I command you!” One of her hands was playing with her clitoris, rolling her sensitive button around and around with ecstasy. The other rested on the hybrids rear, gently pulling him into her. He rolled onto his side and, tentatively at first, rested one hand on the witch’s thin waist and the other beneath her breasts, cradling the base of her colossal mounds. He hastily thrust his hips forward, aiming for her cunt but missing and rubbing hs cock between her cheeks.
“I didn’t say you could tease me toy! One more slipup and I’ll-oooh” her last words were punctuated by the hybrid finally finding his mark, his rock-hard cock slamming into her pussy. 
“Harder slave, don’t make me ask again!”
The hybrid pulled on her, using her as leverage, prodding her innards with his penis. He slammed into her, his balls slapping against her fat rear, the witch screaming in pleasure. Her hand squeezed down on him, leaving red scratch marks where she gripped. Her cunt contracted as well, clamping down on him as a spasm of orgasm shot through her. His cock was in a vice-like grip, the witch’s pussy milking him in it’s tight folds. Still he managed to hold back his cum, slamming into just as hard and twice as fast. The witch’s hands sought for purchase on the edge of the bed as the hybrid’s cock pulsed, once, twice, then a third time.

	Panting in pleasure, she pulled herself off his still firm phallus, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. 
“Impressive slave, very impressive. I think I may have a new favorite for my toys; we are going to have lots of fun together.”
Her elegant hand stroked his cock, pumping it as fast as he had thrust into her. He humped back up in response, his body still thinking he was wrapped in her delightful pussy. She redoubled her efforts, and as soon as she did so his semen exploded out of his member, flying into her cleavage and upper torso.
“Oh yes slave, you can talk now. We are going to have so much fun.”
He screamed, all his pent up sexual exertion and delight exploding out of him in one moment. He screamed until he was out of breath, panting and falling by Elinerna’s sizeable legs. 
“Hmm, very good for furniture. Very good indeed. I might give you a name after all toy, if you are to be my favorite consort. From now on you will be called Gwalt, after my first dog. He was hornier and more loyal than you, but you’ll do for now. Forget whatever names or identities you had before; you are my Gwalt now and forever.”

	She dressed herself in a black sarong and a golden G-String, producing a harness of gold and black leather that covered her upper back and wrapped around her breasts, but showed  almost all of her prodigious cleavage, her midriff, her lower back and torso. The green cord reappeared, connecting Gwalt to her.
“Come slave, time you found your new home.”
She led him to one of the thin slits in the wall. She then waved her hand , which caused it to slide inward and retract, revealing a small dark cell behind. She led him in and connected the cord to one of the walls. The cell was bare save for a dirty cot, a bucket of water, a hole in one corner and a tray of bread. 
“Serve me well in the future, Gwalt, and maybe it will improve. Disappoint me after one good performance, and you’ll be forced to watch with the others.”
Gwalt’s head spun. Others? What others? The wall with the eyehole slid back into place as Elinerna left, leaving Gwalt alone. It then dawned on him. Every one of the slits in the wall he saw, all of the hundreds of them, were eyeholes to a cell like his own. His girly face blushed in humiliation. How many poor souls shaped by her had watched them? Dozens? Hundreds? Gwalt didn’t want to know. Gwalt. It was as serviceable name, and a part of him that once exalted a deity was thinking of ways to praise the goddess who had named him.

	“Harder Gwalt! Harder damnit!” Elinerna and her slave were standing, her thick leg wrapped around his waist, her hands holding onto the back of his head. Gwalt gripped her thick behind, trying his best to please his mistress as his cock thrust into her folds. This was the third time today she had called on him, and him alone. For the first week or two of his residence in the sorceress’ keep she had used him only as often as her other concubines, but as he watched them she could see her, looking bored at the eyehole to his cell as the other slaves laid with her. More and more she called on him, clearly a favorite among her toys. His cell reflected that; fresh pillows and sheets, decent food, even a book or two. He found he could read elvish just fine, which his mistress seemed to appreciate. The witch shrieked and bit into his shoulder, digging her teeth into him and squeezing him tight with her sex, hands and mouth. He collapsed onto the bed, unable to stand anymore. Panting heavily, the beautiful sorceress untangled herself from him, sensually rubbing her breasts. She turned around and straddled him, lowering her anus onto his cock. She bounced on him, shaking her booty and moaning as she did so. 
“Gwalt! I thought I told you to hold my anus when in this position! Get to it!” he struggled for a moment, which he knew would make his mistress disappointed, before gripping her butt cheeks and squeezing them in time with her contractions on his cock. He was practically pinned under her as her sphincter, even tighter and warmer then her heavenly pussy contracted on him, squeezing him in tightly inside her. He could feel his cock pulsing, the urge to cum strong inside him.
“Don’t you dare finish Gwalt! I command you to keep fucking me!”
She spun around and wrapped her legs around his waist, the rotation of her anus around Gwalt’s cock overpoweringly pleasurable. She grabbed him by the back of the head and started humping into him, and it was not soon before his thrusts matched hers. His penetrations reached deep in her anus, the tip of his member bulging in her colon. Her hands shaking with her own pleasure and the action of fucking, she called a portal, a reptilian cock dangling from it. She placed it above her cunt and the phallus started thrusting into her, the pressure from the saurian prostate noticeable by Gwalt. The witch’s curvy legs squeezed hard on her slave, the lizard like cock still ramming her at full speed. A powerful orgasm rippled through her, the sensations of which causing Gwalt to finish in her anus, the slave uttering a pleasured grunt. 

	In the time since his capture he had seen her absorb many of the slaves she was bored with. Some she had massaged, their bodies melting into putty. The first she had sculpted, lovingly and tenderly, into a dildo, kissing the new phallus and stroking it like a baby puppy. The sex-toy had been thrown in a closet, which Gwalt assumed contained many more. Some of the old slaves she had applied to her bust, her hips, her ass, smearing the malleable ooze on her already perfect body, rubbing them into her until nothing was left. Her breasts grew by imperceptibly tiny amounts, her hips filling out by fractions of an inch. Once, she snapped her fingers, the blonde-haired slave she had bound in front of her vaporizing into a green mist. The emerald miasma swirled around her until it formed a small smoky ball the size of her fist. The sorceress gently picked it up, her fingers brushing the green mass. She brought it to her lips and swallowed the misty soul, gulping it down with gusto. 

	“Very nice Gwalt, but eighteen seconds shorter than this morning. I’m a little disappointed in you; after all the attention I give my favorite pet, he cant even give a consistent performance?”
The hybrid slave wished he had Maxwell’s gift with words, only able to respond after a moment of consideration. It was only a second, but his mistress folded her arms and tapped her foot during them. All the feminine-featured slave could do was go down on all fours and lick the sorceress’ inner thigh, eliciting a pleasantly surprised coo from her.
“Please don’t be mad mistress” me mouthed softly into her lower lips, his hot breath exciting her again.
“I only want you to be happy mistress, I can go longer next time, I swear. I’ll even pleasure your servants to make it up to you.”
Elinerna seemed to consider this, resting her flawless chin on her milky white knuckles. 
“Alright toy, since Roggigor here couldn’t finish” she gestured to the erect lizard-dick hanging in midair, your punishment is to pleasure him and” she snapped her fingers, another portal appearing behind her shoulder “Xthoggath.” A long, black tentacle slid out of it, the tip crowned with a phallic head.
Gwalt swallowed, dreading what the spectral cocks would do with him. Elinerna waved him away to his cell, the cocks following him as they levitated through the air. 
“And tomorrow I expect much better from you slave, remember that!” she called after him as she pulled on a pretzel-top made of finger bones, the skeletal garment pulling her breasts up and together. Gwalt had made a decision, to be the very best he could for her. He had to rely on Iowe’s memories and talents of the male genitals, using his mouth and hands as best as he could. It took over an hour, Xthoggath’s slimy member wiggling away and trying to constrict him, but he finished, ready for whatever his mistress had for him tomorrow.

	Elinerna strode into her bedchamber, visibly frustrated, her gaze downcast and her lips pursed. She stripped down, revealing a golden chain connecting her pierced nipples. A second chain connected her left breast to her clitoris, a tiny gold ring piercing the woman’s button. Attached to her belly-button was another ring, a small gem dangling from it. She quickly made her way to Gwalt’s cell, sliding back the egress and standing in the doorframe, her hands on her hips. 
“I have little patience today slave, and even less for failure. Come here, I need your tongue.”
She gripped the doorframe, spreading her legs wide and glaring at Gwalt. The slave momentarily faltered, afraid of his mistress’ attitude, but gathered himself and crawled on hands and knees to her. Subserviently, he embraced her hips, kissing her pierced navel, rolling his flexible tongue around the piercing. He quickly descended to her loins, placing a line of kisses down the center of her abdomen. 
“Faster slave, it has not been a good day for me and you would hate for me to take it out on you” she punctuated that by tugging at her breasts, the gilded chain rattling as they jiggled. 
Gwalt, fearing for his life, stuck out his tongue and plunged it into her pussy, feeling around the tight, wet walls with it. His mistress humped into him, placing her manicured hand on the back of his head, pressing his face into her crotch. One of Gwalt’s hands left her cushiony behind, idly flicking the ring that ran through her clitoris, causing the entire chain to rattle. Elinerna moaned in a mix of pain and pleasure, her nipples and clit all feeling his attentions on that little gold ring. 
“More, do that more slave.”
He rapidly prodded her button, pressing down on it with his middle and forefingers as hard as he could, the chain growing taught, then releasing it, her bound breasts bouncing as the chain snapped back into place. 
“Ooooh yes Gwalt, that’s good. Don’t stop toy, don’t you dare stop.”

	His tongue was as deep in her cunt as it could go, the bridge of his girlynose pressed against her labia. He tried to nuzzle it, working the folds with his snout. The witch balled up his hair, holding him against her crotch. One of her legs, trembling with sensual pleasure, wrapped around Gwalt’s neck, bringing her loins closer to him and holding him against her. With the dedication one of his past lives had applied to training with his spear he rolled his head around, trying to feel every spot in his mistress’ cunt with his tongue. Her leg, knee just behind his head, made an excellent cushion for when he pulled out, only to extend his now numb tongue and plunge it back into her folds. Her jingling chain, vibrating from the pulses he placed on her clit, caused her breasts to bounce with vigorous speed, the nipples red from the piercing’s irritation. 

	Her loins gushed with fluids, an orgasm rippling through Gwalt’s busty masterm the witch shutting her eyes and screaming, mouth wide with ecstasy. Her curvy leg squeezed him tight, almost to the point of choking him, the witch’s hand holding his hair pulling it so hard his scalp screamed in pain. Panting with ecstatic bliss, she released her slave, bending down to his level. Her fluids covered his mouth and nose, his silky hair in a mess.
“Oooh that was wonderful Gwalt. You make you’re mistress so proud. For that stellar performance you’ve earned some time in my mouth; follow me.”

	Elinerna led him by his collar, two pearly fingers hooking under his binding, to her silky bed. She lay down on her side, massive breasts hanging down to the sheets, before opening her mouth wide and pulling the slave onto the mattress. She took his long organ in her mouth, sucking and slurping on his shaft. Gwalt felt her heavenly lips form a circular seal around his cock. She gently drew him in, then slowly released him, humming into his cock and rubbing it with her tongue. She gently slid her hands around his waist, grabbing his taught cheeks. Suddenly her fingers glowed bright red, a unbearable heat flooding through Gwalt. His libido grew tenfold, the need to fuck increasing until it was intolerable He needed release, his eyes glowing with pent up lust. He began to violently throat-fuck his waiting mistress, grabbing the back of her head and neck and pounding her face as hard as he could. Elinerna gagged, sputtering as she lost her breath, but she pulled him into her each time he thrust. He spread his legs, trying to get more leverage to pound her face, penetrating her throat with his bestial fucking. Her chains jangled in a noisy metallic racket from the speed at which she was being fucked, the piercing embedded in her driving her pleasure higher and higher. Elinerna moaned into his cock, enjoying her slave’s animalistic sex, letting herself be ravaged. The sex was painful for her, but  Elinerna had craved that for so long. Soon her servant began to convulse, an overpowering orgasm shooting into her gullet as he climaxed. She held his ass tightly, forcing him to keep fucking her face, her hazy, shaded eyes gazing up longingly at the enchanted slave. Soon the pleasure from his violent, frenzied, carnal actions, the pain from his forceful thrusts, all worked together to bring the voluptuous witch to cum. She screamed in pleasure into his cock as more seed emptied into her mouth, not letting him pull out until she had swallowed every drop. 

	Panting, exhausted, drained, Gwalt fell to the bed over her legs, too tired to think of the consequences. Smiling, Elinerna stroked his flowing hair, pleased with her servant’s performance. Despite her pained throat, she sensuously purred to her slave, “Enjoy yourself today Gwalt? I can see how ashamed you are of last night.”
It took nearly ten seconds for him to respond, groans of pain and exhaustion the only thing he could muster. 
“It doesn’t matter if I enjoy anything, as long as it pleases you mistress.”
“Good boy Gwalt, good boy.”

	Gwalt struggled to his knees, prepared to crawl back to his cell, but his mistress gripped his ankle as he began to move.
“Not tonight toy. Tonight you sleep with me.”
“Th-Thank you master, I don’t know what to say.”
She guided his head so it rested between his mountainous cleavage, the slave wrapping his hand around her slender waist.
“Mmmm, you’ve been very good to me, and I am a kind mistress. I reward my servants, and you have earned a big one.”
The panting, exhausted pair soon fell asleep. Gone was Gwalt’s fear of his mistress, replaced only with that powerful dedication, now mixed with zeal. 
	
	He was truly her favorite. Less and less he slept in the cell, his mistress choosing to keep him beside her or at the foot of her bed. Even when she laid with other slaves she allowed him to join in, double-penetrating Elinerna alongside the other hybrid cock-slaves. She allowed him more freedom in sex, though he could never truly top her; she was always in charge. 
“I’m so sorry pet, but your mistress has to leave; some plucky little vagabonds have snuck into my dungeon, and I am going to punish them personally. Zeerk will take you to the bimbos, you can entertain yourself with any one you like, but I expect you to be ready when I return.”
Elinerna handed his leash to the hooded goblin, who nodded with a “Yeth mithtreth, I will watch him mithtreth. ”
Gwalt was downcast; he hardly enjoyed himself with the blank-minded whores, none of them were as lovely as his mistress, none of them commanded him like her. Still, he would do whatever she asked, so as Zeerk took him to their pens he settled with a busty girl with long red hair and light freckles, enjoying her hungry ministrations while he awaited his mistress’ return.

	They had managed to enter the bottom layer of the evil fortress undetected, the spell working perfectly. Yolanda tied back her snow-white hair and adjusted the straps on her chain mail. It was her husband’s but ever since his disappearance she had worn it on her journey. Beside her was Gordon, a close friend, some would say lover, the mage her husband adventured with. Crane, a monk from the same monastery as Nigel, ventured up ahead, looking for traps. All three of them had come looking for their disappeared companions, believing them captured by the Sprit-Eater when they failed to defeat her. She had met Anderson in the town guard, and soon after they were bribing their sergeant to put their patrol schedules together. They had been wed nearly three years ago, and though Yolanda wasn’t the prettiest woman; her bust below average size and her ass just as small, she was physically fit, muscular even, and the two had been happy together ever since. 

	Crane gave the o.k. signal, and the trio advanced, Yolonda readying her short sword and shield, Gordon his staff. The witch would pay for whatever she had done, both to their home and to her husband.

	Suddenly, there was the click of heels on the hard stone behind them. Crane had checked every stone for secret passages, how had someone got behind them? Yolanda turned to face whoever was approaching them and froze. There, in the flickering torchlight, stood the witch. She was shockingly beautiful, her voluptuous frame hidden only by a black sarong and a metallic bra that barely covered anything at all. She walked on high-heeled black boots and wore a stylized crown of gold, her long black hair falling perfectly behind her shoulders.
“What do we have here? More crawling rats, scampering into my lair?”
“You’ll eat those words tramp!” screamed Yolanda as she sprinted at the Spirit-Eater, prepared to run her through on her blade.

	Elinerna only cackled as she raised her hands and recited her favorite spell.

	Gwalt had long since been returned to his cell, spent from hours with the busty, brainless woman. He heard the massive lewd gate to Elinerna’s chambers creak open, his mistress’ heels clicking as she slowly strode in the room. A shuffling could be heard as well, like someone dragging their feet.
“And this is my bedchamber, toy. This is all your pitiful life is about from now on; what goes on in my bedchamber.”
Gwalt’s ears perked up. Who was she talking to? He saw soon enough; Elinerna walking into view trailing a red glowing cord connected to a similar collar to his. Bound to it was a naked man; his shoulders broad and muscular, his abs and pecks chiseled and strong. He had the form of a body-builder, every part of him rippling with strength. But his face. His face caused Gwalt’s heart to falter. It was familiar; a square chin and masculine jaw line, but otherwise feminine, with full kissable lips. Had Gwalt kissed those before? They seemed so familiar, just like her amber colored eyes, which he was sure he had stared into for years. Her hair, white as snow, was up in a ponytail, which caused Gwalt to shiver. She was in there, Anderson’s wife Yolanda, wasn’t she? Had she befallen the same fate as her husband, merged and melded with others into a form pleasurable for Elinerna?

	She gingerly placed a finger on the muscular slave’s chin, pressing up and signaling for him to stand. Gwalt’s mistress hadn’t allowed him to stand on his first day, had she? The ripped hybrid stood a head taller than the witch, it’s girly amber eyes locked with hers. The white-haired man didn’t look afraid, in fact he looked confident, powerful, in-charge. He gripped the hand on his chin with his own, stroking and rubbing Elinerna’s alabaster skin tenderly. She smiled and closed her eyes, leaning her head back as the ripped giant caressed her arm and moved up to her shoulder. He took up position behind her and rubbed her shoulders, his powerful hands kneading and massaging her tender skin. His mistress reclined against him, leaning her head on his muscular torso, her hands reaching around his back to hold his head. Her spacious ass was pressed against his crotch, the fabric of the sarong doing little to keep his cock from her flesh. 

	Gwalt felt flushed with envy. She had never let him hold her like that, never let him take control of their unions. And on her first day with the new slave no less! He peered through his tiny eyes slit, craning his neck for a better view. The slave’s massage had gone from Elinerna’s shoulders to the small of her back, and the giant slave was busily untying her sarong as she let her bosom free of its metal restraint. The giant pulled her close, groping her huge breasts with one hand and fingering her with the other, an enraptured look on her face. His massive cock sprung to life, its prodigious girth rising between Elinerna’s ass cheeks. She groaned and wiggled her butt, squeezing her new slave’s dong with the soft cheeks of her rear. With her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the girly-faced giant pulled down on her tits, placing the hand that was previously in her loins on the small of her back, pressing down gently. 

	She was so free with him! Why would she allow him to take control on his first time with her? Gwalt’s jealousy was intense, to the point were he was red in the face with envy for the giant that had once been Anderson’s wife. Was the part of him he inherited from that man envious of his spouse? That her new form got to have free reign with their master while he was forced to submit to her?

	Elinerna bent over, resting her hands on a phallic statue. The giant towered over her, resting his hands on her supple rear. The sorceress nibbled on her lower lip as her slave teased her entrance with his cock, closing her eyes in rapturous bliss. He caressed her folds with the tip of his cock for what felt like an eternity, both for the sorceress and for Gwalt. As jealous as he was, he too was as hard as could be. He tried as hard as he could to resist pleasuring himself, what little dignity he had demanding he be strong for his mistress.

	Elinerna yelped as the white-haired hybrid surged into her burying his length in her cunt. Without warning he started fucking her, hard and fast, impaling the beautiful witch on his cock. She cried out in bliss, her knuckles even whiter from how hard she was squeezing the statue. Using her like a cock-sleeve, the slave grabbed her torso and began forcefully pulling her back onto his cock, in time with his own thrusts. She clenched her teeth in what looked like pain, but moaned through them in ecstatic bliss. The slave’s hips slammed forwards, causing her wide ass to jiggle and ripple with the impact. Elinerna’s tits were flapping wildly with the violent fuck, the huge man grabbed her by the legs and lifted her into the air. Her eyes rolling back into her head, the sorceress was held by her thighs above the man’s groin, trying desperately to hump into him to accommodate more of his cock. The white-haired slave obliged, rapidly shoving her up and down his length, the witch moaning lewdly with each thrust. Soon after, the giant exploded inside her, droplets of cum escaping her tight pussy.

	Gwalt was resentful, feeling almost possessive of Elinerna. He knew it was the other way around, but his hatred for the white-haired slave blinded him to it. Why was he allowed to finish in her, what had he done to dedicate himself to her? Why did this freshman servant get to be on top in sex, when he had done all he could to pleasure his mistress? It wasn’t fair! Gwalt fell to his bed, almost in tears with shame and envy. His member still iron-hard, he cried himself to sleep as his mistress got ready for round two with her new toy.

	For long weeks, she still laid with Gwalt. He did his best to pleasure her, but his envy for the white haired slave, who was called Cyradgar, distracted him. He would fuck too fast, thinking of how the muscular hybrid had fucked his mistress. Elinerna berated him for his poor performance, and that only worsened his mood. She started to sleep with Gwalt less, confining him to his cell. She called on Cyradgar more, letting him pound her with animalistic fury and strength. Gwalt was mortified; from his cell he could see that she came louder and harder than she ever had with him. She still let Gwalt fuck her from time to time, once or twice beside the burly giant. In those frantic, energetic unions he was always on the bottom providing little more than an extra cock while Cyradgar railed her.
	
	 He thought he saw recognition in those amber eyes, it’s face contorting into a solemn expression before his attention snapped back to the sorceress as she suckled on his scrotum. As she laid with Cyradgar more and Gwalt less and less she let the new slave do more with her that despite Gwalt’s seniority he never had the chance to do. She kissed her new toy fully on the lips, a deep passionate kiss that made full use of both of their tongues; something she had never permitted Gwalt to do. Deep in his melancholy, he knew he could no longer be her favorite, unable to compete with the brawny man. In one of his sullen moods Elinerna came to him, gently opening his cell door and walking in. She was clad in nothing but golden pasties and a tiny golden loincloth, serpentine arm and leg bands decorating her limbs. 

	“Oh Gwalt, don’t look so sad” she said as she laid a delicate hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done your very best, I can see that.”
“Really mistress, you really do?” His eyes lit up and his face perked up, looking hopefully into Elinerna’s smiling, almost motherly face.
“Yes, you were the best cock-slave you could be, I know this. But Cyradgar is better than you in every way, and after him I don’t think I’ll go back to you any time soon. Oh to fall into those muscular arms, to let him ravish me…”
Gwalt’s heart sank and his eyes were puffy with tears. That teasing bitch! How could she does this to him after all he had done to dedicate himself to her!
“But don’t worry toy, Im sure I have another use for you. You will still give me pleasure, as long as I live.”
She started rubbing his shoulders, Gwalt feeling unnaturally blissful in her arms. He felt his bones turn to jelly and his skin loose its consistency as he became like a giant ball of clay in her hands. She rolled his head between her fingers, stretching it out and rounding off the top. She made it taper to a point, then, thinking better, added a wicked curve to the tip. His facial features vanished, her hands rubbing them away until his head and neck were just a pale smoothness. She rubbed what were once his arms into his torso until they vanished, leaving just his trunk and legs. She compressed his now armless body until it was about a foot tall, rolling his torso until it became a ribbed, bumpy rod. His legs were flattened out to make a wide base for his new form, a stable disc the rest of him would rest on. Elinerna kissed the curved tip of the phallus and admired her handiwork. A fine dildo, with a canine tip and a ribbed shaft covered with little nubs. It was the color of Gwalt’s skin, and if one squinted they could see what looked like a smeared mouth and nose in the surface of the head.

	Gwalt‘s-was he still Gwalt?- mind struggled to grasp the details of his new form. Somehow he could see as if the head were his eyes, and he could hear just fine. He could feel everything that touched his phallic body, his entire form unbelievably sensitive. He had no sense of smell to speak of. He tried to speak, but nothing happened. He tried to move, but there was it was impossible. 

	The sorceress bent down and picked up Gwalt, turning him over in her hands. “See toy? Now you can still serve me and pleasure me, just like you always wanted.”
Gwalt tried to respond, to cry out in horror, but his new form lacked any ability to do so.
The sorceress kissed the tip of his head, taking a tiny bit of him into her mouth. She pumped him in and out of her orifice, getting him slick with saliva. He could see inside of her, the inner linings of her mouth and throat. When she pulled the remains of his length out she smiled.
“Now you will pleasure me non-stop; you don’t need for food, water or rest. Now get to work!”
She spread her legs wide and shoved the canine head into her cunt. She worked it deep in, the ribs and bumps causing her to shiver and tremble. Once he was completely embedded in her, every inch of his being wrapped by her tight, warm, wet cunt, she snapped her fingers and a portal appeared. Dangling from it was a slender human penis, which she guided into her ass. She then pulled on a tight g-string thong to bind both Gwalt and the portal-dick inside her.

	The Gwalt-dildo spent what felt like days in there, though there was no day-night cycle for him to base his reference on. When she moved her interior would rub up against him, causing his bumps and ribs to rub all her sensitive spots. Her tight vaginal walls kept him snug inside her, ripples of the orgasms he and the spectral cock gave her causing her to buckle. After an eternity within his mistress the thong was removed, and he was pulled free. Gwalt’s body was slick with juices, but through them he could see his surroundings. He had returned to his mistress’ bedchamber, held lightly by the sorceress as she lay on one of the luxurious cushions laid about the room. She snapped her fingers and the cock buried in her anus vanished. 
“Come here slave, I have a toy for you” she purred. Cyradgar trod over to the prone sorceress, his white hair let down to his broad shoulders. If Gwalt had a throat he would have swallowed in dread. He took the dildo from her and she leaned back on the cushion, holding her crotch high in the air and spreading her legs. She squeezed her tits together as the burly slave bent down with Gwalt in his hands. Gwalt would have groaned, accepting the burden of letting Cyradgar manhandle him as long as he could still give Elinerna pleasure. 

	He pressed the head of the dildo against the tight sphincter between Elinerna’s cheeks, prodding the brown starfish with Gwalt’s canine head. Tenderly, almost lovingly, he pushed Gwalt inside her anus, twisting him as he did so. Elinerna writhed, arching her back as he inserted the former slave into her butt. It was dark in there, and warm, and the walls of her colon squeezed him so tightly he feared he would hurt her if Cyradgar pushed any further. About halfway in, the slave started to pull him out, turning him in the opposite direction. He repeated this several times, screwing the mistress’ butt with calm precision.

	With one final, surprisingly forceful push he embedded the entirety of the shaft inside Elinerna, twisting him sharply counter-clockwise as he did so. The witch yelped in surprise, pain and excitement as Gwalt was enveloped in her rear.
“Mmmm, he feels so good” she said, rolling her hips and squeezing his bumpy shaft.
“Now get over here and fuck me slave!”
Cyradgar complied wordlessly, taking his position between her legs and picking up his cock. He inserted it and started pounding her, penetrating her with slow, deep, powerful thrusts. She bucked her hips in response, squeezing her breasts tighter as she moaned in pleasure. Her toes curled and she gritted her teeth, as she came hard on both of the dicks embedded in her. 

	Cyradgar pulled Gwalt from her ass, handing the transformed slave back to Elinerna. She licked it clean of her own fluids before tossing to aside and embracing Cyradgar, letting him carry her off to the bed at the center of the room.

	He was used in a similar manner for a long time, maybe years, maybe longer, it was hard to tell. Cyradgar had gone, transformed for whatever reason into a tongue piercing that currently adorned the mistress. Gwalt had been used for so long the bumps and ridges that made him so pleasurable were rubbing away, his phallic form becoming smooth. Elinerna was pumping herself on him, servicing a pair of troll penises that hung from airborne portals. When they came with their greenish-grey spooge the sorceress moved him to her anus, bouncing on him for another minute before she clamped down on him. 

	Withdrawing him, she brushed him off and kissed his head. Gwalt lived-did he really live?-only for her pleasure, and it made him happy to see he could still fulfill his purpose. 
“Oh my dear Gwalt. It seems whatever I make you into you fulfill that role with gusto. But I’m afraid its all at an end my toy.”
Gwalt panicked, if he had a heart it would be racing, if he could breathe he would be hyperventilating. It was over? After all this time of dedicating himself to her, no more? Had he failed in some way, his actions unable to please his mistress? 

	“Your life serving me is at an end toy. You did well, better than most; nearly all of the hybrids I create need to be punished after their first time, but you choose rightly to serve me from the start. As your reward you will live forever, inside of me.”
She started to stroke him, cradling him in her arms like a baby. What could she mean inside her? He felt lighter, his weight gradually disappearing. His body, the well-used phallus, was discorporating, becoming a dick-shaped cloud of green smoke. Elinerna’s hands brushed him, molded him, rolling the green cloud into a small ball, barely a handbreadth across. Elinerna stood up, letting the green orb float in the air. She was nude, in all her beautiful, curvy glory. 
“You will make your mistress even more beautiful, even more powerful. And that is the ultimate thing you can do to please me my slave, the greatest task I can demand of you. Elinerna spread her legs wide and threw her head back, pushing out her busty chest. Her mouth hung open, her face frozen miming sucking a cock. Without another word the ball of souls that belonged to Iowe, Anderson, Nigel, Maxwell and, for a time, the gestalt hybrid Gwalt flew into the Spirit-Eater’s gullet, the leaving a trail of emerald smoke. Her ass tingled, its captivating curves growing and smoothening by impossible to notice amounts. Elinerna smiled, giving her improved ass a hard smack.

	Gwalt felt the spank ripple through him. He was her. He was her ass. Her ass was him. It all made no sense, yet it seemed so unquestionably simple to him. He could still ‘see’ though it was as if his eyes were at the center of either cheek. He gave thanks that his mistress wore revealing clothes, and wondered if this was why; to offer a view of the world to all the people trapped inside her. He would have smiled, had he a mouth. He could still serve his mistress like this! He could be the eyes on the back of her head, constantly watching her back and keeping her safe! Like when he was a dildo, he could smell nothing, but sounds and tactile sensations were still present. The spanking hurt, the sensation magnified tenfold. He tried to scream out in pain, but to Gwalt it was like yelling with a mouthful of cotton. 

	“You mustn’t be scared” rang Elinerna’s voice in his mind, reassuring him that he would always be near her. “Every pleasure I feel I will share with you, every victory and triumph of mine will be yours as well.” Elinerna smiled and gave him-her ass-both a playful pinch. It was like being bitten by a snake how powerful the sensation was, his pain causing goose bumps to appear on her butt. 
“Oh dear Gwalt, you’ll need to get used to that if you want to be MY butt. I think I know just the way for you to learn your place.”

	The dark sorceress put on a long black loincloth, the fabric in front matched by an identical strip that covered her backside, robbing Gwalt of his sight. Though she could have opened a portal anywhere in the fortress, she walked, barefoot and topless through its dark, cavernous halls. She teased him by keeping the destination secret, not letting him see where it was his punishment would be. Eventually he could hear her walking on straw instead of stone. 

“Masterr, why arre you herre?” growled a deep, throaty voice. “Didn’t think I was needed.”
“Raarom, it has been too long. Remind me again why I chained you all the way down here?”
“Harrd to rrememberr Masterr, need to think harrd. It was, it was, because I ate someone I wasn’t supposed too, rright?”
“You ate my favorite blackguard when he stepped on your paw, Raarom. Constance, remember him? The man with the eye patch, carried a pike? I sentenced you to sixty years in this cell to make up for his loss. What would you do to atone for it, hmm?”
“Me? Anything Masterr, anything you want.”
“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” She turned around so she faced away from the voice and pulled the fabric from her ass, showing it off to the creature.

	Gwalt saw a great creature, nearly nine feet in length. It’s body was that of a lion, with dirty yellow fur and brown paws. It’s tail ended in a ball of spikes, a deadly weapon which it idly flicked to and fro. It had a dirty brown mane, and beneath it was a human face, somewhat ugly with a long nose and oversized jaw, which was lined with needle-like teeth. From its muscular shoulders jutted two huge, batlike wings, and though they were folded each one was the size of Gwalt’s former body. A thick black chain connected the manticore to a wall of the barred cell, the floor covered in dirty hay. Elinerna bent over a bale of hay that lie in the corner and gripped an ass cheek, looking over her shoulder at Raarom. She pulled on the tender flesh, exposing her sphincter to the restrained creature. 
“You know what to do big boy” she purred, biting her lip and wiggling her eyebrows.

	The leonine creature sprang from its crouching position, landing with it’s heavy paws several feet in front of Elinerna, its hind paws just behind her legs. Gwalt, looking from behind her, could clearly see the manticore’s penis enlarging from it’s sheath; a long, thick pink rod nearly a foot long. Tiny nubs or spines coated it, and it had a pointed, almost arrow-like tip. Raarom vainly humped forward, his burgeoning cock rubbing against the small of Elinerna’s back. Gwalt could feel the sensations of Raarom’s spiny penis against her tailbone and the top of her cheeks amplified to nearly uncomfortable levels. Eventually the feline cock found its mark, stabbing into her sphincter. Elinerna looked back and watched as he slid his spiny length into her, his powerful muscles pushing her against the rough hay. Gwalt could feel the gargantuan member stretching-his, her? Both‘s?- asshole, the experience feeling like he was being torn apart. The sorceress shuddered, her crotch heating up and creating a steamy warmth inside her. She spasmed slightly after a few shallow strokes from Raarom, the barbs on his cock making his retractions painful, but also causing her leg to quiver in pleasure. She howled from the pain, and if Gwalt could he would have shrieked. To Gwalt, the barbs were like spears, each one a dagger inside him, tearing him from the inside out. But to him, every bit of pleasure was ten times what Elinerna felt, and had he a cock he would have came twice by now. 

	As the lion picked up his pace Elinerna could only grit her teeth harder as his dick stretched her, pounded her, filled her. The feline dick twitched, the barbs embedding themselves inside her, holding him deep inside her ass. He slowly pulled back against them, each one dragging along her inner walls. His every thrust was hammer-like, and gave an equally loud thump as he pounded her sphincter, his heavy feline balls slapping against her dripping pussy. Gwalt couldn’t think, the experience was mind blowing, overriding any other sense he had save for touch. He was overwhelmed with sex, feeling such intense pleasure like he never had. Elinerna was screaming with every thrust, trying to push back against him and get more of that spiny cock inside her tight ass, inside Gwalt. His thrusts became twice as hard, knocking over the hay bale and sending Elinerna sprawling onto the ground. Her lower body was suspended in the air, held onto Raarom’s cock by the barbs lining it, while her upper body lay flat against the ground, tits pressed into the rough hay.

	The ring that was Cyradgar, embedded in the center of the sorceress’ tongue, could see and feel the hay as she let her tongue loll out on the dirty floor, her eyes rolling back into her head from a continuous orgasm. Raarom’s hips didn’t stop, fucking her into the floor as he roared in sexual pride. He actually fucked her even harder, causing her suspended legs to writhe in blissful ecstasy and pained agony. Gwalt was in just as much a lustful frenzy, loving the pain and pleasure his mistress was allowing him. This was his place; at the end of a dick, inside his mistress’ cushion. He had to get used to it, and found he was enjoying the feeling of penetration just as much as the woman he shared the body with, maybe even more. Raarom flapped his membranous wings, using the force from their movement to add more force to his already mighty thrusts. The barbs were embedded deep inside Elinerna, keeping her attached to Raarom’s dick, and sending splitting, nearly blinding pain through her lower body. The sorceress welcomed it, the agony only contributing to her frenzy. 

	Raarom’s thrusts became sloppy, his giant tool swelling inside the witch, stretching her even further. He roared, loud enough to deafen, as he reached his climax, his cock hosing down Elinerna’s insides with feline spunk. His orgasm was like drowning to Gwalt, the amount of cum making him feel like he was going to explode. But the manticore’s hips never stopped, spraying his seed into Elinerna again and again as he pounded her sentient sphincter, never slowing, even for a moment.

	After hours of constant fucking Raarom finally disengaged, slinking back to his corner. It took another half an hour before the nearly unconscious witch could stand, her breathing so heavy one would be concerned for her health. After the monster had withdrawn, her ass had returned to its original tightness, both gladdening and terrifying Gwalt. It would be like this every time she took it in the ass, he knew it. He would be her partner in sexual pleasure, for ever and ever. Droplets of semen fell from her ass, forming a little puddle where she sat. Gwalt could get used to it, to be honest. His mistress felt only a fraction of what he felt, and he now understood why she fucked so constantly. It felt good, so good. His life as part of his mistress was just beginning, and already Gwalt wanted more.