No more. Please, no more.
Drawing shallow rapid breaths, a man prayed. His naked body spread on an ancient altar. His heavy chest shook every time his lungs draw air with all the growing effort. Even the cold that permeated from the stone underneath him did nothing to alleviate the heat of the fever burning his body.
Every ounce of his being screamed in agony while the runes carved into the altar kept him conscious, denying him even the slightest chance to rest.
”Soon honey, soon. We are waiting.” A woman in a plain blue dress, the one he bought her that day in the market, put her hand on his chest.
Finally, against the raging magic that kept him bound to this world, his heart gave in. Drawing one final breath, he let it escape with a peaceful sigh. A tear rolled down his cheek, he was free.
=========][ Apathy : Chapter 3 – All I need is love, love. Paid love is all I need. ][=========
Lilerea von Ayeree
On the subject of current study
the Fourteenth of Vala in Tenth year of Gronn, king of Crovellem
Unfortunately the reverse matrix with outside focusing deflector have not met with the much anticipated success. Subject sixty nine have expired today within the morning hours after exactly thirty two days into the procedure. This result remains consistent with the previous subjects, averaging thirty days with up to three days deviation before the subject terminates. This coincides with second phase of the procedure. It appears that replicating the desired configuration within any given specimen may prove more difficult than initially expected.
The dissection of the subject did not yield any significant data. I have determined the cause of death to be a massive heart failure, most likely caused by the matrix empowering effect. What followed was rapid tissue degeneration that subsequently rendered useless all revival attempts. The body completely decayed within an hour of expiry. I was unable to salvage any study material.
Apart from the rapid decomposition of the subject’s corpse, there is whatsoever no correlation found between any of the previous cases.
In the light of the above I must admit to the fact of the current succubae design is…
She paused, her quill resting above the parchment. All it took was one word. She would not utter it. No, never. Though, the temptation was there. One simple word, five strokes of the quill and she would be done with it.
No. She was too stubborn for that.
In the light of the above I must admit to the fact of the current succubae design is requiring more work. From what could be observed the initial treatment of the subject and grafting of the body parts is progressing smoothly and without any complication. I should focus on the association phase of the second stage of the procedure. As shown in the other designs this is the most crucial part and even the miniscule changes in the matrix stability as well as the background interferences can fatally influence the outcome. Perhaps with better shielding and the use of the mermaid matrix design this phase could be completed.
But that would have to wait. She had a backlog of commissions from all over the Crovellem. House of Revolem had inquired for ten new girls, all specials. She had not browse through the inquiry just yet though knowing their tastes she would need to stock up on hooves, horns, tails, furs and scales in general. Then there was the Prancing Whoopler that paid for five more, long legged elves with their doe eyes. At the same time the Pink Clover was opening another place west of Badura and would take whatever else she had left. Also next week she had to take care of the baroness Straviga. Had it not been for her gold, she would roast that pig on the spot. After that… Was there anyone else? Ah yes. The Melleroys. Their daughter will be coming next moon. A new gills then. The Melleroys had a peculiar tradition of turning their heiress into a mermaid. Quite a way of celebrating your sixteen birthday by getting your legs chopped off. Well there was a price to everything, her own body was a testament of that.
She put down the quill and stretched, outside the window the night was slowly letting up. Dawn was not far ahead, had she spend so much time on this? Her bones crackled. It was time to get more work done.
Descending down the stairs, her slender legs carried her down to the basement. There, hidden behind menacing, black door, her inventory awaited her.
There were shelves. Some smaller, holding herbs, precious stones and jars full of body parts. Others were larger, able to accommodate whole body. These were full of fresh corpses and not quite dead people, all preserved with the time slowing chill.
Exhaling puffs of white smoke, she walked between shelves, leaving a trail of frost covered footsteps on the black stone. She enjoyed this place, the biting cold did not bother her and the everlasting silence calmed her and helped her focus on the work ahead.
It would make sense to start with the Whoopler request. They already paid and it was quite a simple commission with not much work required. She would take a female, marinate her inside a tank full of herbs for a week or two until the body was properly rid of whatever her previous life has given her. Then she would cut her open and replace or remove whatever was necessary. Break and stretch the bones until they were of proper length. Remove a rib or two to get the wasp waist clients demanded and squeeze in more fat and tissue into the breast. Last but not least reshape the face and bleach the skin. If the subject survived all that, she would get new, sparkling eyes and long pointy ears. Doing those was a royal pain in the ass and took several hours of sewing, poking and cutting. Not to mention the magic required to keep all of that in one piece. After that it was back inside the herbal bath for another week. Final steps were trivial. She would blank the girl, erasing whatever memories she had, then implant whatever fake memory was necessary. In this case, a sad boring childhood of a tree hugger. An escape from the oppressing elven forest and a new found joy in servicing all those men and their flappy cocks. She will never disobey her owners, she will never try to escape and most important, no matter how much semen her clients would pump up her ass she will never get pregnant. A perfect elven whore and a pure profit.
She bought the bodies from a slave scavenger for as little two silvers for a corpse or ten silvers if the corpse was still breathing. For a female that is. Male corpses were free to take and the live ones went for five to ten copper rua. A barging she could not resist. After adding the cost of herbs, enchants and faulty body parts she had to replace, the total cost per one product oscillated between two hundred and five hundred golden rua. The elven girls she sold for two thousand gold rua or if the buyer wanted some more elaborate enchantments, the price would rise to three or five thousands golden rua. Given that a captured elven beauty would rather take her own life than couple with a human, the Woopler made a lot of coin selling a “Night with a true elvish princess”.
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Well, while technically her products were not of elven blood though they were as good as real ones. Even the pure blooded, tree hugging, elven hypocrites had trouble recognizing her girls for what they were. Maybe it was time to raise the price?
Having chosen five women that would require the least effort, she branded each body with a sign her servants would understand, and a short note describing what to do with the given specimen. The first phase of the procedure did not require her personal attention so that should be enough. No onto the next item.
The house of Revolem inquired for ten new girls, all made to special demand. Resigned, she summoned the inquiry parchment from her study and skimmed through the text.
“Nobles and their damn fetishes…” Annoyed she send away the inquiry and started walking towards the area of her inventory where items nearing expiry were gathered. The request was for a harpy, four lamias, three panthers, one gazelle and one six armed and four breasted woman with two vaginas. Sick perverts. As if getting a mistress was no longer fashionable enough.
Not that she cared. After all, they were her employers and their gold filled her coffer. Depending on the complexity, she charged anything from fifty to five hundred thousand golden rua. No. She didn’t mind. It’s just that their demands were annoying.
Taking a harpy for example, it takes about a month to make one and usually out of five made, two die during the whole process. Lamias on the other hand have a tendency of going bad in the head. Same was true for all the beast men in general. Making half a beast half a woman was quite simple. Making one that would keep her sanity post change? Not so much.
Browsing through the shelves she picked twelve men and three women that both had the highest chance to survive the treatment and at the same time, if any of those she picked would fail, it would not bother her.
Now for the Pink Clover… Woe the establishment frequent by men that would fuck whatever had a wet hole in it. For what she cared, she would send them a bunch of goats and the bastards would not realize. Well, she did send them goats, or at least a part of them. That’s why she kept Aburu goats for.
Aburu was a small village, north of her tower that specialized in goat meat, goat cheese, goat milk and goats in general. After years of selective breeding they have made a local variety of goats. Slightly larger than a normal goat, giving more milk than a normal goat and with a vagina just the right size for a human. She learned that from a local herder that loved his goats more than he loved his wife…
Never the less, she took the best the goats had to offer and the worst the slavers had then with a bit of cutting and sewing, she made profit. As a side effect she was left with buckets full of no longer necessary genitals. Of those, she also made profit.
Was she cruel? Perhaps. She did not care. Her research required gold. An unimaginable amount of gold. Just the price of some basic ingredients could ruin her, not to mention the rare ones that often went for millions of gold rua at a time. Last subject that died on her altar had cost her nearly ten million gold rua, without counting the time and effort she put into it.
This remained her, she had to find a new specimen.
Last time she had used for men and five women. Out of those only one lived long enough for her to apply the mana matrix but even him died shortly after it. That left her with only one last choice. The mermaid matrix. It was the most stable one but it had one flaw. During the activation phase, the subjects body was rapidly heated by the constant mana flow, being literally cooked from the inside.
To counter that, the body had to be cooled down with near freezing water. The water was perfect as it not only cooled the subject, it also shielded it from the outside interference but to survive several days long submersion, one had to either have gills or use mana to air conversion enchantments. The gills were large enough interference in itself while for the conversion to work one would require an abnormal mana capacity, something rare within a slave.
In the end she decided to pick two males and two females. On pair will receive gills while the other only the enchantments.
A pair that would receive gills was an easy choice. She simply took two of the strongest and healthiest slaves she had on hand. As for the other two… Finding a girl that had enough mana to last more than few hours took her the most of the day. As for the male, It felt pointless. The last one that she had that showed some promise expired this morning. She might as well choose whoever and hope for the best.
A young man with a half of his face missing caught her eye. Apart from that wound, his body seemed to be in quite a good condition. He seemed well fed and healthy. His hands bore no signs of heavy labor while his muscles were not as ample as those of a warrior. A castaway noble perhaps?
She traced her finger along the peculiar scar running down the man’s arm. That was not a simple injury but rather something done on purpose. Strange. His body gave off a feeling as if somebody had revived him in a very crude, almost barbaric way. And then it hit her. There was something else wrong with this body. His mana… There was, none. Impossible! Every living being had mana. Nothing could live without mana, unless… She put her hand over his heart where large amounts of mana normally gathered. It was faint but the feeling was there. It was mixing and bubbling and… She jolted her hand away in an instant. That was, dangerous.
Excited and terrified at the same time, she studied again the face of the unconscious man.
“Just who upon the name of Gaia are you.” She whispered, knowing she had found the perfect specimen.
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To all the faithful readers - Thank You!
I am not a speedy writer and as some might have noticed, I am not a native English speaker. As such, my current goal is to produce a chapter of as good quality as I can once every week.
For the next goal - and you can help me here my dear readers - when we pass over the 100 followers mark, I will bump it up to two chapters a week. And another chapter for each 100 mark we pass until i run out of days i the week... Then we will move on to the world domination!
This story, and maybe others that will follow, are meant as an exercise for me. I will appreciate any and all feedback however harsh it may be :)