Lilith's Fall

Spoiler Tags: Male to Futa, Futa on Female, Femdom, Transgender, Transformation, Fantasy, Domination, Submission, Mind Control, MtH

*****

We stood in rows, like soldiers at attention facing their general, although we were naked instead of in uniform. Six menacing guards surrounded us and prevented any potential shenanigans or escape attempts.

I wonder what they're going to do with us?

I'd yet to be beaten, but these solid iron loops around my neck and wrists didn't promise a life of puppy dogs and bedtime stories. The metal didn't chafe, and I still didn't understand how they'd welded it around my appendages without any heat source.

Magic, it had to have been. I thought the news stories were fabrications from drunk hillbillies. But it must be true. The invaders have magic. These "Crusaders" haven't abused me yet, so I'm not prepared to kick and scream. All I have left is to wait and see how everything goes. I hope Jessie made it away safely. He should be able to care for the wheat. That farm is all we have left of our folks.

Some of the men in line with me snapped and snarled like beasts, their bodies pockmarked with dirty cuts, bruises, and scars, a feast that indicated lives of hardship and violence. Their iron loops led to chains that affixed to the floor, clinking with their motion as they tested their strength against the restraints.

Others looked calculating, watching the guards with eyes that promised cold retribution and death. Only a rare few looked like me, shifting from foot to foot, nervously waiting on our fate. Wincing at the memories of my capture, I fought to stop my gorge from rising too far, desperate not to puke on the man standing in front of us, anxiety and guilt making a roiling mess of my stomach. We were still dripping a bit of water after our production line baths and I didn't want to be singled out for anything.

Our combined fate walked through the tent flap in the form of a man. This man was a giant, and bore no weapons as he strode the the crimson entrance of a tent which sprawled above us like a cathedral.

"Prisoners, I'm here to facilitate your reorientation. For the crime of murder, you are sentenced to five years of servitude. Now, I need everyone to focus on the melnad," he said, holding up a wooden cross that glowed with an unnaturally calming light. A few turned their heads, looking away from the man with disdain at the given order. I tried to turn my head, but I'd already looked at the light, and once I'd seen it, the cross wouldn't let me look away. In my peripherals the guards converged on the holdouts, forcing their heads and eyes into position until we all stared, comfortably unblinking, at what I reasoned to be a melnad.

"Good. Here are your commandments," he spoke with soft conviction, his voice filling up the empty corners of the room until I was swimming in sound.

The light and his voice combined into a silken serpent that coiled around my brain, constricting over and over again. Squeezing, until his words were the only thing that mattered. From what I could see, my experience seemed to be the norm for the prisoners. An intricate golden rune began to form onto each of our foreheads, looking something like a mixture of a cross and an ampersand.

"You shall obey your master so long as the order does not endanger others. Secondly, you will protect your master from threats of external harm. Finally, you are not allowed to injure yourself unless it is done to follow a previous commandment. Such is the will of God, he who rules above all."

The runes flared for a second, dousing the room in an uncomfortable light and heat. An itchy feeling smothered my brain before going away, the rune on our heads dimming.

The speaker pocketed the melnad as the guards at the far end of the structure began shuffling dazed looking servants out of the tent. Free to move, I approached the speaker, concerned about something he'd said at the start of his speech.

He was examining a tablet that looked to be composed of fallen light, unfamiliar runescript running up the device in a scrolling manner that reminded me of Star Wars.

"Ummm. Excuse me?" I asked tremulously, nervous now that I was in front of such a commanding individual. He looked up from his tablet, focusing on me as I fidgeted.

In that moment another prisoner struck, landing a blow that rocked the speakers head. Two guards converged on the prisoner, one of them taking what I'd dubbed the 'taser stick' out of her uniform and paralyzing the offending prisoner.

"Sociopath," she muttered darkly. "I'll take him to Melitas," she promised the speaker as the two hauled away the prisoner.

The speaker turned back to me, an intense rage burning on his face.

"Sorry about-" I began apologizing.

"Silence!" he shouted. My rune flared once, the last light of the melnad evaporating into my brain, sinking it's mystical tentacles into my folds. Another guard rushed up and grabbed my arms, forcing them behind my back and holding them there. The captain closed his eyes and visibly reined in his rage, waving off the guard restraining me. He rubbed at his jaw, flexing it a couple of times before speaking.

"Okay. What was it you were saying?" he said, echoes of anger still lingering around the edges of his expression.

Opening my mouth nothing came out.

What the?

Incredulous I tried again with the same results.

I can't speak!

Like a fish, my mouth flapped without a sound as I fought to produce a sound. Paint drying was louder than what was coming out of my throat. A cold fear filled my gut, realization dousing me with icy dread.

"Are you trying to piss me-," he said, growing angry again before he realized what'd happened. "Oh. Sorry about that. Maybe your master can fix that that once the commandment rune settles. Actually..." he said, turning to the guard restraining me. "Take him to Helal, she's in need of a servant, although she'd never pick one for herself. A quiet and demure one like this might avoid her wrath for a time."

Nodding, the guard marched me out of the tent while I struggled to wrap my brain around my new reality. We left the center of the camp, heading towards the outskirts, the tents steadily becoming more elaborate and gaudy as we traveled. A more modest tent of middling size stood in front of us, almost spartan in its lack of decorations and embroidery compared to its neighbors. Nervously, my guard marched up to the front of the tent, taking a second to compose himself and clear his throat before speaking.

"Commander Helal, a prisoner has been provided to act as your servant," he called out, his voice overly loud.

Silence was the only response.

Looking terrified, he considered various options while mumbling to himself before approaching the entrance.

"Commander Helal, I shall leave the prisoner in your entryway." He turned and addressed me. "Prisoner, you shall stand inside her tent. Do not touch anything. Do not make trouble until she gets home. Is that clear?" he said threateningly, venting his anxiety at a less imposing target.

This commander must be a real monster to instill this kind of fear. Also, the whole not-talking-thing is going to get old quickly. And I imagine it will get me into loads of trouble considering my new "profession."

"Is that clear?" he snapped at me.

I snapped an instinctive salute just to do something in the affirmative. Opening mouth, I waved my hand in front of it, eyes wide as I tried to get my point across.

"Oh right. You have your instructions," he called out before hurrying away as if his coat tail was on fire.

The tent opened up into a living space comparable to a one person apartment, complete with bookshelves, rocking chair and couch. I tried to take a step forward and explore the area more thoroughly but the guards command stopped me cold. Sighing in defeat, I settled in for a long wait.

An hour and a half later, the entrance flap opened, a reddish-haired woman entering as if she owned the place.

Which she probably does.

My back ached as I stretched up from my sitting position, beginning to rise to my feet. Reacting with whip like speed, she punched me in the gut and threw me to the floor with a well practiced judo maneuver. By the time she was done, she loomed above me with a knee on my throat. Her eyes flicked to the sigil on my forehead and her hostility eased.

Fractionally.

"Who are you supposed to be?" she said, her knee still on my throat.

Even fearing for my life I still managed to answer her with a sarcastic eyebrow arch, eyes dancing down towards where her knee still choked me.

"Right. Sorry about that. Now, tell me what you're doing in my home?" She released the pressure on my throat.

This is Commander Helal? I suspected more of a musclebound meathead than a California girl with ninja skills.

I tried to mouth words at her. "I can't speak."

I pointed at the sigil and prayed to god that she understood what I was trying to convey.

"My fuse is exceedingly short and I've had a very long day. So, if your playing games with me, stop," she growled, narrowing her eyes with obvious menace.

My testicles made an admirable effort to hide within my body.

I fought to keep myself from gibbering I held my throat as if I was choking.

"If you don't say anything in five seconds I'm going to do something... unpleasant. Five."

My eyes bulged and my mouth flapped.

"Four."

I heaved and tried to get out from under her.

"Three."

Adrenaline pumped through my veins and my struggles redoubled.

"Two." Then her eyes widened in some sort of realization and she eased off her pressure.

"There's no way you're faking that fear. And yet, you still haven't said anything. Let me guess, something went wrong with the imprinting process."

My head bobbed up and down in my best, most enthusiastic, bobblehead impression.

"And then he went and pawned you off on me in the hope that I could use or deal with you appropriately. Asshole."

I cocked my head to the side, unsure how I was supposed to respond.

"Well, you're obviously not a threat Let's get you up and situated so we can start to figure this out. It's not your fault that I'm stuck with you." She pulled me to my feet. Helal turned and began moving through the cloth hallway.

My legs refused to move, and I worried that she might take offense when I didn't follow her order.

"Come on in."

The sigil thrummed, and the brakes holding my legs released, allowing me to walk forward. Clutching my chest, I followed her deeper into the tent, my heart still thundering after the physical confrontation and scare.

The tent was about the size of a one person apartment, complete with upright stove that piped smoke out through a pipe that funneled it out of a hole in the roof. The floor was lumpy, mixmashed rugs strewn everywhere over the uneven ground, overlapping and providing a patchwork quilt styling to the scene. There was a small wooden island and a bowl of standing water to act like a sink. A rocking chair sat empty next to an overfilled bookshelf, the multitude of bound paper novels spilling out on top of one another along the shelves.

Helal twisted her hair and shook it out, allowing the metallic strands to flow freely from the wound up bun and tickle her shoulders. Her hair possessed an unearthly sheen, shining with the same colors as a russet sunrise, equal amount of ineffable mysticality. Her skin was lightly bronzed, indicating a healthy amount of time spent under the sun.

She faced me directly, squaring her shoulders and folding her arms behind her back like a drill sergeant. "You are allowed to speak."

"Testing. One. Two. Three," I mouthed, still producing no sound. Shaking my head, I held my hands up off to my sides of my shoulders, shrugging.

"Well, it was worth a shot." She wrinkled her nose, focusing her attention on prying loose the armor that plastered itself to her legs. Seemingly unconcerned with my lack of attire, she sighed in release as she let the metal pieces fall to the side. She possessed a lithely muscled body, her limbs practically thrumming with well mastered strength and body control. She rocked her neck from side to side, twin cracks of tendons rocking over bone snapping out. Rolling her shoulders, she glanced at me speculatively. Undeniably beautiful, her physical presence working in tandem with her stunning eyes to render me speechless. Sighing, she rubbed the space between her eyes as if to ward off a burgeoning headache.

"I'll tinker a bit and we'll figure out a way around or a method to break the compulsion. Tonight is not that night, however. I'm tired, hungry, and ready for bed. How do you feel about whipping me up a bite to eat?" She looked over, and I didn't respond. "Sorry, that was a cruel attempt at humor. I've got something that might help with communication. Although, supposedly you deserve this fate. What crime did you commit to land yourself here?"

I was equal parts frustrated and ashamed, that horrible day mixing with my current muteness, forcing me to turn my head away.

"Sorry again, that was thoughtless. Twice over." She looked apologetic. "I'll be back in a moment." She traveled deeper into the domicile through the only other hallway. My fingers sketched the coarse fabric of the walls. They were taut, weighed down by heavy wooden planks slotted into a pocket that ran along the bottom of the wall.

Helal returned with a two foot by two foot green chalk board and a mechanical pencil that used chalk instead of lead.

And a robe.

I blushed as I donned the plush garment.

I can't believe I actually forgot I was naked. Well except for my restraints.

The metal weighed on my wrist without chafing, I shook them absentmindedly while I positioned the board against a countertop.

"Thank you," I wrote cautiously. Still off balance from the abrupt shift in life trajectory, I decided to be as courteous and deferential as I could. Which I thought was wise, considering I had no choice but to obey her every command.

"Sorry I can't do anything about the restraints, rules say that prisoners can't go without them. It helps to create an easily identifiable visual profile that helps solidify hierarchy in times of crises." She spoke with the terse rhythm of military personnel. Which matched the impression I'd received with her greeting.

"It's okay. They aren't so bad."

"It's barbaric but they do serve a purpose. They also are imbued with healing magic so that they won't chafe or pinch too badly. They should help keep you able-bodied, capable of resisting most common ailments."

I didn't quite know how to respond to that, so I just shifted my weight from foot to foot and looked everywhere but at her.

"Not that I intend to subject you to common ailments or anything..."

Pinching her lips tersely, she looked almost as confounded by the situation as I felt. She, however, had an out. Walking up to me, she laid a warm hand on my shoulder. "I'm gonna go shower. Make yourself comfortable, feel free to explore and... if you feel like it, put things away. I've lived alone long enough to let things slide and the place has certainly suffered for it." A forced chuckle slipped through her lips as she left the room with an awkward wave.

Grateful to Helal, I did as she asked, appreciating her thoughtfulness in giving me a modest task that let me acclimate to both my situation and environment. Letting me find my footing while alone and not under her watchful, gorgeous eyes.

I feel like I'm a wild animal that's been placed in a zoo, and my keeper is trying to ease my transition.

There were only four rooms to the house. The living room slash kitchen, containing the majority of the furniture. A guest room with a floor futon and locked chest. The sounds of water splashing let me locate the bathroom where Helal was presumably bathing. By logical elimination that left only Helal's bedroom. She had a large bed, with a soft looking cream colored comforter that hung disheveled off half the edge. A single dresser had all four of its drawers opened to varying lengths with various outfits spilling out of it like a fabric disembowelment due to laziness.

I decided to get to work, hoping to impress my keeper with my initiative and start our relationship on good footing.

Better footing, I thought, remembering the way she'd threatened me after I'd been ordered to invade her home.

Starting with the comforter, I gave it a sharp shake to spread it out and begin making the bed presentable. Something hidden in its folds fell out and clattered to the floor with a high pitched chime.

Shit!

The last thing I wanted to do on my first night here was to break something. Hurrying around the bed, I caught sight of the troublesome object lying intact on the rug.

A square cut diamond, about the size of a ping pong ball lay innocuously on the floor. The light in the room refracted onto a small rainbow, gracing the burgundy rug with a riot of color. My chest seized when I noticed a cloudy occlusion swirling inside the center of the gem.

Then it moved.

Dancing around the rigid lattice like spiraling smoke from a bonfire, the motion eased my worry, the fear of having broken something lessening with evidence of the magical nature of the gem. Not thinking of potential consequences, I bent over and touched the diamond.

One moment I was in the tent...

Then I wasn't.

I was... elsewhere.

Facing a very different view.

I blinked, but the view refused to change.

Sauntering towards me, birthday-suit naked, eyes cast demurely downward, was an enchanting woman. She wasn't from our world, displaying the same graceful ethereality Helal and the other invaders of her race possessed. Hair so dark it appeared to contain an almost supernatural shade of violet bobbed on her head with every step. Her stomach was trim, flaring out into an ample waist and backside that seemed to ripple with bountiful femininity. A demure sensualness lurked behind her overt submission, drawing a feral grin to my face, my hands itching to sink into her flesh. She raised her head, just for an instant, just long enough to glimpse her eyes. Sparkling orbs of striking jade, they burned with eminent, triumphant desire. Pulsing, naked, hungry desire.

For me.

Deviating her course, she avoided me with a scant handspan space between our electrically charged bodies. It was that moment that I discovered a truth I hadn't yet realized, so enthralled was I by the morsel dangling herself in front of me, I was not holding the reigns of the body I currently occupied. The world went dark as someone other than mine ordered my eyes closed in a slow, seductive blink.

While cataloging the multitude of differences my new body held, I had a singular moment of extreme dysphoria, my body feeling alien and wrong, like a poorly tailored suit hanging off an incompatible frame. Breasts hung heavy off my bared chest, swaying subtly with my shifting weight, dissipated the energy into my toned body after it turned to chase the alluring woman. A strange energy, something that felt like liquid light, swam through my veins, bubbling with untapped otherworldly potential. My slender hands were crisscrossed with a myriad of pale scars, remnants of old sword lessons from a time long passed. There was an ache I was unaccustomed to feeling between my thighs and upon my breasts. A stirring that spoke of blood flow and burgeoning desires. My thighs grew damp, sliding against one another, propelling me toward the genesis of my lust, my hips swaying in a sultry saunter.