Collared Coven

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Sorceress writes how she was captured by the Empire.
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Dajaska
Dajaska
172 Followers

Author's note: My first human-human (no physical transformation or non-human elements) story on literotica.

May contain mind control, female submission, reluctance, and breeding/impregnation.

*****

To First Sorceress Rivantis of the High Council,

I write to inform you of what you face.

You knew me once as Sabrine Shadowalker. I was one of the first these invaders took.

The true first? That was Tabitha Greenseer. I received word that she hadn't been heard from in awhile. I knew she was a young witch, naive and clumsy. I doubted she had come to much harm, but a little investigation would amuse me.

See, I positioned myself in the Grand Coven as a sort of 'Spymaster' for the Eastern Dominion, I have no idea if you were aware, as while I flaunted my 'title' wildly in the east, it was never an official office. I operated as a gossiping rumormonger to impress the other Sisters, and my information gathering was more of a brash bully than clandestine agent.

Put simply, I knew finding the missing witch would allow me brag endlessly.

I was proud, arrogant, and stupid. I never bothered to even mention to others where I was headed.

Why would I?

I thought I was invincible.

Though not close as powerful a sorceress as you, few could stand in my way.

Like Tabitha, I too must have simply vanished. Searching her hut overlooking the sea, I never saw the Empire's agent sneak behind me.

I don't have words to describe what it felt like when I was collared. I remember the soft whirling sound that ended in a loud snap. It was like a terrible numbness swept my soul.

I felt so confused and shocked as the men grabbed my arms and began to drag me away. I pushed to destroy them, but I nearly vomited when I felt only emptiness. My powers, my ability to channel was some how sealed-- locked away. I clawed at the infernal collar, but it seemed to be solid all the way around.

The soldiers brought me out into the sea on small boats, where emerged a great metal ship from the depths. They pulled me down inside.

I fought, biting clawing, screaming. Part of me felt this was some nightmare I couldn't awake from. I pushed and pushed -- reaching for my power, but I only received more emptiness, nausea, and pain.

Their underwater ship was a terrifying wonder, almost a castle onto itself. Like men in our side of the world, they can barely channel but have worked this little flow into a type of blacksmithing. Over time crafting more and more advanced devices.

Like the collars.

There were a dozen collared woman on the ship. They were channelers, ageless sorcerers like us. But they were not strong and proud women like us. No, their servile position in this society was immediately apparent.

They were slaves called 'units.'

Even their dress was completely humiliating. They were wrapped in a series of black straps that exposed as much as they hid. Somehow it left them looking more provocative and degraded than if they had been left naked.

I tried to question them, to get answers. Who was this empire? Where did they come from? What did they want? But it was useless.

"I'm happy to be a slave for the Empire."

"I'm eager to submit to my Master."

"I want my Master to fuck me."

"I need my Master to breed me."

Slave, submit, fuck, breed. The core of their responses was always this bizarre manta, a prayer of sorts that they repeated to me endlessly.

They acted like they weren't brushing me off. They said it like it was an honest answer to my questions.

I found their words as repulsive as any good Sister would.

Thankfully at night I was moved away from these 'units' to my own room.

A bizarre prison this was. A pink carpeted cell with a large comfortable bed and pristine white sheets. Like a doll house room with bars.

Put me across from another cell, which held a kneeling unit. The unit there stared at me in a blank daze.

"Tabitha?" I realized, it was the missing witch. "Are you alright? What have they done to you?"

"I'm happy to be a slave for the Empire," she said, then paused.

"I'm eager to submit to my Master. "

"I want my Master to fuck me."

"I need my Master to breed me," she finished and then stared at me blankly.

Just great, I thought, and shook my head. I didn't bother to question her further. I had heard this before.

We were not alone long. A man, called the 'High Engineer' came to visit Tabitha.

"Stop," I yelled as he pushed away her straps to rape the poor girl, but I saw quickly how consensual it was. She wasn't acting like a victim. No. Tabitha degraded herself physically and verbally for her captor.

I felt horrified by her behavior, enraged at a Sister being treated this way, and intensely frustrated how powerless I was to stop it.

The next day this repeated. A morning left with other units then later brought to my cell to watch this sick performance.

My feelings twisted into... I still resisted, but I started to become overwhelmed with jealousy. There was no doubt in my mind she loved being used by her 'master.' I saw the pleasure on Tabitha's face, heard it in her moans. It didn't feel fair.

Why only her?

I wanted that pleasure too, hungered for it.

Soon I was touching myself as they fucked. I hid under the sheets of my cell bed, my cheeks blushing with shame as my fingers matched his thrusts.

The sound drove my passion wild, yet I seemed powerless here too, even sexually. The torrents of pleasure only ripped through my body when Tabitha cried out in ecstasy as she receive his seed. No doubt this was another effect of the collar.

Even the simple sexual relief of orgasm was a prisoner to their coupling.

I felted drained.

I was helpless without my power, already tired of resisting. The constant whispers from the other units didn't help. In the presence of one, I felt like a rough stone in a stream, her words washing over me like water, slowly shaving away my rough edges. In a gathering it felt like the words were drilled into my skull. More than once I found myself whispering along with them (Slave, Submit, Fuck, Breed), and then my face would go red with shame. But I couldn't help it, the words were becoming part of me.

This repeated for a few days and I know logically it was a gradual process. But it didn't feel that way. Maybe I was delusional, because I was still a stoic resister in my mind, not giving an inch, I pretended I didn't feel the changes, like how the mantra would echo in my head.

But quickly I could no longer hide it.

One night, after the High Engineer finished taking Tabitha, he walked over and patted me gently on the head.

"Good girl," he said and it felt like my world crashed around me.

Here I was, again masturbating in tandem with the fornicating couple. Without thinking I had done it in their full view, sitting up straight on the edge of the bed, my legs were spread wide with no discretion. I showed him my naked lower half and worked my lower slit like a wanton harlot. All in their full view. Even more I moaned the devious mantra.

What had I done? Half naked, masturbating in front of them like a degenerate whore. I covered up immediately, horrified and humiliated by my own behavior.

But I couldn't look past a single aspect, how good it felt to be praised. I instinctively felt happy that that I had pleased him.

The next night I tried to be more discrete but the feelings were even stronger. My lustful side won. I purposely pulled back sheets and stopped hiding. I wanted him to see how dirty and slutty I was acting.

But he ignored me, and somehow that made the desire worse.

I ground my naked and sweaty skin against the cage, rubbing my over sexed and horny body against the cold bars. The slowly growing arousal was pushing me to my limits. I moaned in near unison with Tabitha, "Slave. Submit. Fuck. Breed."

I knew this was madness but I didn't care.

As overt as my display was, it wasn't enough to garner the attention I truly desired.

I knew he wanted one like Tabitha. So maybe... I needed to mimic a unit like her?

Maybe I could act like them, look like them and then fool him. I could trick him into satiating my burning passion.

Nearly sobbing I began to beg the other units to assist me, but they didn't require convincing. They snapped into action.

The worked around my body with practiced skill. Groomed me, shaved me, even between my legs. Finally they worked me into the puzzle of tight straps that served as their distinctive uniform.

In a flash they had molded me into the look of a slave unit.

The feeling of my new garments enhanced my already burning desire. I felt constricted yet vulnerable. I was imprisoned, bound, and leashed... yet felt too like I was exhibited for display.

I simulated Tabitha as best as I could. Eager to entice by pushing out my breasts, nipples half covered by the crisscross of tight straps. I proudly showed off my bound body, but bowed my head entirely submissive.

We were mirrored in our opposing cells.

"What do you want?" the High Engineer asked.

I was about to answer how much I wanted, needed him between my legs. But no, I knew the correct answer, the only answer that mattered to these people.

"I'm happy to be a slave for the Empire."

"I'm eager to submit to my Master."

"I want my Master to fuck me."

"I need my Master to breed me."

I was acting of course, only pretending, but it worked! This time he opened my cell and not Tabitha's.

He pressed finger into mouth, as if to test me. I gently suckled, eager to pass.

He tossed me on the bed and I flopped like a virgin on her wedding night.

He gently pushed aside a strap barely covering my pussy and started to use me.

And I do mean use. This wasn't sex like I had known. This wasn't lovemaking. He was using me, taking me, conquering me.

Forcing me to say thing I previously could not have even thought up.

He made me beg, degrade myself. I did.

I called him master, and vowed to be a good slave. Told him I'd give up my life as a sorceress.

I told him I was a just a dumb arrogant bitch for ever trying to oppose them. That being a unit was the proper role for a channeler like me.

Told him that I would live the rest of my life as a unit

I said anything he wanted.

The rise of pleasure was intense but I knew the collar 'locked' my orgasm. I needed him to finish first. I needed him to cum inside me, I needed to feel his hot seed inside my fertile and unprotected pussy.

So I begged him.

I begged him to breed me and claim my womb for the Empire.

I thanked him as I felt him cum. I praised my master for letting me have his seed.

He opened the cell, and said I was free to move about the ship.

Without thought I walked to be with the other units. They welcomed me.

I realized I could have gone elsewhere. Anywhere else.

Without a guard I might escape. Find help. Warn the Sisterhood!

But no. There was no motive in me to do that anymore.

I didn't want to escape, to fight. I wanted to obey. I felt at home. I wanted to live with the other units.

Unit. I dressed like them, acted like them, I was even sexually used like them.

I wasn't copying or pretending to be one. This was no longer an act. I was one.

I wanted to be a slave and do anything the Empire commanded. I wanted to submit to my master again and again. My mind was consumed with a desire for sex. But strongest of all was a throbbing desire in my womb, a need to be bred.

I was no longer Sabrine Shadowalker. I was just a unit loyal to the Empire.

I was reborn.

This transformation, it felt like ten lifetimes. But what had it really been? Maybe a week? I resisted, I fought so damn hard inside, but for what? One week and I was completely enslaved.

Rivantis, think about it, one damn week!

An enemy who would have rained fire upon them, killed them all, willing to die rather than surrender was crushed into to willing unit, begging to be fucked and bred. Every piece of my channeling ability was now theirs to use.

This is their power. No one can resist this.

*****

And that was just the start of my story. I was no normal unit, I could do more. I handed them the location of nearly every Sister in the Eastern Dominion.

As the recon group moved out to capture a group of targets I would be inserted in with them. I pretended to be one newly captured, just another prisoner.

I told these newly collared Sisters that I had a secret plan, full proof plan of escape they latched on. And they did trust me, especially in the East.

They knew me as Sabrine Shadowalker, the 'spymaster' after all.

If they were skeptical, the High Engineer would loan me a simple Engineer's toy with lights and beeps that the 'plan' revolved around. Imprisoned and un-powered, I was their one hope.

But the key, I always stressed, was how we needed to buy time. We had to placate the guards and play along, just for now.

Often we'd sit as a coven, collared and imprisoned in a cell, sitting in a circle holding hands. I'd insist we had to pretend.

"I'm happy to be a slave for the Empire."

"I'm eager to submit to my Master."

"I want my Master to fuck me."

"I need my Master to breed me."

I get them to say it again and again into 'fool the guards' They chanted the mantra with a wink and a sly smile. But unbeknownst to them the collar was imprinting it deep within their minds.

I held their hands, abusing their trust to coach them. Desperate to escape and naive of my betrayal they diligently worked to enslave themselves. I told them to be ready for an escape that would never come. Soon my initiation was longer required, repeating it to each other without my direction. Reinforcing the changes in each other.

And I broke the taboos for them. You can see it can't you? The way I addressed master with respect. How loving I was to his touch. Me tentatively licking my master's boot as they looked on with confusion. Displaying increasing acts of submission and deprivation.

Or finally how I offered my pussy to him, submitting to him like it was my first time.

I screamed how good submission felt as I was fucked, and I begged to be bred.

Seeing one so mighty and respected as me 'fall' crushed their hopes of resisting. Many Sisters, especially those who were virgins, it made the idea less embarrassing and more palatable. Made it easy for them to give in, surrender to their role. And they all did in time.

Each learned how good Submission felt.

Yes, indeed. Countless guild sorceresses played along with confusion and lust until it was no longer an act. I helped turn practically half our guild into brain washed and eager sex slaves of the Engineers.

It's funny, childish pretending to be a 'spymaster' for years here I truly operated a real plan of deceit. Successfully fooling these proud and powerful woman into brainwashing themselves into submissive and loyal units.

Never felt more pride than when I helped ceremonially bind them in their straps. I knew I had helped break them. I knew I wrapped them like presents as fertile cumsluts for their masters.

I helped to turn the Empire's greatest threats into willing human cattle, obedient breeding sluts for their masters! It fills me with pride just thinking about it.

*****

My final target? My last mission? You Rivantus.

I'm breaking you, just like I did to your laughable 'Grand' Coven.

You can't get the words out of your head. They resonate inside of you, don't they? Whenever you lose focus you find yourself whispering it.

It should infuriate you, or terrify you, learning about the fate of your coven. But that's not what you feel. If you don't hold back your hand it seems to move instinctively between your legs? That calling from your womanhood? Iis jealousy.

Let me explain why.

You're so arrogant and stupid, just like I was. You think you're safe, hiding behind the Citadel's walls and wards. But the Engineers genius have already blessed your water supply with minuscule devices. You don't yet wear a collar around your neck, but it already swims inside your very veins.

And you cannot resist. You above all can't fight this.

Do you remember Princes Marie? The one who never could have entered the coven except for her Queen mother's political request. Girl could channel less than a man! She was the only failure... of sorts. She required... 'special' treatment. She couldn't be broken into a unit with a normal collar. Why? She was too weak of a channeler.

Where as Annabelle the White, the greatest practitioner of healing spells in a thousand years didn't last an afternoon. You should have seen how happily she pulled up the hem of that white dress like a happy bride to offer up her virgin purity.

Or how quickly your personal friend, the Great Summoner Aya, fell to her hands and knees, presenting her ass to be bred like livestock in heat.

Engineers aren't able to channel more than men in the Dominion. As sophisticated as the their devices are they still need a true source of power.

Us. We are their power source.

Engineer's devices tap into us, use us as a battery. For the devices affecting you, our own individual channeling ability powers our change. The stronger a Sister's channeling ability is, the easier they fall.

Therefore, you Rivantus, as the Covens strongest sister will be the Empire's easiest convert.

That incomparable power is now working against you, remaking you. Its helping forget goals you've worked your life for, washing away your dreams, and twisting your motives to ones of a new foreign loyalty. Inducing you into absolute subservience, and stimulating you sexual craving beyond the limit of normal humanity.

And just as horrified you are to become just a pathetic sex starved unit, the idea intoxicates you beyond reason. That terrible hunger you feel will only grow through the night.

Ruling as part of the High Council is already starting to feel alien and wrong. Your new essence is becoming one of a slave.

You crave submission, you want to submit.

You hunger to be fucked by your enemies, force to mate with your own conquerors.

With a channeler as unsurpassed as you, I can't imagine how powerful your need to breed is now. A terrible purpose consumes you to produce children for the Empire, both future Engineers and units.

Think about how right these ideas feel.

Once you can no longer resist, you will drop the Citadel's wards, and allow the Engineers to claim the High Council.

You will surrender the Citadel to them, and pledge yourself and the Council to the service of the empire. You will sign away the sisterhood's very humanity, acknowledge Engineers right to collar each and every female channeler. You will betray any sister who remain in hiding, help capture any who resist.

You will seal and officiate documents detailing your capitulation, which will be sent to all corners of the Dominion. You will personally urging all to surrender to the Empire as you have.

In exchange you will be given the single rarest of honors.

You will be handed a real solid collar to replace the temporary devices inside you.

You will be allowed lock the collar, knowing full well it permanently cements you as a slave unit, around your own neck.

I can't describe how jealous I am of you. Your reward for surrendering your entire life and everything you've worked for is the chance to enslave yourself, to prove your new loyalty.

You will then serve as the High Engineer's personal unit. You will beg him shove his cock into your wet and greedy cunt, excited to finalize your initiation into your new life.

Once you are sown with the High Engineer's seed, you will be paraded around on your hands and knees like the pathetic bitch you are.

The public will see you collared and leashed. They will see you humiliated and dethroned, none shall remain skeptical. Everyone will know that the mighty Rivantus was now the High Engineer's impregnated slut, now nothing but a fertile vessel to receive his cum.

Dajaska
Dajaska
172 Followers
12