The Tale of Licentia the Wife-Doll

"SILENCE YOUR MOUTH, you filthy wench," The Necromancer roared in response, to the sorceress's dismay. Through intense arcane study and arduous practice, Lasenia had, during her career, mastered the art of the tongue, and gained the ability to intuitively know the precise combination and melody of intonations to make even the most simplistic of phrases utterly swaying. Yet it had not the slightest effect on this man?

And what's more, she had no inclination to quiet herself-- far from it-- and yet, the amulet obeyed its owner's command and at once silenced its crystalline hum-- leaving the entrapped Lasenia unable to speak as well.

"Allow me to spell this out for your worthless little woman-brain to more easily fathom. I intend to make molten whatever mind your corpse still has, and sculpt it into that of a vapid, whorish pet." A sneer of disdain could be heard upon his lips. "Your body will be next. Even with a plump behind and udders such as those that you possess, you are not as unrespectably sinful as a perfect woman should be. News, I'm sure, to a conceited cunt such as yourself." Lasenia was simmering with rage from the indignity of it all-- the objectification, the subpar assessment, the straightforward insults. "No, a perfect woman would have a body lewd enough as to remind it constantly of what a ridiculous little sex doll it is. So that is what I shall gift you.

"When your body is perfect, I'm going to keep you. My companion is going to live at my knees and sleep on my floor and suckle my cock happily whenever she can. I will have her subsist on only cum and urine. She shall cook and clean, and be a lovely little trophy for her Owner, her man. She shall be his stress-relieving rapedoll, and his pathetic, eager plaything jester. His wife-doll." And as if to demonstrate, Lasenia's body stuck its tongue out, dripping excesses of saliva onto its nude cleavage, and released its now-aching chest nubs so it could freely and rapidly begin to shake and jiggle its sex-mounds from side to side-- as a consequence, drawing special attention to its now-thoroughly-abused, bruised, darkened nipples.

Lasenia said nothing. Even should he had returned her voice to her through the amulet, she would not have been able. The rage had turned to panic and dread. She was dealing with-- abducted by-- a sadistic, misogynistic madman, she knew as much for certain then. Her confidence faltered, but she did not lose hope.

Lasenia's corpse stopped shaking its chest, and with the snap of his fingers, the Necromancer had it, instead, beginning to undress. With each garment that the corpse removed, it proceeded to incinerate every last thread in violet flames; it seemed that said corpse still possessed Lasenia's ability for sorcery, despite the lack of a soul. Even its hair-ties and clips turned to ash, letting Lasenia's luscious hair fall down to chest length, untamed.

Whilst Lasenia's corpse stripped itself of its clothing, and whilst Lasenia was forced to helplessly watch her former body entirely expose itself, the Necromancer now turned his attention momentarily to the princess, that slave of Lasenia's he had appropriated and branded. He had not done the same to her as he had to Lasenia; the princess still had her soul safe and sound within her puppet-branded body. He gripped her face tight, and as he did, the black branding along the princess's back came alive and shifted like a liquid up to her neck, forming a new design around the throat. At first, the princess's face contorted with quiet tightness, but it soon relaxed into a numb, blank expression. The liquid tattoo had settled, and now depicted a collar, viny and thorned, stretching around her neck; 'twas a new brand, distinct from the spinal puppet-brand of before.

"Mreow~!" the princess purred happily. Her eyes were vacant, but blissfully so. Her head was empty, except for the thoughts which the Necromancer was now feeding her stupid little brain. She fell to her knees, front paws on the floor almost instinctively. She was no longer her old self; her mind had been overwritten. She'd been reduced to a docile kitten of a princess, unaware that her perky breasts were hanging lewdly in front of her, or that whilst swaying her cute ass behind her, her nudity could somehow be offensive or shameful, or that a woman of her status shouldn't be on the floor, meowing like a housepet.

"Your servant lass is something of a bitch now, is she not?" The man mocked cruelly behind his mask. "Let us send her back to her family like this." The Necromancer waved his fingers, puppeteering Lasenia's corpse into casting an incantation: it swayed its hands and, in a droning tone, chimed an enchantment with its possessed vocal cords. Then suddenly, the kitten-princess was pulled away into the ether in a flashing light, and, in an instant, was gone. Within moments, her family would be greeted by the horror of seeing their prized young lady forever demoted to a whore-kitten in heat. But to the licentious and kind men she would find in and throughout her life, she would still be quite a prize; so, her new life as a pet would be a happy one-- that is to say, she would encounter more than enough phalluses to keep herself, mind-wiped sex-animal that she was, entertained and satisfied.

From within the amulet, Lasenia's soul was filled with terror-- and at the same time, an erudite's admiration. This second brand didn't control the body nor simply make obedience obligatory (like the initial spinal-brand, and Lasenia's attempts on the process at an obedience seal, respectively). No, those were clunky, willful, most definitely not autonomous; those resembled puppeteering a puppet, or magical coercion. This latest brand exceeded that-- Lasenia could tell, in the fluidity of the princess's movements and in the natural rest of her face. The Necromancer had managed to break down and reconstruct the girl's mind, to mold it, to alter her actual personality and identity. It was the difference between simply forcing the princess to meow and crawl, and thoroughly melting her mind, her behavior, into a sex-kitten mold. All thanks to that 'collar-brand.'

With the princess gone, the Necromancer turned her attention back to Lasenia's soulless, and now absolutely nude, husk of a body-- which left her considerably more panicked. As he approached the living corpse, Lasenia wanted to scream; how had control been ripped from her in an instant? She couldn't even protest. She could only look on, as her captor traced and admired her body's heavy breasts, rounded, womanly hips, bushy mons, and voluptuous ass.

Lasenia had held great pride over her body-- she'd cared for it like a temple and had enjoyed revelling vainly in her appearance. And here, her most personal possession was nude, on display, and under his ownership.

"Life has such narrow limits. A woman would die before I could finish altering her," the Necromancer complained. "A living person is a fragile toy." Lasenia watched as her own corpse kneeled and spread her thighs, perfectly in sync with the brutal kick to her exposed genitals that was to follow, and which threw her onto her back. It very much horrified and disturbed Lasenia to see such visceral abuse inflicted upon her own body.

"The dead, however... Take, for instance, this wench-corpse." The Necromancer walked over to the vacant corpse of Lasenia, which had the expressiveness of a mannequin upon its countenance. This time, it both spread its thighs and gripped its own labia tightly, pulling them apart and exposing its own pussy to him; the sadist then stepped down hard on her cunt and held all his weight there. "The flesh of the dead, is malleable as clay, for someone like me. I could tear it into a thousand pieces and put it right back together." As he gripped the corpse's cheeks, it opened its mouth, flopping its tongue out again. This time, he gripped it tight between his rough and thick fingers spitting right into its mouth. His mask had shifted itself up for just a moment, and Lasenia caught sight of the Necromancer's dark beard. "Yet, the reanimated corpse has a downside. There's nothing there, behind the eyes. No one to enjoy the torment. It's a toy, and just a toy." He slapped it angrily across the face.

There was an uneasy pause-- before, suddenly, Lasenia felt the gentle crystalline hum of the amulet return-- and along with it, her voice. But she got barely a single enunciation out before her prison, the amulet, had been pulled from the Necromancer's neck, and pressed perfectly into the beautiful navel of her own corpse. The moment the violet crystal touched the unnaturally warm skin, Lasenia could see through her own eyes again, she was returned to her body-- and she could feel everything. It was as if all the torture he'd unleashed on this meat-doll had been inflicted on her at once. Every inch of her skin, every drop of pounding blood in her bruised and purpling nipples, the bruises across her face, the excruciating sharp pain of a thousand daggers in her crotch. But she, herself, could not control her body, only experience it. And so, though the excruciating torrent of pain and the unbecoming arousal that accompanied it both compelled her to shriek out, the vocal cords of the cadaver which imprisoned her made not a single reverberation. And then, just a moment after the crystal had touched the skin, it was pulled away, and the sensation was over. She could see only through the amulet again. Her soul, trapped again within only the crystal, had been disconnected from the body.

Despite the pain ceasing all at once, Lasenia remained shaken by the sadistic experience. "LET ME FREEEE!!!" she screeched, at the top of her lungs. She announced incantations, curses-- anything to escape or retaliate. But her soul had been crystallized, she had no body to cast spells anymore. Her panic was at a peak. "Necromancer," she scorned, her voice breaking. "When I find a way out of here-- and I will-- I'll inflict on you the all the tortures a Sorceress-King is capable of. No one would be able to recognize you were ever human. You'll be a mound of flesh and agony I'll keep in my laboratory to experiment on," the woman scathed from the crystal. She fully intended to fulfill her promise with vengeful pleasure.

In response, Necromancer laughed a deep, abyssal laugh. "If you're so intent on being difficult, then you can stay put and stay silent as a good woman should. Feel free to witness what I make of your obscene body." He snapped his fingers and the hum of the amulet was silenced again, to Lasenia's dismay. And with the same immediacy, Lasenia's corpse hoisted itself into a squatting position, its thighs parted and its hands resting upon its knees.

Then, he begun. The Necromancer, with his shadowy claw, carved a deep but small slit atop the corpse's left breast, just above her heart. He took a blackened vial from his hip, full of a noxious crimson liquid, and tipped a drop into the wound of the corpse. From it, a red glow began to spread through all the veins and capillaries over its body, before fading and allowing its normal skin tone to retake itself. Suddenly, the corpse-doll's bruises mended themselves, its cut sealed itself-- it was as if no harm had been inflicted upon it. Its nipples too lost their bruise-purple shade, except what's more, they stayed even more-excitedly erect than before. Similarly, its face flushed a lusty warm-pink. As Lasenia watched this increasingly-perverse regenerative fluid affect her former body, in her periphery she caught sight of a glistening sheen-- a sleek moistness was running over the lips between the body's thighs. Finally, over the former cut above her breast, a void-black brand appeared in the shape of a heart, with a cross-stitch design down the middle. A brand-new brand.

"The gift of the perfect whore's libido. To keep my bitch in heat." For emphasis, he kicked Lasenia's corpse in the pussy on 'bitch.' It crumpled backwards onto the floor, and the redness and bruising could be seen almost immediately. But as quickly as they came, they faded away.

Lasenia was horrified. He'd produced a panacea, to keep one eternally healthy. And it was being used so she could be eternally abused and eternally horny. But he was still just getting started.

"Stupid wench..." he purred, with a condescending affection, running his sharp, thick, shadowy fingers across his doll's chin, like a pet. "The living can't take more than one brand at a time before breaking."

Lasenia recalled with unease how the Necromancer had simply shifted the princess's spine-brand into a collar-brand; they were not simultaneous.

"How many brands do you think this doll can handle?" The Necromancer mused with sultry anticipation. He gripped the corpse's neck, and it began to sizzle all round with the same void-black smoke that had come off of its spine-brand. Necromancer removed his hand, and revealed that upon the body's neck was a mind-breaking collar-brand-- the same that had been used on the princess not minutes ago. Now, Doll-Lasenia had three brands, and they would not be the last.

"Even without the soul," mused the sorcerer, rubbing the amulet within which Lasenia's soul resided, "the brain remains." He flicked Doll-Lasenia's forehead, to no response but the same stupidly blank expression. "Without the soul, there's no one truly behind this doll's eyes right now-- no one to see through them. But the brain works the same, regardless."

The Necromancer's hand made a motion, and Doll-Lasenia's expression contorted with pain. "Which means that within, there is a mind to BREAK."

The doll suddenly screeched out in agony, clutching its head. Lasenia within the amulet felt an intense distress at the piercing noise of her own body's pained screech. Then it was over, all at once. The doll took in a breath, and a new expression settled on its face-- a fluid, natural, living expression. It wasn't being puppeteered anymore; its mind had been rewritten, just as the princess's had. And it looked... happy. Disturbingly happy.

Lasenia, from within the amulet, looked on in horror, as she watched her own re-animated body smile sweetly for the Necromancer, before sinking slowly to her knees, spreading her thighs, holding her hands obediently together in front of her (in the process pushing her ample breasts outwards) and then sensually swaying both her hips and torso, perfectly synchronized as to make her breasts and ass dance gently together.

"Hello, Sir!" the doll mewled, her gaze and voice overflowing with adoration. The doll still had her sultry, womanly tone of voice, but it now overflowed with innocent and sincerely sweet devotion to the Necromancer. "May I be of service to you in any way?"

"That's a good doll," the Necromancer praised, ignoring the doll's question. He flexed his hand, and the doll's back flexed inward involuntarily-- he could still puppeteer her movements manually, should he choose to. Her breasts were consequently pushed out and up towards him, and then her hands, also puppeteered, moved themselves beneath her large mammaries and held them up. The doll was being forced to present its teats for him. The doll's confusion was soon replaced by another ditzy, genuine smile. Submissive and lustful, her face remained flushed pink with need and her nipples were perked up desperately, hard as pebbles.

The Necromancer looked down at her with a condescending tilt of his head, before bringing down his leather backhand hard upon the tops of her breasts.

"NNNG!!" she mewled out in pain. The doll's breasts jiggled maniacally and her pale skin bruised quickly. Yet moments later, the bruises glowed pink and faded away-- and as they did, she gasped and moaned softly, the pink glow seeming to send an extra jolt of arousal through her body. Her panacea-brand was healing her again. She was the ideal sadist's-plaything.

"Thank you, Master!!" she mewled, whilst having her poor breasts backhanded over and over. Her eyes were watering with pain, yet Doll-Lasenia's brain was now programmed to feel overwhelmingly grateful to her owner for abusing her breasts.

"How do you like your new self, little slut?"

Willed by the Necromancer, the amulet's hum returned along with the true Lasenia's voice. Yet, she was speechless. Words could not describe the depths of her hatred for this man, for the grotesque perversity he had imposed so unceremoniously upon her re-animated body. If there had ever existed anything more diametrically opposed to 'honor,' 'respect,' 'dignity,' 'pride,' it must have been this-- the depraved and absolute ownership the Necromancer had exacted, not only over Lasenia's corpse, but over Lasenia herself.

"I--"

"I love it~!" purred Doll-Lasenia's sweet yet womanly voice. Her butt bounced excitedly on her heels, only exacerbating the feverish jiggling of her breasts.

Lasenia within the amulet, felt immediately enraged at this perverse wench of herself responding for her, and further angered (with a twinge of embarrassment) upon realizing the Necromancer may not have been asking her-- the real Lasenia-- to begin with. Yet before she could say another word, his fingers snapped and her chance to speak was lost as the crystal's hum went silent once again.

"But of course you do." He gently held the toy's head before giving her a brutal slap across the face. Again, pleasure seemed to seep in through the pain, despite her whimpering. She looked up at him again with vacant eyes, a deep blush and a wide smile; on top of that, a dribbling stream of drool, absentmindedly ran from her agape mouth down her bruised face (which, with a pink glow, healed itself back to her usual flawless, porcelain complexion not a moment later) and onto her exposed DD cups.

Having had her dignity raped and rights stripped away from her left Lasenia's sense of self already crumbling, watching this man make of her body a brainless sex doll only exacerbated this deterioration, as the inevitable pressure of helplessness seeped into her psyche.

The Necromancer had far from finished, however. He stepped ominously towards his doll and began to unwrap the tight bindings round his fist. They burned away into golden flames, and beneath them was gauntlet of a hand--sharp, hard, and with a manly delineation across the back, not to mention clawed and silhouetted-- made of the thickest of shadows. Whatever this man was, he wasn't a normal human anymore. He was beyond that. And this monster had its claws on Lasenia's succulent body. The thick liquid-shadow hand grazed down between her breasts, slivers and wisps of shadow warm and viscous, sizzling off him and licking at Lasenia's bare skin. "Nnng...~" the doll whined licentiously. Contact with the shadows felt like a steaming syrup of concentrated hedonic lust. It sent ripples of sinful heat through her body, her nipples perking up yet harder and her pussy visibly twitching with excitement. The hand trailed over the doll's navel before resting above her pussy. Shadows burned and flickered over her bush, and trailed down further-- once his hand had pressed on past the hair and rested its fingers upon her lips, the bush had been burned away into a perfectly trimmed heart shape.

"Who's my stupid fucking wench?" The Necromancer's fingers of silhouetted liquid lust seeped into Lasenia's pussy lips, making them throb desperately with need.

"LASENIA is, Sir..." the doll moaned obediently, in her sultry voice. Her pussy twitched and flexed in anticipation of his fingers inside of her, dripping its warm honey from its reddened lips, down her pale thighs. Lasenia couldn't stand to watch the humiliating display of female debauchery.

"She isn't. 'Lasenia' is what they called that vapid excuse for a sorceress. 'Sorceress-King,'" the man growled menacingly. "An arrogant little cunt didn't belong at the peak of the pyramid. So I killed her."