She wouldn’t walk again any time soon, Monica was certain of that as she laid flat on her stomach. The weight of her body pressed heavily upon her chest, squeezing her aching breasts against the floor. She wanted to stand, to try to lift herself up, but found she had no strength left.

Her body wouldn’t stop reeling from pain, pain that was somehow twisting into a bizarre form of pleasure. Whenever the lash broke her skin, the sting was like a blissful song of pure ecstasy. Whenever his overgrown penis slammed against the bottom of her womb, her fertile cove squeezed him even tighter. She could milk him all day, even if she passed out, her body would continue to react on its own. It was all instinctual now, hard coded into every fiber of her physical form. Nothing really mental was even necessary anymore for her body to enjoy being used.

It was a fate worse than death!

Each time Konrad, who was now something else, came inside her body, Monica could feel something changing. It was getting difficult to remember where she was, and how she had gotten here. Sometimes she had trouble remembering her own name! It was starting to become clear that with each mind altering orgasm, her mind was stripped of another frail layer of sanity.

Every muscle in her body wouldn’t stop seizing as she was crudely reprogrammed from some form of magic she had never experienced before. It was as if Konrad’s magical talents were supercharged, and his power of suggestion being used to alter her very sense of being and awareness through copious amounts of sex. As he was one with her, his power sank into her even deeper! Monica was powerless to resist!

Her legs wouldn’t stop twitching, pain shot through her knees and elbows where she had been forced to remain on all fours until all strength had left her. For hours Monica was used, her body drained from the vampires fangs, and her loins gushing until she had nothing left to give.

Lucy and Laura, or what used to be them, were gone now, likely in pursuit of the others.

Monica’s lower regions were numb after hours of pummeling. Konrad was relentless, absolutely monstrously relentless!

She was filled to the brim with his semen, her backside coated with his excess spurts. While Konrad was busy pumping her full, the thing that once was Mike forced her to gag on his own grotesque erection.

Each of their phallus’s were mutated almost beyond recognition. Each nearly ran the length of her forearm, and could spread her tight passages wide!

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Monica was just a cum bucket to these things, something to be used over and over again until her body gave out. Why she wasn’t changing, becoming akin to Laura and Lucy, Monica had no idea. Although, before her mind was destroyed, Monica couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with her time in the Redevers stockade pens. Did it do something to her that made these creatures not want to corrupt her? Was her body not compatible with whatever taint had changed them?

By the time they were finally done, she was left sprawling on the floor, unable to move, pure exhaustion clinging to her bones.

Corruption was flooding her veins, her womb felt as if it were on fire! She only hoped that Marci had gotten away. The Lamia was the only one who got away, running after seeing Mikes skin literally fall off his muscle, revealing new glossy layers of flesh, and what looked to be scales underneath. Marci retreated up an emergency stairwell, and shut the bulkhead behind her. Monica was glad she was able to buy her just enough time to escape.

After they got a hold of Konrad, infecting him with whatever spirits had possessed themselves, they had their way with her. And now she felt like dying here, alone, left to rot in what used to be a Redever warehouse deep in the bowls of the storm wrecked earth.

Monica’s eyes fluttered, she coughed up several goblets of creamy drool until her airway was fully open. Her gasps were shallow and sickly. She closed her eyes, hoping it would be the last time, and felt her heartbeat beginning to slow.

Sleep was a blessing, one she was happy to embrace, rather than face the horror that was this world. Her dreams were like swimming in a dark pool of tar, each movement sluggish and suffocating, and yet she swam towards a figure formed from the blackness. There was a compulsion drawing her forward.

A figure came into being. His tall broad frame eclipsed the sun, his eyes were bright as dawn, and he looked at her with…envy?

With a bony finger, the god of excess and murder reached out, and while Monica had never heard its name before, she somehow knew exactly what to call it.

Achlys.

When Monica opened her eyes she was no longer laying on the floor. She was sitting upright, her arms by her sides, and her head leaning back. Monica tasted blood on her tongue, and a harsh tang of copper along her gums.

She looked down and her eyes grew wide.

Her body was…reshaped.

Her torso was…elongated so that it could make room for two new sets of breasts. Her original pair were plump and heavy, the set just below them were much smaller, like two ripe plums. The final pair below them were barely larger than a pair of freshly plucked apples.

Her skin was a darker reddish tone, all her nipples a deep perky black. Her veins were thrumming with power, each heartbeat sent jolts of power through her reborn form.

Now get up, and kill them… The voice was both far away, and right up close against her ear. It was both kind and dreadful, and she loved the sound of it.

Monica swallowed, feeling power swell in her gut. She had never been gifted with magic before, but now…now she felt a whole new dimension revealing itself to her.

“Yes,” Monica was surprised by the sound of her own voice. It was sharper, like a razors edge. “My lord…”