LittleFallenPrincess

Here is the first chapter of my brand new story - Elysium! Just a heads up... the first chapter is kinda heavy. But it's needed. There will also be content warnings throughout the story, but I'll make sure to flag them whenever possible. Now... Elysium... This is what happens when I put a lot of myself into a story. Infernum and Arbitrio were the first ones where I put a lot of myself into it... but this one feels a lot more personal than any of my other stories, so I really hope you like it. It's also a lot longer than my usual stories (Probably aiming somewhere around the same length as Little in Love or Love in Dimensions). It's different in a lot of ways, so I hope you enjoy all the differences to my usual stories. I know this genre is a little overdone in our circles... but this is a story I needed to write. You'll see why as it goes on. Enjoy! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Especially when it comes to new stories! Chapter 1: The Edge Elysium – LittleFallenPrincess ------------------------------- Tw: Depression, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide ------------------------------- Just one more step. Just the tiniest bit of momentum. That was all that was needed. Was I being selfish doing this? Maybe. But it’s not like people will care for more than a week at most. They’ll get over the initial shock and go back to living their normal lives. I was always just a background character to their stories anyway. Always was. Always will be. At least since I lost Mum anyway. They’ll be like ‘Oh, did you hear about Noah? He jumped off the bridge and died. Such a shame. Had so much life to live.’ The same useless shit people say whenever someone dies. Everyone says the same rubbish especially whenever someone kills themself. That ‘they wish they had seen the signs’, ‘wish they had done something’, ‘they were struggling’, ‘at least they’re not suffering anymore’… and it’s all bullshit. They don’t care. They just feel bad that they didn’t give enough of a fuck about someone who was struggling to do anything before it was too late. It takes the tiniest amount of effort to reach out to someone struggling like this, but none of them can be bothered. I bet they’ll say the same things about me. But I think I gave them enough signs. If they can’t read them… that’s their fault. I pretty much plastered them on the walls in bright red paint in all caps… but they were still oblivious to the message. Even if they did read them though… At this point, when I’ve reached rock bottom… what could actually help me at this point? Therapy? Ha… sure… I’ve tried like four different therapists and not one of them could help me. Meds? Doc won’t prescribe anything else because nothing seems to be working. Mental hospital? I’d rather di-... yeah… that’s why I’m here on this ledge… I stared out at the empty road below. Thankfully… no traffic this late at night. No one’s oncoming car to accidentally fall onto. Which is good, because I already feel pretty fucking guilty for ruining the day of whoever finds me… But hey, at that point I won’t have to worry, I won’t be around. Part of me worried that maybe this isn’t high enough. Because I had heard somewhere that people had survived large drops… and if I do take that final step, I want it to be exactly that… final. I don’t want to survive it. That will just lead to… complications. Locked away for a while ‘for my own safety’. The thought of that sends a wave of terror through my whole body. One of my biggest fears is being locked away, unable to escape. It’s why I’ve put this off for so long. I could’ve attempted something before… but I was worried of failing and what would happen if I did so. But now I’ve reached absolute rock bottom and I’m like 99% sure I’m done with this life now. So as my foot hovered over the large drop in front of me, my hands tightly gripping the railing behind me, balancing precariously on the edge of the bridge… I tried to mentally prepare myself. It wasn’t too late to back down though. No one would know… it’s the dead of night. There are no cars, no people… it’s a quiet little English town after all. And I picked this spot in particular so that no one could stop me, that there would be no-one around to stop me. But if I backed out… I could just go home, and no one would have any knowledge of what I planned to do. Which means no-one is doing anything drastic to keep me safe that would end up with me getting much worse. No… I’m ready. I’ve contemplated this for years. Even before I lost my Mum in my teens. Even before I told my Dad about all that stuff… before he kicked me out. I was always depressed. Always wanted to stop existing. It was never a ‘I want to die’, it was more of a ‘I don’t want to exist’, or ‘wish I had never been born at all’. Now it’s different, of course, I mean it’s why I’m balancing here on the edge of a bridge. It wasn’t all bad though. I loved my childhood. Mum made it special. She was my support… my best friend. I loved her so fucking much. Then… she was just gone. Dead. And I was left with Dad. That’s when it all went downhill. Grades slipped, Dad got aggressive. Never violent, but definitely more aggressive. You could tell he didn’t love me the way Mum did. I was just this dumb kid of his, some failure of a son. And he loved to remind me. Then when I told him about all the things going on with my life… he reacted a lot worse than I’d hoped. Kicked me out. Haven’t talked to him in years, but hey, good riddance I say. Mum hated him anyway, it’s why they separated when I was very little. When I had to move in with Dad after Mum died… I think another little piece of my soul died. I’m still surprised I got into university despite all that. Barely scraped through too, earning myself a useless degree that may have actually hindered my job prospects afterwards. So my education was ruined, as was any job I worked after I left Uni, as were all my relationships. Relationships… Ugh, this is the worst timing for me doing this, isn’t it? So close after Abigail broke up with me. She’s… she’s going to blame herself for this. Sure, she broke my heart into a billion tiny pieces, but she didn’t push me over the edge. Even if she did turn all our friends against me. No, I was ready for this for a long time, even back when we were dating. I just didn’t want to hurt her. And now look at me… I liked her. A lot. But I was always holding myself back with her, keeping a large part of myself locked away in fear of how she’d react. Hell, pretty sure that’s part of the reason she broke up with me. She said I was always so ‘mopey’... which she’s not wrong about, but I think she knew I was bottling things up around her, keeping her from seeing what was going on with me. She always had this big plan. She wanted me to propose soon, then we would get married, have kids… typical heteronormative crap you see on TV, with me as the loving husband who comes home after a busy day at the office. White picket fence and all that. But I didn’t want that. Well no, that’s not entirely true, I like the idea of it… but it wasn’t… me. I’m not that kind of guy. I’m not even… No, but anyway, I wasn’t right for her, she deserves her dream. So I’m glad she broke up with me. She deserves better. I just hope she doesn’t blame herself for what I’m about to do. No. I’m ready. One final breath. One final step. One final thought. Better make it a good one. …Nope. Can’t think of anything. Mind is racing too much to pin a thought down. Ah well, go out the same way I came in, eh? And with that last deep breath, I released my tight grip on the guard rail, the blood rushing back into them after they had turned white just moments ago. Momentum took over. It was out of my hands now. A stillness radiated my entire body. I was ready. This was actually happening. This is it. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YE’ DOING?” Something that felt like talons dug themselves into my shoulders, gripping tightly onto my shirt, and yanked me backwards back over the guard rail, tossing me like a ragdoll onto the pavement behind me. I crashed onto the pavement with my arse taking the brunt of the impact. Then my mind and thoughts rushed back, realising I wasn’t dead. “I…” Everything was spinning. I couldn’t focus or think. I had been at peace, ready to end it all, but then something, or someone, came along and literally yanked me from my fate, and now my mind was trying to catch up with my situation. “Hun… were you seriously about to do what I think you were about to do?” came a soothing voice, from who I assumed was the woman who just prevented me from doing something very stupid. At least I assumed it was a woman from what her voice sounded like, with the slightest twinge of a Scottish accent in there. Though it must have been some woman to have been able to throw me back over that guard rail… “I…” Adrenaline was coursing through my body, and I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to admit the truth, lie, or simply just run away. My vision was blurry and I couldn’t focus. All I could hear was this soothing voice. So I couldn’t even put a face to it. “Sweetie… are you okay?” she said, crouching down in front of me. “I… umm… I’ll get back to you on that one…” I replied, finally managing a full sentence. “Hopefully sooner, rather than later… because you were one second from ending up as paste on the road below!” It was weird hearing such a lovely, almost maternal voice form such crude imagery, but it made me laugh a bit. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “Paste…” “Is your head okay? I didn’t knock it too hard, did I?” “No… I…” My vision started clearing as I looked up at who would normally be called a ‘saviour’ in this situation, though right now… I saw her as more of a hindrance to my overall goal. Freckles. That was the first thing I noticed. Well that and the very red hair. Like… proper ginger. She couldn’t look more stereotypically Scottish if she tried. Her voice definitely matched her appearance, dressed in jeans and a simple amethyst-coloured blouse under her black denim jacket. “Good. Because sometimes I don’t know my own strength. Now… are you going to tell me your name first?” “N… Noah.” “Well N-Noah,” she replied, imitating my stutter, “Care to tell me what you were about to do?” “I think that… is pretty obvious,” I replied, smiling awkwardly. “I guess it is. And why in the world would you do something like that?” “Because…” “‘Because’? Just ‘because’? Oh come on, sweetie… give me a better reason than that!” It was always hard to tell people this. To admit what I want. “I… want… I mean… I don’t want to be here anymore…” “And why is that? Did something happen?” “No. I mean yes. But I… I’ve been wanting this for a long time. Please. Just let me go. You shouldn’t stop me…” That’s when she took my hands into hers. “Sweetie, I’m not going to let you do anything drastic right now. You’re not in the best place, and I’m here to help, okay?” She sounded so… genuinely nice? Like sweetness personified. Even her words in her soft spoken accent made me instantly drop my guard around her. Which somewhat scared me… I nearly always have my guard up. “I… don’t think you can help.” “Try me.” “No. I… I don’t want…” “...To bother me? Shush. Now tell me, precious, what happened to cause such a little cutie like you to take the most drastic action he could possibly take?” I really don’t know what it is about this woman. She… she melts away whatever protection I had guarded myself with. Her voice, her mannerisms, that cute freckled face of hers… “Come on, petal…” “I… don’t even know your name…” “Ceres,” she replied, smiling down at me. “That’s a very… unique name.” “Well I’ll take that as a compliment then, but only because you’re cute,” as she said this, she sat down in front of me, not letting go of my hands as she parked herself on the cold pavement below. “I’m… not…” “Not cute? Lies. Look at you. I bet your girlfriend is all over you.” “D… don’t have one…” “You don’t? Well sorry, sweetie, but I find that hard to believe.” “I’m too depressed for her,” I replied, hanging my head in shame, trying to look anywhere but at her face. “Her? So there was someone? Is this what it’s all about?” “No. Yes. I mean… part of it.” “Then tell me more.” “It’s just… I’ve felt like this for a long time. Since…” “Since what?” “Since I lost my Mum,” I sighed. She went silent for a second. “Ah. Yes. I know how much that hurts. No Dad to help?” “No. He… didn’t like who I was growing up to be. I wasn’t his clone, so he didn’t care. I was always too much like my Mum.” She squeezed my hand, causing me to look up into her beautiful green eyes. “Oh sweetie. I understand your pain. But that doesn’t mean you go taking a step onto the motorway below like that. Are you in therapy? Missed your meds?” “None of it works. Tried it all.” She looked at me, no smile on her face anymore. As if she was trying really hard to read me. She was thinking about something, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was that was going on in that head of hers. “Right. Come on. Come with me.” Okay… I wasn’t expecting that. But hey, as long as she doesn’t call the police or for an ambulance… maybe I can get away with just slinking off home once she’s given me a talking to, and no-one in my life will be aware of what nearly went down tonight. “I… okay…” “Good boy. Let’s go sit on a bench and you can talk about what’s bothering you. Spare no details.” ------------------------------- “So depression, dead end job, no girlfriend, bad degree, shit dad, lost your Mum, facing homelessness, and nothing the doctors are trying is working? Is that everything?” “That… is pretty much it,” I replied, shrugging at her, not knowing what else to say. Ceres had found a nice little bench in the nearby park. It was just as dead as the bridge was, probably due to it being like… 3am. She had sat me down, wrapped her jacket around me (as I had been stupid enough to come out wearing just my t-shirt and jeans. Sure, it’s only the start of September, but it’s still pretty bloody cold at 3am in the UK, no matter what time of year it is), and barely released my hands from hers the entire time. I hesitated at first. I didn’t want to go and bother this complete stranger with all my issues, even if she had just technically saved my life. Despite wishing she hadn’t done so. But something about this woman, who looked not much older than 30, made me feel so… safe… that I eventually just blurted out everything, just one big stream of consciousness. I was worried maybe I had overwhelmed her, but clearly with her little summary… she had listened to everything. Not that I told her everything. There’s some stuff that I’m not even able to talk to myself about, let alone a cute stranger who just prevented me from ‘becoming paste on the road’. “Right. Well whilst I can see why you’d want to do what you were about to do… I still think you’re an idiot for attempting it.” “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be all nice and reassuring? ‘Idiot’ isn’t very nice, is it?” I asked, smiling cheekily at her, the first smile I had managed since she saved me. “Excuse me…” she said, trying her best to hold in her laugh, the one you could clearly see bubbling at the surface. “I’m very good at what I do. Not my fault some cute idiot decided to do something stupid and change my plans…” That’s when a wave of guilt hit me. The one I had hoped to have missed… after I had done the deed. “I… oh… sorry…” I replied, hanging my head in shame. “Oh shush. I was only on my way home from work.” “Still… sorry. You should be home right now.” “No, Noah… none of that bullshit with me, okay? You were in a low place, I understand that. Hell, I understand getting to the point where you’re teetering over the edge… but I will not have you putting yourself down just for slightly inconveniencing me. I’m just happy I got to stop you before you became vulture-chow.” “We don’t get vultures in England…” “And apparently you also don’t get jokes…” she said, nudging me playfully. “Sorry…” “What did I just tell you?” “S-... ah… yeah… Fine. No more apologies. For now,” I replied, pouting slightly at this cute girl. “Good boy.” Shivers ran through my body when she said those two words. And for a moment there… I swear she could tell. But it wasn’t good shivers. It wasn’t bad. It was like… a mix of both? “Now, sweetie. I’m a bit worried about leaving you alone right now. Have you got anyone you can call?” “No,” I snapped back at her, maybe a little too quickly. “No one?” “I… no. Sorry. I’ll be fine, you can just let me go home.” “Via the motorway?” she replied, pointing in the direction of where I had nearly jumped. “Oh I don’t think so, sweetie.” “I’ll be fine…” I groaned. “Look, I’ll give you my number. If you need someone to talk to, or have a drink or something, you just call me, okay? You’re not a bother. And I want you to be okay. You’re a cute guy.” I grumbled a bit, before she finally released her hands, reaching into her shoulder bag with both of them, before pulling her phone out with one of them. “Right, come here. I’m giving you the biggest hug ever. That way you’ll want another one, and be a lot less likely to go stepping off bridges…” Hey, I wasn’t going to argue with this woman. First off, she’s cute. Secondly… she gives off this vibe of ‘do as I say, or you’ll regret it’. Thirdly… I was still calming down after everything, so if I was going to try this again… I’d need a few days, I think, to get my head back to normal. And fourthly… and most importantly… she hadn’t called anyone. She hadn’t called the police. Hadn’t called to get me locked away for my own safety. She was just… letting me go. This was the best thing that could have happened once she saved me, and I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As I stood up, she held out her arms, creating an opening for me to hug her. Slowly shuffling forward, I got closer and closer until she took the lead and stepped forward, wrapping her rather strong arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I wrapped mine around her waist and embraced the hug. With my head pressed against her chest like this, this hug felt like the best thing in the world right now. The best thing I had experienced in years. I felt all the sadness I tried bottling up, all the anger, all the pain, everything… come rushing forward, flooding my body with emotion. I began to cry into her shoulder. “There there, Noah, let it all out. You’ve had a stressful life from the sounds of it. Just let it all out. Forget about it. You don’t have to be big and strong with me.” Her words, along with the soft, comforting accent of hers… made me feel smaller than ever. Even as she stroked my blonde hair, which must have come untied from the ponytail earlier, I felt smaller than ever, despite her only being a couple of inches taller than me. And I’m 5’9! Yet I felt two feet tall compared to this woman somehow. “I… sorry I’m such a mess. You… you shouldn’t have to comfort me like this.” She squeezed me tighter, then moved her mouth closer to my ear. “Sweetie, I am so glad I ran into you tonight. I think fate brought us together. Because I think I can help you.” A small little pinch. In my upper arm. That’s all that was felt before the world… and my body… got really heavy. Before the world started spinning. Before everything felt… almost good for once. And then… the lights went out. ====================================================== Sorry for the really heavy start to this story. I promise you it gets easier. It's a very emotional story, and may have some darker moments like this. But I promise you, it's worth it. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, despite this! Like I said... I put a lot more of myself into this story... Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Epilogue Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “That was lame!” “I thought it was cute. Though I wasn’t happy we lost.” “Where were the fights? We had like… barely any!” “Why’d I get picked off first? I got no chance to shine!” “I like how you worked in my patron. Though I wish I had made it further.” “I hate this stupid outfit.” “I… well… I thought it was good… though a bit weird… and… umm…” “Of course you thought it was good! You got to actually fight! And you made it all the way to the top!” Lauren whined, in her typical bitchy way. Lauren. Otherwise known as Isolde, the human bard. Well known in the community as a bit of a backstabber. Does look fantastic in latex though. “Yes, but she ended up in… that outfit…” Emma replied, pointing and laughing at Zoey, who didn’t reply, she just blushed and tried to hide her face. “I think she got it way worse than any of us…” Emma. Otherwise known as Herta, the dwarf ranger. Very loud, very vocal woman who seemed to really get into her role. “Including ME?” Thomas snapped, pointing at the maid dress he was currently wearing, much to his chagrin. Thomas. Otherwise known as Magnus, the human Paladin. Overconfident, eager, one of those guys who thinks he’s always right. “Yes! Including you! At least you have clothes!” Amanda said, still trying her best to cover her breasts with one of her arms, using the other to point at Emma, who sat across the table from her, who was in a similar predicament, being completely naked like Amanda was. Amanda. Otherwise known as Aurelia, the tiefling warlock. Actually one of my best friends. Had a bit of a crush on her for a while, and she’s had one on me… but we’ve never done anything about it, hence why I invited her, to finally see if anything would happen between us. “Yeah, Thomas and Lauren got off easy… they got actual clothes. Kinky clothes… sure… but at least they got clothes! And hey, I think I got off worse! I’m the only one who couldn’t EVEN ROLL THEIR DICE!” Kai replied as they struggled about, trying to use their arms but failing due to the tight bondage rope constraining them. Kai. Otherwise known as Thistle, the half-elf druid. Enby. Really cool. Really kinky. Loves to get high. Been to a few events with them. “Yeah, they’ve got a point there…” Freddie added. “I just look… ridiculous…” Freddie. Otherwise known as Vico, the halfling barbarian. Up for anything. Head as empty as his counterpart. But he’s always a lot of fun. “But you’re so cute as a little doll!” Zoey replied, smiling at Freddie, before taking the dummy out of her mouth, giggling the whole time. “MY little stuffie!” Zoey. Otherwise known as Serrill, the elf cleric. Shy, timid, very anxious trans girl. New to the community, invited by Amanda, apparently they’re old friends. She… is a lot cuter than I expected… As I watched my players… though some may call them victims… I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Sure, maybe some of them weren’t happy with their character’s fates, but I did warn them. I told them at the start… this may or may not be ‘fair’. I told them that if they wanted to win… they’d have to potentially endure some humiliating things both in game and out of it. But hey, I was hoping that maybe… just maybe… I could open up some hidden kinks they never knew they had. And sure, I missed the mark on some, but I definitely hit the nail on the head with others. And it seems like that no matter what they say… They all had fun tonight. “So… Lily… seeing as no one ‘won’…” Emma interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to the tabletop. “Sorry, that means no one gets the prize,” I replied, shrugging. Most of the table was in uproar. I’ve been playing the ‘Mistress’ for a while now. It’s a little game and competition I set up, based on the familiar tabletop roleplaying game that has become more and more popular over the years. I play the Mistress, a demonic queen looking for her true love… kidnapping people to try and find them. When in reality… I’m just a nerdy domme with way too much time on her hands, and an abundance of nerdy subs willing to play my game just to win a date with me. I’m just your average, nerdy, very kinky, mid-thirties domme. I have a boring job outside of this community, and I, like the rest of my players, look just like my character (Though I do put a bit more flair into the Mistress. I wish I could be as stylish as her, I only dress up for kink events… most of the time I’m just wearing pyjama bottoms and a camisole). Yes, these seven were all hoping to win a date with me. I promised them that if they made it to the top of the Spire in my game, then defeated the Mistress without being corrupted too far… whoever is still standing wins a date with me. Where things go after that… well that’s up to fate. I may end up dating one of them, or I may date a couple of them… it’s purely based on if I’m genuinely interested in them after the dates. This game is purely for a shot at getting a date with me. After that, it’s all down to how well we connect whether or not I enter into a relationship with them. Though really… in a way, this game is like a first date. You see… I find you can learn a lot about a person by the way they play. Some play to win. Others love the roleplay. Some can stab friends in the back, just to make sure there is less competition if they defeat the Mistress. Because if your group makes it up as a whole and defeats the Mistress somehow, you all get to take me on a date, which means more competition. It’s an interesting setup that brings out a lot in people. And it tells me a lot about the kind of person they are, even if they don’t realise it. But no one ever defeats the Mistress. I’ve played this countless times before with a lot of groups. It’s become a bit of a challenge within our little kinky community actually, which I’m… quite proud of. That’s why I put all my previous players’ characters into the game. They all failed trying to win a date with me, now their characters are immortalised within my Spire. And it’s not like it’s any old normal roleplaying tabletop game. I’m a domme, of course I’m going to make it kinky as hell! I put most of my own kinks into it, with a couple extra just to keep people guessing as to what mine actually are. Though they’re always surprised when it comes to the Nursery… no one expects me to be into ageplay. Which hurts really, as it’s what I desire most… to be a Mummy to someone. I do warn them, before they even join, that whatever happens to your character… happens to you. You get turned into a puppy by the Houndmaster like Emma did? Emma spent the rest of the game barking like a dog, completely naked with only a collar on, just like her character. You get turned into a maidservant by the creepy Mimic? You’re wearing the sluttiest, skimpiest maid outfit I have, the one Thomas is currently wearing. And I don’t care what gender you are. You’re wearing the dress. You get tied up by the Dryad like Kai did? Clothes off whilst I grab the rope. Good luck trying to roll the dice when you can’t move. You submit to the Succubus? Wrist and ankle cuffs are locked on, clothes off. Though it was fun getting to set up Amanda’s warlock patron like that. I like to add special personal touches like that to my games. You fall to the Satyr, becoming his helpless, brainless bimbo? I have the cutest little latex dress for you… make sure to put this lipgloss on to make your lips even more luscious like Lauren’s currently are! Or does the Nanny turn you into a little dolly? I have a bunch of cute dresses and some babyish stuff waiting for you, just like Freddie is wearing, with his cute little yellow babydoll dress and his over-the-top doll makeup. And they have to stay like this for the rest of the night, until it’s time to go home… or until they safeword. Sometimes I have some fun with them afterwards, despite them never winning a date with me. I want them to have enjoyed their experience, even if they had no chance of winning. No one ever wins though. All those puppy girls and toys and other ‘victims’ their characters came across? All previous group’s characters that I’ve carried over. Sometimes I mix up the Lords, I take out some kinks and put some others in, so no one can predict what will happen, and I tend to cater them to the players, trying to get them to try new kinks I think they’d like. Like I said, it doesn't always work. I'm not a mind reader, but I have a pretty good read on people. Sometimes I awaken new kinks, sometimes I really miss the mark. Though I’m proud to say the majority either were into what I picked or discovered it was a new kink of theirs. But the Nanny and the Mistress? Always the same, always present at the end, I never sub them out. But no one has ever gotten past the Nanny. Except Zoey… “Zoey…” I said, cutting everyone off as they continued to talk excitedly about the game they had just taken part of. As they all looked at me, the room went silent. “Do you need a change?” I asked. She looked at me, panic in her eyes, her cheeks quickly turning red. “I… umm…” “Come with me, little one…” I held out my hand, allowing the girl to grab it, before I stood up from the table, abandoning my rule book and all my notes and stuff… to escort this timid little girl into my bedroom. “Be good, you lot. I’ll be back soon,” I warned them. I may play games on the table… but I do not play games as a domme, and they know my reputation. So they all backed down and nodded, obediently reducing their noise levels to a more acceptable level as they continued to discuss the game… and giggle at their friend’s fate. Leading Zoey into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, I nervously stared at the door, avoiding turning around. I knew that if I looked at her… I… Then she broke the silence. “I… was… was I okay? I’ve… umm… never played anything like this before… and… umm…” My concern for her outweighed my nervousness. So I quickly turned around, finding myself stunned at just how damn cute she was. Wearing the same blue frilly babyish dress and matching nappy cover that her character was fated to wear… with a thick, probably wet, nappy on underneath it… she just looked… perfect. She was better than perfect. She was beautiful. And adorable. And everything in between. I know I didn’t let her win. I should have. But, like I said as the Mistress… I have an image to maintain. But seeing her now… like this… I knew I’d have to let that facade go. I knew I’d have to make an exception. “Sweetie, you were brilliant! You did such a good job! You were such a good girl!” I said, trying to ease her nerves. “More importantly… Did you have fun?” “I mean… despite not winning… yeah, I did.” I wanted so desperately to ask her something… so I took a risk. “Were you hoping to win?” “I…. yeah…” she replied, nervously, her cheeks turning red as she stared at her feet. “What about your character’s fate? I’m guessing you hated it.” “I mean… it was better than the others. I… never even considered ageplay. Like I said, I’m kinda new to everything… so I’ve not really tried much.” “So what do you think about what you’re wearing? Do you like it?” “I… it’s comfortable… and… umm…” I could sense it in her from the start. It’s why I sent the monster out to get her character in the Dormant Vale. It’s why I let her join the game in the first place. Something about this girl… it’s like I could sense there was a little in there… somewhere… even if she didn’t know it. Especially from what Amanda has told me about her. Honestly… the more she told me about this girl, I felt like Amanda was trying to set me up with her from the start. “Use your words, sweetpea…” That just made her blush even more, as she continued to look down at the floor. So I used this opportunity to reach out, putting my free hand under her chin, cupping it gently, and lifting it so she was looking me in the eyes. “I… sorta… feel… cute… maybe…” “Is this something you’d be willing to try more?” I asked, softly. “I… maybe… Amanda did say you were good at bringing out people’s hidden desires…” Zoey replied, blushing more and moving her head to the side so she could continue staring at the floor. “I bet you’re soaked after all those drinks…” I said, pushing it a bit further, getting closer to her… wanting so badly to just… kiss her… but knowing I shouldn’t. So with my free hand, my other still holding hers… I reached down and stuck a finger into the side of her nappy. “You are soaked!” “I… sorry!” she squealed, sounding nervous, finally looking up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers. “Oh baby… no, you’re such a good girl for doing that! I did say you didn’t have to wet it, that that part was entirely optional… but you’re such an eager little girl, aren’t you?” “I… wanted to please you… and… umm… I kinda wanted to see what it felt like…” “And? How did it feel?” “I… umm… umm…. umm…” she mumbled a bit until I stared at her, raising my eyebrow. “I… liked it.” “Does the baby want Mummy to change her nappy?” “Umm… maybe… but… I didn’t win.” “And?” “So… you’re not my Mummy…” she sighed. I looked the timid, anxious girl in the eyes, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek with my hand. Screw my rules. Screw my reputation. Screw my ‘image’. If I didn’t ask this girl out right now, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. “Do you want me to be?” ------------------- One Month Later ------------------- “You really think so?” I asked Zoey, as she sat in my lap, snuggled up against me, her thickly padded bum resting on my legs, sucking her dummy as we both watched the latest cutesy Princess movie. I had never been happier, this girl brought so much warmth back into my heart since we started dating. She barely leaves my house now, she’s practically moved in at this point. And we’re slowly going through my long list of kinks… “Yeah!” she replied, looking adorable as ever, with her smile that could warm even my cold, sadistic heart. “Are you okay with that though?” I asked, concerned. “Having a Mummy and a Nanny? Yes! Plus… she’s cute. And totally into you.” “But it was obvious she was setting us up. I think she’s a pretty good matchmaker by the way…” “Yeah buh… the way she looks at you… talks to you… and the way you do the same to her… it’s clear you two are into each other. And I know she’s poly… and single…” “Sweetie, I think you’re reading too much into it.” “And then… and… and… and you saw how she was, how she looked after Serrill… she was super maternal…” “You two had great chemistry, I will admit. At first I thought maybe she’d want to date you, which confused me as to why she’d agreed to play in the first place. And then you two bounced off each other really well during the game. And she was good at looking after my little baby in the game…” “Seriously. The way she looks at you. And at me. I swear there’s some interest there, in both of us. I think she was just setting us up because we fit really well together. And you and her are both dommes… or at least she mostly is. I think. Which is difficult with two dommes. But you have a sub now! Me! And I bet she’d be super duper excited to be with us both…” “Sweetie, that’s just like my game… it’s fantasy…” “Oh come on… She’s been all mopey at events since we got together. I still think she brought me along to the game so we could win… together.” “Look, if I ask her out for the both of us, if I ask her to be our girlfriend and to be your Nanny… will you drop it? If she says no, we leave it at that and move on, okay?” Zoey began excitedly bouncing up and down on my lap, waving her hands just like a little toddler who had been told they could get a new stuffie. “Yes Mama! Maybe she says no, maybe she just wants to be Nanny and play with us occasionally… I mean she has offered to babysit… WHICH IS ANOTHER SIGN! But yes, whatever she picks, I think we should try… WAIT!” “What is it, sweetpea?” Zoey grinned at me. She had clearly come up with something clever. “...Why don’t you design a new campaign just for her?” ====================================================== Oh? Whats that? The story is over? It wasn't 40 chapters? Oh no... *giggles* I knew you'd all be thinking they'd be saved in the last few chapters. But did you see this coming? Did you enjoy the comparison to the first chapter? I hope you've all enjoyed Spire of Submission. It was a lot of fun to write, and maybe I'll write a sequel in the future (after many other planned stories though). Please leave your comments about this story, I'd love to know what you all thought of it, especially the ending, but the entire story as a whole. And don't worry, that doesn't mean no more story. Just means new story on Wednesday! And its a good one. One that's very close to my heart. And one where I put a lot more of myself into it. The first chapter is very heavy, but I'll leave trigger warnings in the headers of each chapter in which they're needed. So far my subscribers are enjoying it, I hope you all do too! Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 37: Freedom Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess Wandering the cold, dark passageways of the Spire, Serrill had no idea where she was going. This all felt familiar to her, but she couldn’t place where abouts in the Spire she was now. She’d been wandering for a while now, waking up in a random part of the Spire after the incident in the throne room. Her head was a little fuzzy after the explosion… one that she had caused… but it was getting clearer, albeit very slowly. For now, she just knew that if she carried on, she’d eventually find her friends… Despite her head being fuzzy, she could tell the back of her nappy was full, after that last spell of hers ruined her potty training completely. So if she could get a change sometime soon… that would be great. But no, if she just continued, she’d find her friends… and everything would be better. And as she turned a corner in this dark, dank corridor, a familiar door stood in front of them. Which, once opened, revealed a very familiar room… ‘How… How did I end up back on the ground floor? This is… this is the Houn… Houn… Houndmaster… Houndmaster’s lair…’ she thought to herself, her foggy brain making it hard to think. Then as she looked around, a familiar figure began walking up to her, with the biggest smile on his face… “Hello, little one!” the Houndmaster said, reaching out and grabbing the cleric’s hand, shaking it gently. “I guess you’re the new Princess of this Spire…” “This, little one, is Octavius… say hello to Uncle Octavius!” the Mistress said, bouncing the infantilised cleric on her hip effortlessly, as if the elf weighed nothing. “Hewwo Unky Occy!” Serrill replied, waving at the Houndmaster, who was now pulling funny faces at the infantilised cleric. “She’s an absolute delight!” Octavius smiled and turned to his Master. “Isn’t she just? I’ve been waiting so long for my perfect little girl, and now I have her,” the Mistress replied, kissing the cleric on the forehead, making the elf blush and suckle on her dummy even harder. “So are we stopping the games?” “I mean… we originally just took people to find me my perfect little one… but then again… I can’t disappoint my favourite subjects…” the Mistress grinned. “Don’t worry, give it ten years and maybe we’ll take in a new batch. Though this time you’ll all make sure none reach my baby girl at the top… unless she needs new toys by then, of course.” “Understood, Mistress. She’s part of the family now. They all are…” “And how is your new pup?” “Needs a bit of training, but don’t worry, I’ll break her in. Was nice to receive a ranger this time too, I got a loyal and faithful dog out of it at the same time.” “Can she see her friend?” the Mistress asked, nodding towards the elf being bounced on her hip. “Sure! I don’t see why not, I think both of them would love it.” Octavius wandered over to a nearby kennel and knocked on the top of the wooden roof. “Herta…” he growled. Suddenly a dwarf shot out of the kennel door, running around the Houndmaster’s legs repeatedly until she finally came to a standstill by his side, sitting patiently. “Good girl…” the Houndmaster said as he handed her a little treat, one she happily took and gobbled up in seconds. “Herta… remember little Serrill?” “ARF!” Herta said, wandering slowly over to the Mistress, who bent down so Serrill and Herta could be close to each other. Serrill reached out, patting the puppy-fied dwarf on the head, before giggling and retracting her hand. “I think she’ll make a fine addition to the Spire,” the Mistress said, as she stood back up. “Is there anything else you need?” “No Ma’am. I’ll let you know if I do. Thank you again for gifting me this pup.” “Oh please, we all know that you corrupting them instantly marks them as yours. I just hand them out at the end. It’d be weird if I gave you the maid or the bimbo, or if I gave the pup to Nanny…” “Still, thank you anyway.” “You’re welcome, Octavius. Now… I better get going, this is going to be a long walk back up to her nursery.” “Are they still rebuilding the throne room?” “Oh yes. This little one has quite the destructive nature… she’ll fit in perfectly here. Honestly… I’m not even angry with her for destroying most of my throne room, I’m actually impressed by the power she has. And maybe… if I ever let her grow up again… I’ll teach her how to wield it properly, unlike that silly god of hers.” “Well you resurrected us quickly, and you’ve got a long walk up, so I’m sure the throne room will be repaired by the time you get back up there.” “I’m sure you’re right. Now, we better get going. Enjoy your new pup, Octavius. Serrill? Say bye bye to Uncle Octavius.” “BYE BYE!” Serrill shouted, excitedly, waving excitedly at the Houndmaster as they left. “Marco, how’s the new maidservant?” the Mistress asked the large chest on the second floor. “Mistress… how lovely to see you. I see the cleric worked out in the end! Shame… I thought she’d look adorable in one of my staff uniforms…” the mimic replied, it’s wood warping to form a creepy grin. “Maybe I’ll need to borrow one of your uniforms for some fun sometime…” the Mistress grinned, eyeing her babygirl up as she did so. “Just say the word, Mistress. As for Miss Magnus, he’s doing just fine. Very hard worker, one of my best actually!” “May we see him? I figured whilst I check in on you all after your resurrections, that little Serrill would get to see her friends. That way she knows they’re being well taken care of.” “I wish I could, Mistress, but Miss Magnus is up in your throne room, helping with the restoration.” “Oh, that’s okay then. I’ll probably see him when I get there. How are you doing anyway, after the resurrection. It was a… particularly brutal death this time.” “I’m used to it by now. I know my role, Mistress. I pick off one of the more selfish ones, and then the rest make their way past me. But you always reward me with whomever I pick, so I’m happy still. That warlock though… I hope she’s getting her just desserts for what she did to me?” “She is, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re doing okay though, Marco. I do need to get going though, I’ve got the rest of the Lords to check in on before I put this little one down for her nap,” the Mistress said, bouncing a blushy Serrill on her hip still. “Then don’t let me keep you, Mistress.” The Mistress smiled and nodded at Marco, before walking off in the direction of the next floor, planting a little kiss on her baby’s forehead, making her blush even more. “Willoa. How’s the forest?” the Mistress asked as she looked around the ruined forest, most of it burnt to ashes. Little sprouts of green were dotted all over the place though, indicating some amount of regrowth at least. “Healing. Though not as quickly as you healed me… at least the druid make a pretty ornament for my garden,” the dryad replied as she walked up to the Demon Queen, sounding pissed off, pointing at a still-very-bound Thistle in the background. “I’ll come down and help you once I’ve checked in with everyone and put this little one down for a nap. That way it’ll be back to its normal self in no time.” “So…?” the dryad trailed off, expecting some kind of answer to a question she never actually asked. “So… what?” the Mistress replied, confused. “Is she worth it then? Was she worth the wait?” the Dryad smiled at her Mistress, hoping for a positive reply. “Oh yes. I mean look at her! She’s just the cutest widdle angel!” “She is cute… maybe you two should come down once the forest has regrown, maybe have a picnic or something? She can play in the grass, it can’t be good for her to be cooped up in that nursery all the time.” “I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll sort something out with the Nanny, maybe I could bring some of her friends to visit too…” “Fair warning though, Mistress…” the Dryad replied. “This little one is owed a spanking from me after what she did to both me… and the forest.” “I think that’s fair. Though nothing too hard, she’s my little Princess after all…” the Mistress smiled down at her regressed cleric. “Lilith!” the Succubus cried out as she ran over to the Mistress, hugging her tightly. Serrill was a bit confused, the other Lords seemed to have a strict code of conduct in how they speak to her Mummy. It was always ‘Mistress’ and ‘Your Highness’... always bowing and never being too friendly with her… but this Succubus that she fought before… she seemed to be on a first name basis with her Mummy, and close enough friends that she was even allowed to hug the woman! “Rissea… darling… how are you?” the Mistress replied, hugging the Succubus back, being extra careful not to drop Serrill or squeeze the poor girl between the two women. “Happy now you brought my Aurelia to me!” “Hey, you’re the one who has been pushing her to accept this quest, to venture here in the first place. And it’s you who thought my little Serrill would be the perfect one… for that, I have to thank you.” “Lilith… shush. We both got our girls. That’s all that matters. How is the little one anyway?” “Perfect, as you expected. And how is your tiefling?” “She’s even more fun than she was when we had our pact. It’s extremely fun opening up all those hidden desires of hers. I don’t want to speak badly of my previous subs… but this one is special.” “I can see that. Honestly… if you didn’t already claim her, I would’ve claimed her too… maybe as a Nanny or a babysitter… she was so good with my little Serrill, looking after her, checking her soggy widdle nappies…” the Mistress trailed off, making Serrill blush. “Where is Aurelia anyway?” “She’s currently a bit… ‘tied up’, sadly. And regarding your proposition… I’m sure I could spare her on occasion, if you’d like her to be a babysitter or something…” “But…” the Mistress replied, raising her eyebrow at the other demon. “There’s always a ‘but’ with you…” “You have to let me have some fun with your little one, whenever she’s not regressed.” “I think we could easily come to some kind of arrangement…” “Zet…” If looks could kill, the Mistress would have disintegrated the Satyr in front of her, the one with his leg up on the arm of his chair, with a bimbo-fied Isolde bouncing on the other chair arm, giggling. “Lily…” the Satyr replied, grinning up at the unimpressed Mistress. “I told you not to call me th-” “How’s it hanging?” “I… no, I can’t. Fuck this,” the Mistress flicked her black hair backwards before whispering down to her little one. “Your friend sucks anyway, you’re better off without her…” And with that, the Mistress stormed off, holding Serrill close, as she began to come up with ways to fuck over the only Lord that caused her any grief. “There she is! There’s the little Princess!” the ghostly Nanny said, holding the familiar Vico stuffie in her hands as she rushed over to the Mummy and her babygirl, now that they had finally reached the Nursery floor. “Oh Elvire… I can’t believe it’s finally happening!” replied the Mistress, as she began to wiggle about, unable to contain her happiness. “Me neither, Mistress, me neither. I’m so happy for you! And the nursery will finally feel alive again!” “You’re going to have your hands full now, Elvire…” “Makes a change from just sitting here, waiting for the next batch, just making sure the toys are in tip-top condition...” “Think you can manage it?” “Mistress… I was made for this role. I’m more than capable of taking care of this little firestarter…” the Nanny smiled warmly at Serrill, grabbing one of the elf’s hands and squeezing it gently. “Oh I was just talking to Rissea… I was thinking of maybe getting Serrill’s little tiefling friend, Aurelia, to come take care of her…” “Am I not good enough, Mistress? I can do better!” “No, Elvire… you’re perfect. I just think it will make Serrill extra happy to have her friend be her babysitter or something. Maybe an apprentice Nanny… But don’t worry, she’ll never replace you, my most loyal minion.” “I think that’s a wonderful idea then! Oh the fun we’ll have! That tiefling was very good at keeping our little Rilly here all clean and padded.” “My thoughts exactly. Oh… Elvire?” “Yes, Mistress?” “Are the renovations done yet?” “Just about, yes Ma’am. Your spell worked perfectly, repairing everything and returning your throne room to its previous glory. And that nice little paladin maidservant Marco sent up has been cleaning up, doing the finishing touches.” “Oh good. Right, I’m just going to go take my baby up to the throne room. Why don’t you pop up in about… ten minutes… and you can pick up Serrill to put her down for a nap in her nursery? That way I can go help Willoa in the gardens for a bit. Sound like a plan?” “That sounds perfect, Mistress. And may I say… how happy I am for you to finally find that special little one.” Lilith looked down at Serrill, warmth and love in her eyes as she smiled down at the giggling cleric, the elf sucking on her dummy as she was bounced by her new Mummy, staring back at the Mistress with only love and devotion in hers. “Me too, Elvire… me too.” ====================================================== *sad trumpet sound* Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 36: A 'Fair' Fight Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “What do you mean… ‘more fair’?” Serrill asked, looking at the Mistress with suspicion. “I mean… it won’t be said I’m not nice to you… Don’t go thinking that anyone else would get this treatment…” “Well, aren't I special…” Serrill replied, rolling her eyes. “So what… you’ll… go easy on me?” “Oh dear… don’t be silly. I want a challenge. You’ve impressed me, something that others have not managed to do in my long, long existence. Plus you’re cute. So… you’ll get a do-over.” “A ‘do-over’? What the hell do you mean?” “I mean… this!” The Mistress snapped her fingers, when suddenly an invisible force, one similar to the one that knocked the elf down onto her padded butt, enveloped her target, lifting the elf back up onto her feet. But that wasn’t all, the elf suddenly felt… lighter… as her babyish dress and thick padding began to transform into the familiar blue robes she started this quest in. Her pigtails loosened, allowing her blonde hair to flow down her shoulders once again. The nappy cleaned itself, then began transforming into her familiar underwear. And the babyish urges she had been feeling for a while now… were fading, as if the curse was… …being removed. “I… you’re un-cursing me?” Serrill said, furrowing her brow at the Mistress, feeling completely regenerated. “Not really. I’m just starting you over from square one.” “Huh?” “Here are the terms. I’ve given you an advantage for now… I’ve returned you back to normal, but the curse remains. However…” “However?” “However, for every spell you use against me… the more you regress, returning all the familiar babyish accompaniments you once had.” “So the longer the fight goes on…” “The harder it will be for you to continue, until you’re a babbling mess, just waiting for Mummy to pick her up and love her,” the demon Mistress grinned. Serrill knew this was probably rigged from the start. No doubt the Mistress had some tricks up her sleeve that she’d employ to prevent the cleric from winning her fight. But… this was the best she was going to get, the only blessing she’s received during this whole cursed quest. Maybe it’ll be the Mistress’ downfall… “I accept then.” “I thought you’d say that. But remember… everything that you cast, no matter how small…” Without hesitation, Serrill hurled a fireball directly at the Mistress, not wanting to give that demon a second to react. She wasn’t going to waste this opportunity… “Wha… where yoo go?” Serrill said, looking around for a body, but finding nothing. “Eeeek!” She quickly realised what that spell cost her… and she quickly regretted her action. “No… I dun wanna sound like…” “A baby?” the Mistress growled in the cleric’s ear. Spinning around, Serrill looked at the Mistress, who had suddenly appeared behind her… and she didn’t look even the slightest bit exhausted! But Serrill felt the loss of power as soon as the fireball left her hands, leaving her with less magic… and apparently… less adult words. “No fair!” Serrill whined, sounding like the baby she desperately didn’t want to end up as. “D’awww, sweetie… you think I wouldn’t fight back?” “Stay stiww!” the elf cried out as she sent rays of scorching fire out towards the Mistress. But without effort, the Mistress spun on the spot, dancing around the beam of fire, as if she was just… playing. “I… how?” Serrill said, dumbfounded by her inability to even hit the Mistress, let alone do enough damage to kill her. “Sweetie… you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat your Mummy…” the Mistress teased the frustrated girl. That’s when Serrill realised she had used another spell… so she frantically looked around her body, trying to find something that was different. “I… can’t… nuffin is…” As she looked up, the Mistress pointed at the top of both sides of her head, indicating to the girl where the difference may be… “NO! NO PIGGIETAIL! NOOOO!” Serrill stomped her feet, acting more and more childish, to match her speech and hair. In frustration, without thinking, the cleric threw out another spell, this time a bolt of light that quickly soared towards its target… “Ah ah ah…” The Mistress vanished in an instant, dodging the bolt, allowing it to crash against the wall and dissipate. Appearing behind the exhausted cleric once again, she tapped the girl on the shoulder to tease her. Serrill spun around, appearing with a dummy that was filling her mouth. “HMPH!” “D’awww… aren’t you just a widdle cutie!” the Mistress replied, booping the dummy, pushing the girl back a couple of steps in the process. “ARRRRGH!” Serrill roared, taking a page from Vico’s playbook, as she thrust her hands outwards, towards the Mistress. Flames erupted from them in an arc, scorching the wall behind where the Mistress once stood. “JUS STAY STIWL!” There was a squeal of pain from behind her. “You… actually got me then, little one…” the Mistress growled, with a slight bit of annoyance in her voice. Serrill felt hopeful upon hearing that for once… she hadn’t missed. But as she turned and saw that she had only lightly scorched the Mistress’ arm… Serrill’s hope quickly faded. “I…” And just as Serrill was about to say something, her underwear ballooned out, and the familiar soft pillow between her legs indicated that she had been demoted back to nappies… again. This was a feeling she didn’t miss… mostly. “I… NO FAIR!” “Keep at it and you’ll be filling those…” the Mistress teased, grinning at her prey. “But for hurting me… I’m going to stop going easy on you…” With no warning, the Mistress thrust her own arms out, causing the force she had used to push the cleric back earlier to collide with the elf once again… though this time with a lot more force. Crashing into the scorched wall, Serrill had the wind knocked out of her as she began struggling to breathe, collapsing to the ground. There was no way she could fight like this, she could barely breathe, let alone focus to cast another offensive spell. “I won’t kill you… but I also won’t go easy on you, sweetie.” “I… I…” Knowing she had to do something… Serrill risked it, quickly waving her hand over her chest, using her magic to heal the damage done by the Mistress’ attack. And as she felt the soothing magic revitalising her injured body… she also felt a soothing warmth spreading around her lower region. ‘I… uhh… oh gods… that feels… uh….’ Serrill thought to herself as she flooded her nappy, causing it to sag under her robes. “...Uh… worth… it…” she said to herself, taking a deep breath, climbing back to her feet. “Fine. See if you can get past… these…” Throwing out her hands in a spiralling motion, little wisp-like creatures made of divine light appeared, orbiting the cleric. “Spirit Guardians? Oh sweetie… you’ll have to do better than that…” the Mistress laughed, before snapping her fingers once again. The little divine wisps began floating their way towards the Mistress… encircling her outstretched hand, as if she was in control of them. And as they spun… and spun… and spun… their forms began changing. “Wha are yoo doins to dem?” Serrill cried out, sounding even more infantile. “These will look perfect in your nursery…” Little strings appeared out of nowhere, attaching themselves to each of the little spirits, all connected to a hook… that the Mistress was now holding onto. And as the wisp’s rotation began slowing down, Serrill saw that they had been transformed into little glowing stars… and that they were now part of a mobile, one that you’d see hanging above… a baby’s crib. “Nooooo!” Serrill whined as her clothes began transforming, taking her by surprise, rapidly morphing back into the familiar blue babyish dress with matching ruffled nappy cover. Stamping her little padded boots on the throne room floor, Serrill was realising she was running out of spells… and if she runs out… her fate is sealed. So she had to make these remaining few count. The Mistress wasn’t invulnerable, she can be injured… So Serrill just had to figure out what she can use against her that will work… “Give up yet?” the Mistress teased her plaything. “Or do you want…” Before Serrill could act, the world around her vanished. But then reappeared in an instant, as she realised that she had been moved… “I think you need this, you’ve been a naughty little girl after all… not giving up… not listening to Mummy…” “HUH?” Serrill quickly looked back to see she was resting with her stomach on the Mistress’ lap, as her ‘Mummy’ sat upon her enormous throne, with the cleric’s padded backside sticking up into the air, her legs and arms dangling. “Now, this is going to hurt you more than it hurts me…” the Mistress giggled, before swinging her palm down, connecting it with the cleric’s padded bum. You’d think the padding would have somewhat cushioned the blow… especially given how thick it is… but this was wishful thinking on behalf of the cleric. No, this hit her ass as if there was no padding at all, causing the poor cleric to yelp in pain, tears streaming down her face after only one blow. Then came another. And another. And another. And as the Mistress continued spanking the poor, infantile elf… the girl just kept sobbing and sobbing, hoping this punishment would stop soon. After about twenty blows to her backside, the Mistress stopped, patting the distraught girl on the back. “There there, sweet girl. You’re done now. You were so good for me. You did such a good job!” ‘Is… she… praising me…?’ Serrill thought to herself, as tears continued falling down her cheeks, dropping onto the ground near the Mistress’ feet. “I can take away most of the pain… if you want, sweetpea…” “I…” “But it’ll cost you a spell…” “I…” Serrill knew there was no fighting after this. She’d barely be able to walk after the spanking she had just received, let alone continue fighting this demon. She needed to sacrifice a bit more to have a fighting chance. “...please…” “Good girl…” Those two words swirled around the elf’s head, making her feel… weirdly good? “Abbababbabb… eeeeeek!” Serrill quickly covered her mouth as she realised what had been taken from her after surrendering a spell. “Bababbb… abbabbba… abbbba… pffft!” And as she babbled, the Mistress stroked the cleric’s hair, before sitting the girl up and setting her on her feet once again. Once she knew she was steady enough, the Mistress joined her on her feet, and walked over to the opposite side of the throne room whilst the elf babbled to herself, Serrill desperately trying to get any adult words out. “BABBABB!” “You’re so cute, little Princess. Now… you’re nearly complete. So why don’t you come at me once again?” the Mistress goaded the cleric, hoping she would act rashly once again. But the cleric, despite having no adult words, still had her mind… though she wasn’t sure for how long. And she had fucked up enough to get to this point. No, she needed to figure this out. She needed to figure out this demon’s weakness. She had an idea… but she’d be taking a pretty big risk if she pulls it off… There was nothing else she could do. Serrill had to try this, it was the only thing left. She could risk it by not empowering herself… but she couldn’t take that risk, she’d have to risk the consequences of using her last remaining magic… So as she looked at the Mistress, despair in her heart, she closed her eyes… and prayed. She prayed to her gods. She prayed for help from the divinity… for her one last attempt. And as she opened her eyes, she felt her prayers answered as a new power surged within her… so she cast a quick blessing on herself, ensuring that if the Mistress didn’t somehow manage to dodge this spell… that she’d be obliterated instantly. Serrill knew that this would use up the last of her magic, causing her to potentially be regressed too far… but if she took out the Mistress at the same time… maybe the curse would be nullified and… well… it’s the best the cleric could hope for. The blessing caused the cleric to fall to the floor, landing on her padded backside once again. ‘Clearly there goes my walking ability… good job I don’t need it for… this…’ she thought to herself as she closed her eyes once again. With all her power, and with a little help from her god… Serrill concentrated all her magic into one large fiery sphere, one large enough to obliterate anything in its path… and with the size of this thing… it would be impossible to dodge. Never before had she conjured something this large… or destructive. She put every ounce of herself into this fiery magical sphere… before thrusting it forward… targeting the Mistress. And as the orb flew through the throne room, engulfing everything it passed through, reducing it all to cinders… the cleric felt the last of her adulthood fade into one last big push… Into the back of her nappy… ====================================================== Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuun! Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 35: Throne Room Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess The cleric waddled her way up the ornate stairs, her feet gently comforted against the cold stone steps by the soft, lush red carpet that scaled the entire path up to the Mistress’ Throne room. “Why did we sign up for this? Who’s great idea was it for us to enter this mysterious Spire in the middle of some cursed woods, run by a fucking demonic Queen… and thought we had ANY chance at defeating her…?” Serrill sighed as she carried the weight of her nappy up the steps. “And now, like usual, I have to pick up the fucking slack…” Serrill wished she had never joined this group. Sure, the reward at the end of this quest would be… well, be better than anything she could ever wish for… but there was no way she was going to defeat the Mistress all by herself. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. She knew her own power, she knew the damage she could cause… but the constant belittlement and the jokes and the party reducing her to just the healer of the group… caused her confidence and optimism to wane. Reaching the grand door at the top of the stairs, the familiar feeling rushed back to her. The Mistress clearly designed this Spire like this, making it so they have to climb all these stairs up to each floor, not knowing what danger may lurk on them. Part of the elf admired what the demon had managed. It was brilliantly designed. She just hated that she was the one getting to appreciate the design up close. Gripping both handles of the double doors with both her hands, she pushed with all her might… as the doors gave way, swinging open faster than she had assumed they would, causing her to stumble into a long hallway with one single duplicate door at the end. And before she could turn to look at the doors behind her, they swung shut, sealing her within. “Chandelier… gold trim… fancy rug… really think you’re royalty… don’t you?” Serrill called out to the Mistress, knowing she was probably spying on her, but not expecting an answer. Which caused her to nearly fall back onto her messy backside when a voice called out from the other end of the hallway. “Who says I’m not?” “What, you’re demonic royalty?” scoffed Serrill, as she stood up straight, trying to appear composed. “What if I am?” the Mistress’ voice replied. “Then you’re like any other Queen…” Serrill replied as she began waddling down the hallway towards the opposite end, to confront the Mistress in person. “How so?” “Silver spoon up your arse. Entitled. Think you have power over everyone just because you were born into a certain family…” “No sweetie, I have power because I worked for it.” “Ha… now I can see it… you working in a mill… or on a farm…” “Not all work is physical labour. But no, I worked my way to the top.” “I… wait… what?” “My parents… they despised what they saw in their daughter. The drive, the ambition… the uniqueness…” “And so you create a Spire, kidnap people and have your Lords corrupt them into all manners of fucked up things?” “I bring out the secret desires in people. The… special interests. At least in those that deserve them. In those that don’t… they’re subjected to karma.” “You… are enacting karmic justice?” the cleric scoffed. “Your Paladin friend… did he not deserve his fate?” “I mean… he was a little mean… and pigheaded… and a little up his own arse… but he didn’t deserve that fate!” “What, you think he doesn’t? Now he serves others, like he claimed so many times to do. He will keep my spire clean, along with the other maidservants. Is that not karma?” “Maybe… but it’s still not fair! What about Aurelia? She doesn’t deserve her fate!” “Her fate… was something she desired. Her fate was not karmic justice.” “Wait… so she wanted to be a sex slave for someone?” I asked, confused. “She desired to give up her will, allowing another to take over. She did this way before stepping foot in my Spire, when she signed her pact with her patron.” “Thorne?” Serrill asked, calling out into the air again. “Desire.” “Vico?” “Desire.” “Fuck off… Right, okay… with Isolde I see it’s karmic justice or whatever bullshit you want to call it. But what about Herta?” “Desire.” Serrill stopped, just before the door, taking a deep breath, holding her hands on the golden handles… preparing herself. “...AND WHAT ABOUT ME?” she screamed, throwing the doors open. “Well aren’t you just precious!” the Mistress squealed from her ornate red and gold throne that seemed to fill a good portion of the centre of the throne room. She looked just like her visage, but even more beautiful, her legs crossed as she casually sat back into her throne, sipping on something from a goblet made of what looked like silver. Giant polished marble pillars separated the sides off from the central hall, but as a whole, this ‘Throne Room’ was on par, if not succeeding, the majesty of other throne rooms Serrill had seen. Not that she had seen many, Serrill had only seen a couple in her lifetime, usually at the end of a quest she had completed on behalf of the leader of the realm. The biggest chandelier she had ever seen hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room, illuminating the whole thing. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, each packed full with volumes of varying sizes. And there were two doors, each on either side of the throne, indicating that there was even more to this floor than she initially expected. “I…” Serrill blushed, realising she was now standing face to face with the Mistress of the Spire… and here she was in this ridiculously babyish outfit. “Awww! And looks like you need a change, little one…” “I… I don’t!” Serrill whined back at the demonic Queen. “You don’t?” “No!” “I’m surprised you haven’t even tried taking it off…” “Wait… what?” Serrill said, her mouth open in shock as she quickly realised she had not even considered doing so. Grabbing the pins, she attempted to remove the nappy… but found the pins wouldn’t budge. “Haha… your Nanny really loves to play tricks. There is no removing your nappy, pumpkin. I just wanted to see you try.” “I… SHUT UP!” Serrill snapped back at the demon. “Don’t talk to your Mummy like that…” “I CAN TALK TO YOU HOWE-” The bulb lit up finally in Serrill’s mind. “My… what?” “You think the previous floor was for you? I mean, you’re not wrong, it is entirely for you. But you were never the target for Nanny. Your friend Vico… he was the intended target for her. Even if he hadn’t tried to attack her from behind, she would have turned him into a little toy for you eventually. No… you were intended… for me.” “I… so…” “I’ve been looking for so long. For someone who could be my little one… and over the millenia… I found no one good enough. Then, as I saw you wandering through my forest… I just knew it was you.” “What was me?” “My little baby.” “I… but… what about the floor downstairs?” “It was originally designed for my future baby to spend most of her time, a floor dedicated to her, but until I found such a cutie, it’s… I suppose you could call it a testing ground. A place where the Nanny tests our candidates for the most important role in this Spire… to be my baby. Over the years, Nanny has tested countless candidates. None of them made it, ending up as dolls or toys for my future baby. Some candidates didn’t make it past earlier floors, not even making it to see the Nanny, whilst their groups made it all the way to her… only to be turned into toys like the others. But no one has ever made it past her… except you.” “So what… I’m special?” “Don’t you think so? I saw it straight away…” “BUT I HATE THIS FUCKING STUFF!” “Sweetie, you asked me whether it was karmic justice or desire for you… and we both know you’re a sweet, innocent girl…” “So you’re saying I actually desire this crap?” Serrill snapped back at the Mistress, taking a few steps forward until she was in the middle of the Throne room. “I’m saying that deep down… part of you wants this. Maybe not the baby stuff in particular… but you want to be loved… cared for… protected… and girl, you look fucking adorable in that little outfit of yours… and let’s not ignore that cute padded ass…” Serrill could feel her cheeks burning as she grabbed her staff, preparing herself for a fight. “Sweetie… we both know how this will end. And if you give up now… you won’t get a spanking,” the Mistress warned her. “I will uphold my promise to my friends. I will defeat you, demon!” The Mistress just sighed, adjusting her sitting position as she sat more normally, putting her goblet on the arm of the throne. “Look, you defeat me, you get your friends back. You take control of the tower. You turn them back to normal. Then what? Live on the riches for a while? Continue adventuring? The whole time… unable to find that one thing that your soul is craving… but if you give in… you’ll be my little one forever… and we shall rule together.” Serrill was taken aback by this proposition. She assumed that she would just be another toy of the Mistress’, not a… partner. “But… won’t I be regressed?” “Not all of the time. But yes, a lot of the time you will be just an empty-headed little baby. But you’ll be my little Princess… and you’ll never want for nothing.” “What if… I want my friends to return to normal and be free?” “Sweetie… I would love to do that, if that is what you truly want… but I have an image to uphold,” the Mistress replied, winking at the cleric. “I have to appear as this big scary demon domme to everyone else. I can’t just let them go.” Serrill had an idea. “Then… no… I want my friends to be free. If I have to fight you for it to happen, I will. But… if you do let them go… and stop pestering the townsfolk over at Rosehaven… I…” The Mistress’ face lit up. “Then I… would… be your baby… willingly…” Serrill sighed. “Tempting offer. Very tempting. But… we both know you don’t stand a chance. I know you’re powerful. You have a lot of power hidden beneath that adorable little innocent facade of yours… but is it enough? If I decline your offer, and I beat you… I get you AND your little friends.” “And if I beat you… you get nothing!” The Mistress stood up, adjusted her long black dress, and strode towards the cleric, her eyes locked onto the cleric’s dazzling blue ones, until she was standing directly in front of the trembling girl. “So… I think I’ll take my chances, little elf. But I admire your willingness to sacrifice yourself. It’s a trait I admire,” the Mistress growled, looking down at the elf with a grin on her face. “I… I will have to fight you then…” Serrill said, adjusting her outfit, trying to adjust the nappy cover so it wasn’t pinching. “You’re such a little cutie! I just want to eat you all up…” Serrill quickly thrust her staff forward, preparing her body to cast her most powerful spell… when suddenly the Mistress raised her wrist, causing an unknown force to throw the cleric back a few feet, onto her very padded, very full, backside. “EWWWWWW!” Serrill cried as she felt the mess in her nappy move around again. “Silly girl. You seriously think you can defeat me, Mistress of the Spire? With a messy nappy and a few spells powered by your pathetic deity?” Serrill didn’t know how to respond, she was too busy trying to not be disgusted by the mess in her nappy. The Mistress just looked down at her with a grin on her face. “No… you will succumb to my will, you will worship me, and you will live in bliss as my adorable little one. But… how about we make it a little bit more fair…?” ====================================================== Poor Serrill... can she defeat the Mistress? Or will she be doomed to the nursery for all eternity? Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 34: Alone Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “Vico…” Serrill sobbed into the former-friend-turned-plush-toy, as she clutched him tightly to her chest. The doll was silent. Lifeless. “Can… Can you even hear me? Are you even able to think? Or… are you asleep?” It was then that she realised something. “Oh gods… I hope you’re all asleep. That would be a horrible fate otherwise… But don’t worry, I’ll save you… I’ll… I’ll think of something… some way to save you and all the others trapped here… as soon… as soon as I find out how to get OUT OF THIS DAMN PLAYPEN!” Frustrated, Serrill tried pulling the dummy out of her mouth with more force than she had previously used, hoping that maybe… just maybe… it would finally release itself from her mouth and she’ll be able to cast magic once again. But… nothing. There was no budging this infernal dummy, which meant her magic was still silenced. And it’s not like she has any physical training, she wouldn’t last ten seconds in a physical fight without her magic. She doesn’t even have her staff. And as the elf sat up… she realised that wasn’t the only issue bothering her right now. “Ewwwww…” she cried out, as the mush in the back of her nappy moved around. “I really need a change…” She regretted trying to cast a spell earlier, without thinking first. She should have felt something was off… but with the position she’s currently in, and the curse slowly corrupting her… she wasn’t thinking. But she had learnt from it… she wasn’t going to attempt to cast a spell anytime soon. She wasn’t going to mess herself yet again and make it even worse. She could waddle about around the playpen with the current thickness of her nappy, though one more accident and she’ll be forced to crawl. Desperately wanting to free herself from this situation, Serrill focused as hard as she could, trying to fight off the corruption that was trying to make her thoughts cloudy. But this became harder and harder the more she focused. The more she focused on keeping her adult thoughts, the more she wanted to investigate all these toys dotted around the playpen. “I… I guess I could… just try… a few?” she said to herself, trying to justify it, knowing full well that she really shouldn’t give in to the corruption right now. Her friends needed her. So gripping the little Vico stuffie tightly, she climbed to her feet and began waddling over to the nearest activity. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but it must have been a while by now, as Serrill had looked back towards all the toys and activities she had tried out. Which ended up being a lot more than she had intended on playing with. First she spent time using some chalks to paint a pretty picture onto paper, one of her and the Nanny playing in a field. It was supposed to be her and Vico defeating the Mistress… but before she knew it, it was a cute little picture of her and her Nanny. Then she moved onto the wooden blocks, stacking them as high as she could manage, before knocking them over and giggling. Then there was a leather ball, she began bouncing it around, losing herself in the little games she made up for it. And after a couple more games, she ended up here… in front of this enormous rocking horse. Serrill knew she shouldn’t. She knew she’d lose herself if she sat on that thing. But the temptation… it was proving too much for the infantile cleric. Reaching up, she screamed internally at herself, ordering herself to not sit upon that wooden horse. But… her body disobeyed her, reaching further and further… “Ah ah ah! No sweetie…” the Nanny called out, rushing across the playpen floor. “If you want to go on that, you’ll need Nanny’s help!” Serrill looked up at the Nanny, then back at the horse, then back at Nanny. Reaching up, she indicated she wanted ‘uppies’, to which the Nanny was happy to oblige. “Have you been having fun, sweetpea? It’s been so nice to have a baby in the nursery.” Serrill nodded and smiled, drool dripping from the corners of her mouth behind her dummy… but she didn’t care at this point. “Good girl!” the Nanny smiled back at the regressed cleric. “Now, let's get you on here, shall we?” Lifting the helpless cleric up onto the rocking horse with absolutely no difficulty, the nanny made sure the elf was comfortable and steady, before letting go of Serrill and putting her hands gently on the horse, beginning to gently rock it back and forth. Instantly Serrill was enamoured by this feeling. It was the best thing ever! She loved every second of it, and began giggling as she was gently rocked, Vico still in her arm. “Wheeeeee!” Serrill cried out in joy, completely forgetting that she was here against her will, that all her friends depended on her, that her own life was on the line right now… no, she was babbling at this point, having the time of her life, not even caring about using the potty anymore. “Such a little cutie! You’re going to be so happy here, precious little girl. You’ll be played with forever… and ever… and ever…” Those words must have triggered something within the cleric, as suddenly she was brought back into the moment, her adult mind back in control as her eyes began darting around the playroom in a panic. “I… I…” “What’s up, sweetpea?” “I… I…” “Do you need your dummy out? What are you trying to tell Nanny?” The Nanny, unwittingly, grabbed both sides of the girl’s dummy, pulling it out of her mouth, thinking that the poor girl had been fully regressed at this point. Serrill, taking full advantage of this opportunity, not wasting even a single second, took one look at the Nanny and stretched her hands out, palms out, towards the Nanny. “INFERNUS!” she cried out as her palms began glowing, before they erupted with a huge searing flame that engulfed the Nanny entirely. Putting as much raw emotion and magic into her blast as she could muster, she pushed herself harder than ever, knowing that if she failed… this was it… she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. It was this… or a fate worse than death. The fire streaming from her hands covered half of the playpen, scorching the playpen walls, causing it to burn and crumble, as the stream showed no signs of stopping. “FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!” And when her spell finally ran out, and the flames dissipated… Serrill looked around, searching for the Nanny. “Umm… Nanny?” Serrill called out, hoping to the gods that there was no reply. If the Nanny had survived that… Serrill was out of ideas. Waiting a few seconds longer for a response, Serrill looked down at the floor, unsure as to how she was going to get down from this wooden horse. “...Fuck it…” she said, moving her leg over the horse, as she tried to climb down carefully, the thick swollen nappy making it very difficult. “So you’ve defeated the Nanny…” a voice called out, filling the room just like it had done many times before. This sudden, unexpected voice startled the elf, causing her to slip and fall back onto her very padded, very mushy behind. This meant that she wasn’t hurt… but the mess in the back of her nappy felt even worse now, which caused her to begin crying… like a baby. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. Shame your Nanny isn’t there to help you clean that up,” the Mistress said, in her usual, sultry voice. A voice that seemed to calm the elf down a little, stopping the crying, turning it into sniffles. “I… I did it,” replied Serrill, looking around for her Vico stuffie, finding it laying near the rocking horse. “I defeated your last Lord…” “And so you’ve earned the right to face me,” the Mistress said, within which Serrill felt she could feel a slight sense of glee in the Mistress’ voice. “So waddle your way up, little cleric. Beat me… and claim your reward. Question is… do you think you can manage it?” “I… I can… and will!” Serrill replied, shouting into the ether. “Such determination… well you’ve managed what no other adventurer has ever done… and that is make it to my throne room. So congratulations are in order. But don’t think I’m a pushover just because I haven’t fought anyone in millenia…” “I… I will beat you! For my friends!” “Well good luck, little one. You’ll find the stairs up in the main lobby. See you soon, sweetheart…” Serrill waited a minute to make sure the Mistress had gone, or at least stopped bothering her, as no doubt she was always watching the poor girl, before she attempted to stand up, Vico stuffie in hand. After a little struggle, the cleric made it to her feet, but found herself a bit wobbly due to the comically thick nappy drooping between her legs. “How… am I supposed to fight with this damn thing… I’m… I’m going to need a change first…” Serrill said to herself, knowing that her new stuffie wasn’t going to reply until she had defeated the Mistress. “Fuck it. Let’s go, Vico…” Making it through the gap in the burning playpen fence, Serrill cautiously waddled across the playroom, making her way towards the exit. “I’ll be glad to get changed out of this thing…” she sighed, hanging her head in shame as she reached the door, grabbing it with her free hand and pulling it open with all her remaining strength. It was heavier than she expected, she had to really put her back into it to pull it open, but she managed to pull it back far enough to slip through quickly, stumbling into the lobby… right into someone’s chest. Before she could look up, the owner of the chest wrapped their arms around the girl, stroking her hair. Serrill wanted to jump back in fear, in case it was the Nanny once again… but as she looked up, she recognised the beautiful tiefling face she admired so much. “Aurelia!” Serrill cried out, returning the hug back to the still-naked tiefling. “I missed you all so much! Where did you go?” “We were transported to a pocket dimension by the Nanny, and were forced to watch everything from the outside, unable to call out to you or help, Ma’am,” Magnus replied, on behalf of the group, probably because he was the only one left with any sense or intelligence left. Aurelia was too meek and humble to talk, Vico is now a stuffie, Isolde is a bimbo, Herta is a puppy, and Thistle was still bound in those vines, preventing them from speaking still. So it seemed like it was up to Magnus to be the only one Serrill could hold an actual conversation with… something the cleric appreciated… but really she desperately wished it was someone else. “So you… saw…?” “Everything girl!” Isolde said in her new bubbly voice, winking at the cleric. This caused Serrill’s face to burn bright red. “I… well I defeated the Nanny, as you probably know… so it… umm…” “It’s time for you to face the Mistress,” Magnus replied. “I wish we could help, but we’re all too far gone. None of us can fight. This is on you, even with… this curse.” “Can I at least get a change?” “We checked the other rooms… the magic within has gone now that the Nanny has been defeated. So they’re bare. No changing tables or supplies.” Serrill’s jaw dropped. “So… no changes then?” “I think we may have one in your pack… if we can find that…” “MY STAFF!” Serrill blurted out. “I have that here. It was the only thing that was left in the Nursery. I’m afraid your clothes are gone though.” Serrill sighed, breathing out heavily as she looked up at Malcolm, holding out her staff for her to take. She snatched it with possessiveness, clutching it to her chest as she handed the Vico stuffie over to the paladin, who carefully put the halfling away in his pack. “So no change, no normal clothes, no support… just how am I supposed to defeat this fucking Mistress?” “We believe in you…” Magnus said, placing his hand on the cleric’s shoulder as a sign of support. “Great. Fucking ‘power of friendship’ will really help here…” Serrill said, rolling her eyes at the paladin, before turning to face the rest of the group. “Look, you all better stay here, the Lord is defeated and there are no dangers on this floor. Plus you’re just a liability up there. It’s already going to be difficult to beat this demonic bitch… but I can’t do that if I’m worried about you all. Not when none of you are ready for combat.” “I think that’s for the best,” Magnus replied. “But we do wish you good luck. If you win… if you defeat her… maybe there’s a chance…” “I know. Just… I’ll try. I’m sorry if I don’t manage it. I’m sorry if I fail and you’re all cursed to these new existences.” Aurelia didn’t say a word, she just shuffled over and wrapped her arms around the elf once again, hugging her tightly. “I… thank you…” Serrill replied, embracing the hug. “But… I need to go… the sooner I fix all this, the sooner I can change… I… I promise I’ll try… I hope… I hope I see you all again…” Gently pushing Aurelia away from her, she waddled quickly towards a new door that had materialised in the middle of the room, no doubt holding the stairway up on the other side of the wooden door. ====================================================== And then there was one... Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 33: Toys Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess Serrill stared at the Drow doll, her eyes unable to look away, realising just how much danger she was in right now. “I… I…” “D’aww, what’s up, little cupcake?” the ghostly Nanny asked, bouncing the girl up and down on her hip, before taking away the doll and grabbing the next one, handing it to the cleric. “I… don’t…” “Don’t what, sweetie?” “I DUN WANNA BE A TOY!” The Nanny didn’t say anything, she just giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, before looking at the infantile-looking cleric and smiling. “Oh sweetie. It’s not like you have any choice in the matter.” “I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL… I’LL…” Serrill didn’t know what to do. She wanted to fight, but without her staff or her gear… she was much weaker than usual. But… she wasn’t completely helpless. So as she focused all her magical power, preparing herself to banish this unholy being… she pushed all her fear down into that pit in her stomach. “TAKE THIS!” Serrill screamed, lifting her open hand up, pointing it directly at the Nanny’s face as she looked away so she didn’t blind herself due to the close proximity. This would obliterate any undead creature. Then Serrill would be free to search for her friends, before she was fully regressed, then go take on that demonic bitch at the top of the Spire. “D’awww… is the baby showing Nanny how high she can count?” the Nanny replied, with not even a speck of fear in her voice. “Huh?” Serrill opened her eyes and looked back at her target… only to find her hand looking… normal… and not a sign of her spell on the wall behind her target or the Nanny’s incorporeal form. So she tried again, this time watching… but as she thrust her hand out… little sparks erupted… but that was it. Like a tiny firework that failed to go off. “What the…?” “Oh… were you trying to be a naughty little baby? Were you trying to cast something, little one?” “I… wha… What happened to my magic?” “Your dummy prevents any naughty magic, sweetie…” “It… what?” “You heard me. It not only silences you, but it also silences your magic…” the Nanny said, grinning at the helpless elf in her arms. “I… I’m sorry! I…” Serrill began pleading. “Oh sweetie, I’m not going to punish you. The dummy will take care of that…” “Huh?” Serrill’s eyes widened in fear. The Nanny didn’t say a word, she just stood there, waiting. And a few moments later… Serrill found out just what she was waiting for… The back of Serrill’s nappy filled up in a matter of seconds. There was no stopping it, whatever magic was silencing the poor elf prevented her from even attempting to hold it in. “Eeeeeeeek!” Serrill squealed, burying her face into the Nanny’s shoulder, as her nappy expanded and expanded, until it was at least twice the size as it was before. And infinitely more disgusting and humiliating. “Such a silly baby. You can’t beat Nanny. Now… Why don’t we continue with the toys and you can pick out a couple, okay Princess? What about this one? This one is also a wizard! You like magic, don’t you?” Serrill couldn’t focus on what the Nanny was saying. She was too mortified by what she had just done, and the mess in her nappy was making her feel extremely uncomfortable. “Look, he even has spiky blue hair! And violet eyes! Isn’t that pretty? Oh and look, he even comes with a little tabby cat accessory! I bet you’d have lots of fun with him!” Serrill knew it was futile to fight back now. Without her magic… she was screwed. So the best thing she could do now… was try to humour the Nanny so that she takes pity on the poor girl, hopefully giving her a fate that wasn’t so… cruel. “Barnabas is a human. You have a couple of humans in your group, don’t you Princess? Some people find them a bit dull, a bit basic, but I think they’re adorable! This one even has a really cute name too… Tinklelight! Though you’re much more of a… tinkle lots…” Looking at the wizard doll, blushing, it did look creepily like a lot of wizards she had seen before. Even down to the sparkly purple hooded robe it wore. Shaking her head, Serrill pushed the doll away from her. “No?” the Nanny asked. “Well what about… this one?” Putting back Barnabas and picking up another toy, this time another plush one, the Nanny brought it closer so that Serrill could examine it further. “This one, little one… this one is Addie. She was a beautiful angel-like being. And like your maid friend, she swore an oath. Shame she couldn’t fulfil that oath… instead she filled the back of her nappy and ended up as this cute little plush toy.” Serrill examined the stuffed aasimar toy. Red hair, blue eyes… if she was like any of the aasimar she had seen before… Addie was probably strong and wise and… like the Nanny said… beautiful. Now she was just this cute little stuffed toy with sewn on angel wings. But this one wasn’t like the others, instead of the adventurer’s getup that others wore… this one wore an adorable little dress similar to the one Serrill was currently wearing, albeit Addie’s was white and gold, instead of blue and white. “She’s a lot like you too, Princess. At least the real you.” Blushing, Serrill took the small stuffie and held it close to her chest. “D’awww, I thought you’d like her. What about another one? Oh I know! What about Eral’ae?” Looking back, the Nanny grabbed a random stuffie from the assortment of toys, holding it in front of the cleric for her to judge and decide. “Who… dat?” Serrill said, still hugging her new aasimar stuffie close to her chest. “This, little one, was the last one to come through our doors. Look at how her gold scales shimmer in the light… isn’t it pretty?” “I… uh… huh…” Serrill could feel herself slipping away, piece by piece. Unless Vico came to rescue her… there was no stopping this. And she had no idea where the halfling was right now, everyone had just… disappeared. So whilst a tiny part of her still resisted, keeping her from completely regressing, most of her mind had just simply… given up. “She was a brave little caster, just like you. Tried to use that draconic power of hers to try to defeat me. But… as you can see… no one has ever managed it. You all end up in the same position, helpless… dependent on Nanny. Now, do you want to know some cute little things about this little stuffie?” “Uh huh!” Serrill replied, looking closely at what looked like a drow elf, but not a pure-blooded drow, more like a half elf. And by the stitched-on scales on her face… she was probably a sorcerer. With one blue eye and one green, this pretty little drow sorcerer looked adorable, her long flowing white hair pinned back into a ponytail with a bit of twine. Like the aasimar stuffie, this half-drow was also dressed in an identical baby dress, though it was a rich purple colour, with white accents. “You like her then?” the Nanny said, after which Serrill realised she zoned out a little whilst the Nanny was talking about the half-drow stuffie. In reality… Serrill didn’t really want any toy. What she wanted was to get out of here… but she had to appease the Nanny for a while longer, to either give Vico time to come and rescue her… or to at the very least, make the Nanny feel generous and not give her a humiliating ending. “Right, I think two toys is enough, why don’t we go get you settled down in the playroom?” Serrill gave her best sad-puppy-dog-eyes to the Nanny. “Let me guess, little Rilly…” the Nanny’s eyebrow raised. “You want a change first?” Hesitantly, Serrill nodded back, hoping the Nanny would take pity on the poor girl. “You can wait, sweetie. That nappy can hold a lot more, and you’re way overdue for your time in the playroom…” Blushing and hiding her face in the ghostly Nanny’s shoulder once again, Serrill felt humiliated and powerless as the Nanny carried the poor regressed elf out of the toy closet. “Right, let’s get you settled in… shall we?” Serrill couldn’t believe her eyes. The playroom was enormous. Easily four times the size of the nursery, with a giant playpen set up in the middle of the room, covering most of the floorspace. And dotted around that playpen, were various toys, all scaled up for an adult. Blocks, rings, baby books… There were even some more dolls lying on the ground near the giant rocking horse that, for some reason, looked so appealing to Serrill. But she knew that was just the curse corrupting her. Making her like all this. She… she couldn’t really like this kind of thing… right? No… clearly it’s just the curse… “Do you like, little Princess?” the Nanny asked, walking towards the edge of the wooden playpen, looking inwards. “I… it’s so… big…” replied Serrill. “Perfect for a little one like you to have lots of fun!” the Nanny said cheerily, as she moved Serrill around on her hip, before cupping both her hands under the cleric’s arms… and gently sitting the poor elf in the playpen. “And don’t think about escaping, you can’t get out of this without help.” Instinctively, Serrill climbed to her feet, adjusting her legs to accommodate the bulkier nappy, then ran full speed at the playpen edge. What the elf intended to do… was hop over the waist-height wooden playpen fence, sprint past the ghost, grab her staff, try to remove the dummy… and if that failed, find her friends then kick this ghost’s arse. But what happened was that she ran right at the playpen fence, and just as she was just about to jump up… the playpen’s walls grew vertically, raising themself to what looked like eight feet higher than they were before. “Noooo….” wailed Serrill, as she collided with the playpen wall and fell back onto her padded rear, realising she genuinely couldn’t escape. “Silly baby. I told you that you can’t get out of this playpen without help. So run along, little one, go have some fun and I’ll be back to check on you s-” Before the ghostly Nanny could finish her sentence, she froze then spun around, appearing to catch something midair. “Ah ah ah…” Serrill looked to see what she was doing, and when the Nanny turned around, her heart sank as she saw Vico, dangling there, with the Nanny’s hand gripped around his throat, holding him up with ease. The halfling looked at Serrill, his weapon in hand… and his eyes wide open in fear. “Trying to save the little Princess? Silly little man. But… You’ll make a fine toy…” the Nanny grinned as the barbarian’s axe… turned to wool. Serrill sat there in fear as the Nanny threw the lifeless halfling into the playpen, just a few feet from her. One minute her halfling companion was looking at her, struggling against the Nanny’s grip… and the next… he’s half his original size, made out of wool… looking like a stuffed toy version of him. The life behind his eyes had gone, replaced by glassy little beads that looked like they were sewn in. “WHY DID YOU DO DAT?” Serrill screamed around her dummy. “I thought you’d want another toy, sweetie…” the Nanny shrugged. “YOU SHOULD’VE TAKEN ME! ME!” the elf said as she pointed at herself, furiously. “Oh sweetie. I can make as many toys as needed. You’ll understand things better soon. For now, you just play here for a bit. Then once I’ve prepared some things, I’ll come and get you. So have fun, little one!” The Nanny waved goodbye to the elf, before turning to leave and heading out of the playroom door, locking it behind her. Serrill took a second before dashing over to where the toy version of Vico was, picking him up and squeezing him to her chest, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she began crying uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry Vico… I’m so sorry…” ====================================================== Happy New Year! So... those theories eh? *giggles* Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 32: Nanny Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “Do you need help, Ma’am?” Magnus asked as he watched the cleric struggle to even get up onto the large changing table, let alone actually change herself. “I… could… you… could you…” “It would be my pleasure…” Magnus walked over to the elf and put his arms under her to help lift her onto the table, but as he lifted them up to help take some of her weight… he found she had none. At least not enough to provide a challenge in lifting her up. It was as if she weighed nothing… as if she weighed… as much as… a baby. So quickly lifting her up, he rested her on top of the changing table. Serrill, taking the dummy out of her mouth, looked at the paladin, staring at him as he just stood there… smiling at her. “WELL DON’T JUST STAND THERE! At least hand me the supplies so I can…” But as soon as Serrill blinked… …her friends had disappeared. “Magnus?” she called out, looking around the nursery for any sign of him or Vico. But there was nothing. She was alone. So she called out to those who still stood in the lobby of this floor. “Anyone else there?” Nothing. “What the fuck…” Suddenly her dummy, the one she had just put by her side… began floating upwards, pointing its teat towards her mouth… and flew forward, lodging itself firmly in her open mouth. Trying to spit it out, Serrill quickly found it was stuck, there was no spitting it out. So she tried with her hands to pull it out… to no avail. “Ah ah ah… you’re lucky I don’t wash that mouth out with soap for such language…” a soothing voice said, coming from somewhere in the nursery. But Serrill couldn’t see anything. It was just her… “Who… who is that…?” Serrill called out, dreading a reply. “Why it’s Nanny, dearie!” “Where… where are you…?” “I’m right…” and at that moment, a humanoid figure phased into existence next to the changing table, looking down at the very vulnerable cleric. “...here!” She was a rather large woman, almost as large as the Mistress when she was in her normal form and not her ‘trying to be super scary and intimidating for her victims’ form, though this ‘Nanny’ was a lot more rounded than the voluptuous Mistress. Wearing an outfit that looked somewhat similar to Magnus’, though the pinny on the front was a slightly different form… she looked like any average Nanny that wealthy people would hire to look after their offspring so they didn’t have to do it themselves. Her brunette hair tied up into a neat bun, with a little white headband that matched her pinny, she looked very professional… and kind… in a weird way. But it wasn’t her outfit that stood out, no, she looked just like any normal Nanny. What wasn’t normal was the slight flicker in her incorporeal form, the slight transparency you’d see around the edges, being able to see through her shoulder at one point. “Who… I mean… What are you? And what did you do with my friends?” Serrill knew what she was, but she had to make sure. Because she knew a few spells that would help her against ghosts… if her hunch was correct. “You can play with your friends soon enough, sweetie. But I smell a very messy nappy in here! Is it yours, cutie? Do you need that widdle stinky bum of yours changed?” “I…” “I thought so. It’s you! You’re the stinky widdle baby!” the Nanny teased the cleric, stretching her fingers over to the cleric’s midsection, lightly tickling her and making the cleric squeal and wriggle. “Stoooooop!” “Not a chance, baby girl… been a while since I last got to look after a little one like you…” She continued tickling the poor elf, until Serrill was panting and struggling to breathe… Only then did the Nanny stop, and instantly bend down to the shelves below the changing table. “Right… What do we need? Nappy… obviously… a cloth wipe… powder… a toy? No… that can wait for next time… OH! An outfit… of course! I picked something out whilst I waited for you to make your way up the Spire. And wow… What a wait! Good job I’m a patient Nanny!” the Nanny giggled, in such a reassuring, adorable way. Appearing in front of the cleric once again, with her arms full of supplies, she placed them down on the table, then quickly turned to the wall… and walked through it… “I… holy poop…” Serrill said from behind her magically locked dummy. “I meant holy poop… poop… poop… WHY CAN’T I SAY POOP?” Quickly realising that whatever magic was keeping her dummy in her mouth was also silencing her expletives… she sighed and began trying to get off the changing table before the Nanny returned… only to find she couldn’t seem to get up. She could barely move at this point, just stuck laying on her back… waiting for the Nanny to return with whatever outfit she had been saving for her. “Oh this will look precious on you…” Serrill turned to look at the wall where the Nanny had phased through, but saw nothing. But as soon as she looked around at the door, she saw the Nanny walking in, holding a frilly little blue and white baby dress, complete with what looked like a matching nappy cover, though it was in a size much more appropriate for an adult like her. “Why… use door?” “Objects can’t phase, silly baby! Nanny can, but your pretty little dress can’t!” the Nanny replied. “Now… are you going to be a good girl for Nanny?” Serrill, frozen in fear, didn’t know what to say or do. It’s not like she could move… and her words were being altered by the magical dummy stuck in her mouth. Plus… she figured that if the Nanny did change her nappy… then that would help her fight the ghostly Lord of this floor, as she’ll be in a much better position to move around and cast spells. So she just lay there, allowing the Nanny to walk over and begin changing her. It was weird at first, having not only some stranger, but some random ghost Nanny change her and see her most intimate area… but it was going to be worth it. Once she’s up and changed and able to get her body free, she can banish the Nanny with a quick spell and go find her friends. …Though the thought of having to do it in that ridiculous baby dress made her cheeks turn bright red. “Aaaaand there we go! All snug and dry and clean!” the Nanny announced as she patted the front of the cloth nappy, admiring the neat job she had done. “Is that better? Does the baby feel better now that she's not all stinky and poopy?” Serrill blushed as she tried covering her face, trying her absolute best to try to hide her embarrassment. But it was no use, the Nanny knew just what she was doing. She was a pro. Aaaand… It didn’t help that Serrill could only use one hand to hide her face, as her other hand was currently trying to hide her chest due to her current state of undress, something the Nanny had done straight away at the start of the change, leaving the poor elf in just her nappy… and nothing else. “And now… let’s get the little Princess all dressed up, shall we?” Grabbing the dress that she had laid out on the crib mattress, the Nanny proceeded to lift the cleric up into a sitting position, before deftly slipping the dress over her head, slipping the girl’s arms into the sleeves with absolutely no difficulty or awkwardness. Serrill adult clothes were piled up in the trash, with her staff leaning against the wall nearby… all of which were out of reach. So she kept up the act, allowing the Nanny to dress her. The Nanny took the elf’s long blonde hair… and began putting it into pigtails, adding little baby blue bows to each of them. “Don’t you just look precious!” the Nanny squealed with joy, admiring the work she had put in. “Now, let’s get this nappy cover on, and some little sockies… then we can go pick out a few toys for you…” Serrill blushed even more as the ghostly Nanny grabbed some frilly socks and slipped them on the adult baby’s little feet, before slipping the nappy cover up her legs, covering her very large, very thick nappy that was providing a nice cushion for the cleric to sit on due to its thickness. “Right… I think you’re ready. But first, let’s go pick out a toy or two, shall we?” ‘I’ll… I’ll just wait… I’ll wait for my opportunity… my clothes… they’re right…’ And just as Serrill looked over to the waste bin where her adult clothes were, the Nanny snapped her fingers… and suddenly the bin was gone. Serrill’s staff was still there, but her adult clothes were just… gone. “Wha…?” Serrill cried out as the Nanny picked the girl up with little to no effort, holding the ridiculously babyish elf on her hip like you’d see any parent or Nanny do with their child. “What’s that, sweetpea? Oh your big girl clothes? They’re gone. You don’t need them. Banished to another realm. I kept your staff as a reminder that you’re never going to be the cleric you once were. Not anymore.” Serrill’s eyes widened in fear. But there was a slight flicker of hope still left within her. The Nanny had made one vital mistake in keeping the elf’s staff. Because that would help her defeat this ghost, and even if she has to waddle up to the Mistress’ throne room in this ridiculous outfit… she’ll defeat that bitch too. Wandering out of the Nursery with the infantile Serrill on her hips, the elf’s legs wrapped around the Nanny’s waist… the Nanny took a turn towards the room labelled ‘Toy Room’, heading over to it and opening it with ease. Looking back into the lobby… Serrill saw no sign of her friends. Not even those she ordered to stay back. Everyone had just… disappeared. “Right… Why don’t you have a little look and tell Nanny if there are any toys you want to play with? Just pick out a couple of ones that catch your eye, okay Princess?” the Nanny said, in a soft, soothing tone, bouncing the poor cleric on her hip. Serrill looked back into the room they had just entered and instantly noticed it was a lot smaller than the Nursery or even the lobby. This was more like a closet. And in it, was just a stack of shelves on the wall opposite the door… each full of toys. Toys very similar to the two she had found in the crib earlier. Using her free hand, the Nanny grabbed the top leftmost toy, handing it to the elf, who took it and began examining it. Part of Serrill knew she had to play along, to play the part of the ‘good girl’, just until she had an opportunity to grab her staff. So, trying to gain more knowledge, she figured she’d see what the deal was with these toys. The first toy she received was a doll. One that you’d see toddlers playing with. It was wearing a dress similar to that Serrill was currently wearing, even down to the thick nappy between her legs. Black hair, purple eyes… Its plastic skin was even the familiar bluish tinge you’d see on a drow elf… this doll didn’t look like any ordinary doll. And like the stuffies on the bed, this doll too had a label, though this one wasn’t sewn on, this was attached by a piece of string around it’s ankle. Taking a closer look, Serrill began reading it aloud. “R… Rosie… Wiz… Wizard… who…” “Wizard who couldn’t keep her panties dry…” the Nanny finished her sentence off for her. “Wai… are dese…” “Past adventurers? Why yes! This one tried defeating me a good while back. Now she’s just a little plaything. She’s much cuter like this, don’t you think?” The pit at the bottom of Serrill’s stomach grew larger and larger as she realised the true danger she was now in. ====================================================== Hope you all had a good Christmas! And now we finally meet the Nanny! Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 31: Weight Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “Serrill?” Vico asked, hesitantly, as they walked through the narrow corridor in single file, towards the staircase at the end of the dimly lit tunnel. “Yes, Vico?” “Are… are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Serrill snapped back at the halfling. “You sure? Because what just ha-” “I SAID I’M FINE!” “Okay… well if you need a minute to… clean yourself up… you should do so…” “I’m fine,” Serrill repeated. Something she kept repeating over and over to herself in her head, in an attempt to try to not let herself spiral into infancy. “If you say so… but remember, there’s only two of us now… we can’t rely on Isolde in a fight anymore. What you did back there was one thing… but I don’t think it’d work a second time. She’s too airheaded now.” “I know. Please. Stop.” The mantle of leadership was weighing down on the poor, cursed cleric. She never wanted to lead the group, she just wanted to tag along, blow up some things with a few fireballs, and feel like she belonged somewhere. And as much as she hated the role of healer and having to look after these idiots… she sorely missed it now that all hope rested on the cleric and the half-brained halfling. She wasn’t even sure she and Vico could defeat the Mistress, let alone whoever this ‘Nanny’ Lord was. Especially when it seems like this ‘Nanny’ has had her eyes set on Serrill since they entered the forest. Not only did Serrill have to try and beat the Nanny, but she had to do so in such a way that didn’t leave her fully corrupted and regressed like all the others of her group who faced their respective ‘Lords’, so that she could join Vico for the final battle and at least provide him some backup, otherwise it’s all resting on his shoulders… and there’s no way he’s able to do that alone. So, trudging through this narrow passageway, all her party members following behind her, she made her way to the staircase at the end, where there was a light coming through from the little window in the middle of the door at the top. “Right… here we are…” sighed Serrill, feeling exhausted after climbing the stairs. It wasn’t that there were many stairs, it was that she also had to carry the weight of her very full nappy, which not only made it hard to walk, but it felt… disgusting. She couldn’t wait to find a safe spot to change her nappy, to take a breather after what just happened. To assess their options and try to work out how best to tackle the next Lord. “Can you see?” Magnus asked from the back of the queue. “See what?” “See what’s through that window? See what the next floor is?” “I… one second…” Serrill had purposely avoided looking in, she was too nervous. Because whatever lay on the other side of this door… was designed for her. Or at least she was being adapted for it. Taking a deep breath, she looked into the little barred window and nothing could have prepared her for what lay on the other side of that door. “NOPE!” she yelled, turning around, trying to head back in the opposite direction. But due to just how narrow this corridor was, no matter how hard she tried to find a way past… she couldn’t get past her companions. “What’s up? What is in there?” Isolde replied in her new, bubbly tone. “Is it fun?” “It’s… ugh…” Serrill quickly looked down at Vico, who was standing right behind her. “Please… don’t let this floor take me.” “Why? What’s in there?” he asked, confused. “Promise me.” “I promise! Now can you go… you’re starting to stink out this passageway…” Taking another deep breath, Serrill turned around and pushed on the door, finding it heavier than she had expected it to be. “It’s so…” Vico trailed off as he looked around the open room. “Yellow…” Isolde said, finishing off his sentence. “And childish…” Magnus added. Serrill’s gasket blew. This was too much for her. “I SWEAR, I’M NOT BEING TURNED INTO A BIG BABY!” The walls were a bright yellow colour. It looked very playful and youthful, something you’d possibly see in a nursery in a castle somewhere. Images of teddy bears were printed on the yellow walls, all holding various coloured balloons. It looked a lot more like a Manor than a castle or spire at this point. No more brick walls, no more metals or stones or marbles lining the walls or floors. It was just straight up plastered walls painted bright yellow, with a light oak wooden floor. “This feels like a lobby though…” Magnus pointed out, looking around. “There’s no furniture here. No babyish things. It’s just a big open room with three other doors. These Lords do seem to love their hallways…” “So each room has something for me…?” Serrill asked, nervously, scared to know the answer despite already knowing it herself. “Oh look! Above the doors!” Vico noticed, pointing up in the direction he was looking. And just like he said, the rest of the party noticed that above the panel doors… were little signs. “That one says Nursery. So that’s obvious what that is,” Magnus pointed out. “The others… playroom? I assume there will be a bunch of baby toys there? And then… ‘Toy Room’... wait… so is that the storage for the playroom or is that another room just for toys? I’m confused.” “I… say we go to the nursery first…” Serrill suggested. “Why? I thought that would be the place you’d probably want to avoid the most,” replied Vico. “Because, Vico… if that’s a nursery… then there will be somewhere for me to change… right?” “Ah! Yes… good idea…” “Ma’am?” Magnus interrupted. “Maybe avoid any traps in there, if possible. Just use the facilities and leave. You’re already at breaking point.” “Oh believe me, Magnus, I don’t intend to get caught by any traps in here…” replied Serrill. “But wait, what do you mean ‘breaking point’?” “Ma’am… did you not notice the dummy in your mouth the entire time?” “I… WHAT?” Serrill quickly spit out the dummy into the palms of her hands. “Since… when?” “Since we first entered the corridor. You… you put it in and a blissful smile crept upon your face.” “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Because… Aurelia got that dummy to help you… I figured you would need it to fight, Ma’am.” Serrill thought about it for a second, before lifting the dummy back up to her face, slipping it into her mouth. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it was in there the entire time. To her it was just as if she was talking normally… but she must have been mumbling around the dummy the entire time. “You’re right. What difference does it make anyway…” Serrill sighed. “Anyway, you lot stay here, okay? Vico, Magnus, with me.” “Not that I don’t want to seem like I’m not happy to be needed, Ma’am…” Magnus began, as the three party members crept over to the door labelled ‘Nursery’. “But… Why am I needed?” “Aurelia entrusted you to change me if I’m too far gone. So I want you nearby… just in case… I can’t do it myself…” Serrill replied, sighing. “Then I’m happy to be of assistance, despite my inability for combat. And if I’m not needed for the intended task, I shall at least avert my gaze.” “Thank you, Magnus. And Vico… you need to watch our backs. Watch out for any signs of this ‘Nanny’ character. We know she’s after me… so we need to be ready to defend ourselves at a moment’s notice.” “Are you feeling any different?” Vico asked her. “What do you mean?” “Well Isolde got more… well… more like me… when we reached that floor. I was wondering if this floor was having any effect on you.” “Well there’s no music, and so far I haven’t sensed any traps. And I don’t feel different… but then Isolde didn’t either… so keep an eye on me, please?” “Gotcha,” Vico smiled at the elf, feeling sorry for her as she suckled her dummy. Reaching the door, Serrill gripped the handle and slowly twisted it, hesitantly opening the door and peeking inside. “It’s… a nursery…” “Well we expected that, din’t we?” Vico replied. “But what does it look like? Are there any traps?” “It’s… blue. There’s cloud motifs on the walls. There’s a white crib… and it’s big enough to fit a dragonkin! Also there’s a couple of stuffed toys sitting in the crib, and… oh! A changing table! Perfect!” “Do you have your supplies, Ma’am?” Magnus asked. “I… think so… let me just…” As Serrill opened the door to allow the others two to go in, she rummaged around her pack… only to find all her changing supplies had vanished. “SHIT!” “Language, Ma’am…” Magnus scolded her, making her feel two feet tall and worst of all… like a child. Her cheeks turned red as she quickly looked at the floor. “I assume you have no changing supplies?” “I… no…” “Then you’ll have to use the supplies under the changing table.” “Ugh… they’re probably cursed or something…” “I don’t believe they are, Ma’am. They look just like normal nappies…” “Let me check…” Serrill said, as she pushed past the maidservant paladin and the barbarian, storming into the Nursery. It was as she said it was, a cute little nursery with lots of blue and white furniture, cloud motifs on the wall, with a large crib, changing table and a rocking chair in the corner, all of which were big enough for even the largest of races. “I don’t sense any magic… wait… no… a bit of magic… but not much…” “Where from?” Vico asked. “Not the changing table actually…” “Then where?” “The crib… I think? Though…” “Be careful, Ma’am! It could be a Mimic! It could trap you in it…” “No… it’s not the crib itself… it’s…” She waddled over to the crib, grabbing the wooden side and pulling it down so she had access to the inside of it. Feeling a slight presence of magic, she began searching for it, only to find that it was coming from the toys placed next to the pillow. “It’s these toys…” “Be careful with them, Ma’am…” “They’re not traps… at least I don’t think they are… they’re…” Picking up the closest one, she examined it thoroughly. It was a cute plushie version of a female lionin, a lion-like race found in neighbouring kingdoms. Rarely would you see them in this part of the world, usually only found as mercenaries for travellers from said neighbouring kingdoms. She was a cute little lionin, with flowing red hair and blue eyes, a typical yellow-gold fur colour, and wearing what looked like a little plushie version of a paladin’s set of armour. The detail was incredible, or at least that’s what Serrill thought, as she admired the little details like the boots and gloves, and the sigil that was a perfect recreation of that she had seen on previous Paladin’s armour. The stuffie even had a little stuffed hammer and shield in her arms, which just made her even cuter. Looking at the label that was attached to the stuffie’s leg, Serrill read the text aloud… “Emily. She was a courageous little cub, but even her oaths couldn’t save her.” “That’s a weird thing to have on a tag. Oh my… look! She’s wearing a big nappy… like yours!” Vico blurted out, quickly recognising his mistake and covering his mouth. Serrill suddenly had a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. And it wasn’t because of all that mush she ate earlier. So quickly dropping the little lionin stuffie into the crib, she scrambled over and grabbed the other one. This one was a tiefling stuffed toy. Two dark horns with one of them broken in half, strappy armour, red woollen skin. Two little stuffed daggers, each one sewn into the stuffie’s hands. She looked like a little plush version of your average tiefling rogue. “Jessica. Thought she could sneak her way through. Not with how much she crinkles…” Quickly looking at the stuffie’s lower half… there was a noticeable bulge where her pants were. Serrill pulled them down slightly to see a thick nappy underneath them… one perfectly sized for a doll, just like the lionin stuffie had. That feeling in her stomach got worse. Which reminded her of her situation. “Right… change… quickly…” Serrill said, dropping the stuffie back onto the crib mattress, climbing off, and storming over to the changing table. ====================================================== So when I first started writing this story, I came up with a way to get my subscribers more involved. So I let them put their own characters in this story. I didn't tell them where their characters would be in the story, or what would happen to them. I didn't say anything about it other than that it may not be very nice... 👼 Also Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful few festive days. Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 30: Pressure Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess The squelching sound coming from the cleric’s stomach indicated something was wrong. Which immediately caused the elf to begin panicking once she realised it was probably the mush she just ate that was causing this. She knows that if she releases the pressure building inside her into the back of her nappy… there was no coming back from this curse. This would probably push her over the edge and she didn’t know how regressed she’d be after it. It was one thing having accidents, it was another to have accidents whilst sitting in a highchair, being fed disgusting mush, all whilst wearing a ridiculously humiliating bib. An accident in her nappy and she could just write that off as the curse causing her to have to take care of herself in a way she wasn’t used to, keeping her adult mind. But to do something so humiliatingly babyish in front of everyone, whilst being treated like the little baby she was regressing into… there was no doubting her new role after that. “D’awww…. Does someone need to go potty?” the Mistress said to Serrill in a sickeningly sweet and maternal voice. “Ugh… how does anyone get off on this…” the Satyr said, making a faux vomiting noise as he rolled his eyes and looked away in disgust. “Do you want to end up on the next floor?” the Mistress warned him. “The Nanny could always do with more toys. And I can always find a new Lord to replace you…” “I… sorry, Mistress. Won’t happen again.” “Remember. We don’t make fun of anyone’s… ‘special interests’. Unless they’re into that kind of thing, then by all means…” The Mistress watched as Serrill clenched her fists tightly, trying her best to hold it in. The elf didn’t even react when the Mistress deftly slipped her dummy into her mouth, instead she continued focusing on holding back the pressure, sucking her dummy without even caring. “Just… let go…” the Mistress whispered into the elf’s ear. “I… I can’t…!” Serrill cried out in pain, trying her best not to mess herself. “Why not?” “I… one more… question…?” “If I answer, will you finally let go so I can get back to perving on your attempt at defeating my tower?” Serrill nodded wildly. She just needed this to stop, but she had to know one last thing. “Fine. Let me guess… What is my weakness?” the Mistress replied, rolling her eyes and sighing. “N… no…” Serrill whined. “I want to… what… what I… what I want to know… is…” “Yes?” “What’s your… ‘special interest’…?” And with that, the floodgates opened. As the elf breathed a sigh of relief, the intense pleasurable feeling was quickly replaced by that of shame and humiliation… as she realised the back of her nappy was rapidly expanding. All the contents of that bowl of food she was just fed pushed everything into the back of her nappy… and what was worse… was that she didn’t immediately hate it. Now, she wasn’t sure if it was because of the curse or not, but Serrill, whilst feeling extremely humiliated right now, felt kind of… good? Like… the act of messing herself like this just felt… natural? Which scared the elf even more. “Such a good girl!” the Mistress cheered at the girl, clapping excitedly. “I… I… I can’t believe I just… did that…” “I can. Nanny’s curse is very powerful… and she makes the best baby food…” “I… what?” “Now, as for your question… I’m sorry sweetie, I know we had a deal, but I can’t answer that. Not right now anyway. You’ll find out more soon enough, if you manage to make it to my throne room. You make it there, I promise I’ll tell you everything. That okay, sweetie? But I promise… it’ll be worth it. Now all you’ve got to do is make it past this lunk, then past the Nanny… which is going to be tough. But I am a demon of my word, I’ll give you a clue as to how to beat this oaf I set as Lord of this floor. And then… maybe you can go upstairs and ask the Nanny for a change?” Serrill looked up at the Mistress, too nervous to move any other part of her body in case it jostled her nappy, which in turn would cause the mess to move… and she was not ready for that. “Yes… please…” “Fine then… and I’m not repeating this, so remember it, okay?” Serrill nodded at the beguiling demon. “He’s not the only one here who can play music…” “Huh…?” The Mistress didn’t reply, she just stood up, looked around the room, ending with her eyes firmly locked on her Lord. “Well… I guess I’m fucked now, then?” the Satyr sighed, going off on a ramble that only he himself could hear. “This is what I get when…” “If the little one heard me correctly and can put two thoughts together… yes, you’re fucked. But this is what you get for the last time you pissed me off. You know you can’t have…” “This is what I get for you playing favourites…” he said, cutting her off. “Excuse me?” the Mistress’ visage grew and grew, until it was at least three times as tall as it originally was, nearly reaching the ceiling of this enormously large dining room. The Satyr instantly backed down, knowing he didn’t stand a chance against his boss. “Ugh fine, you win… but I’m not going to go down easy for them.” “Good boy… I would be disappointed if you did,” the Mistress said, returning to her usual size once again, before turning to wave goodbye to the elf, snapping her fingers and disappearing in an instant. “Ugh… Fine. If I just defeat you now, I can ruin her plans… and I can ruin her potential toys before she even gets to play with them…” the Satyr said, out loud, not caring about the Mistress watching them from two floors up. This worried Serrill, because whilst she was probably destined for the next floor, to be the Nanny’s ‘toy’... it was clear that no matter what, the Mistress didn’t want this Lord to have his grubby little fingers on her. So it meant she was most likely going to make it past this floor relatively unharmed… at least no more than what she had already had done to her from the humiliating act she had just done in front of everyone. But now… now this Satyr clearly had no love for the Mistress, and would happily ruin any plans she had for the group… This guarantee of safety was no longer on the table for the elf’s group, so Serrill had to think… and fast. Because it was pretty much down to her and Vico at this point, and thinking wasn’t Vico’s strong point. “Not the only one… who can… play…” As Serrill began to repeat the words the Mistress left her with, over and over to herself, the Satyr took one final bite of his meal and then quickly stood up, kicking back his chair. “If I melt your minds with my melodies… ruin you before you can get to either of those two upstairs…” he said, searching around for his flute. “AHA!” Serrill cried out, trying her best to get out of the highchair, but finding herself stuck in it and unable to remove the wooden tray across her lap. “Vico, help me out of this thing, will ya?” “I… sure…” Vico replied, still a bit weirded out and sickened by what Serrill had just been made to do, gagging at the smell coming from the elf’s nappy. Grabbing his axe as he hopped off his chair, he ran over to the elf’s highchair and put one foot back as he pulled his arms back, readying himself to swing his weapon. And with as much strength as possible, he swung down with so much force it hit the arm of the highchair and instantly splintered the whole thing, causing it to fall apart around the elf, as she fell onto the ground below, her mushy nappy cushioning her fall. Squealing in disgust, Serrill quickly pushed this gross thing to the back of her mind, and scrambled to her feet, rushing as fast as she could over to where the bard was currently sitting, still stuffing her face. “Isolde… Isolde…!” “Wha?” the bard replied, half a turkey leg hanging out of her mouth. “Oh hey gorgeous! I love the outfit! It’s so cute! It’s so… you!” she said in a very ditzy, bubbly tone. “Can… Can you still play?” “Play what? Play with my boobs? You want to play with my boobs? Sure! I mean… they’re so much fun, right?” the bard giggled, bouncing her rather large bosom as she stared down at it. “No, play music!” “I… umm… like drum an stuff?” “Well we only have your lute… but sure, ‘drum and stuff’. Whatever. Can you play something for me?” “I… I mean… I guess? Maybe?” “Like… it’ll really make me happy if you do,” Serrill said, mimicking the bard’s new way of speaking. “And you’ll feel sooooo good, even more good than now!” “Like, really?” “Really!” “What… do I play though?” the bard asked. “What about that tune that’s been in your head this whole time? That’s such an amazing tune… you should totes play it.” It made Serrill feel gross even talking like this, but it seemed to be helping Isolde understand. “Oh! That one that made me feel really good?” “Yes! And you know what? You should play it for the Satyr over there. I think it’d really impress him, to show him what you can do.” “You think? Cus he’s hot…” “Yes, he’ll totally want to fuck you if you just play that tune you’ve had in your head. Play it for him… at him…” “I think I can do that. Umm… where’s my plucky thingy?” “Your lute?” “Yeah! Wow, you’re like… so clever! Especially for a giant baby!” Vico ran up to the bard with her lute in his hands, holding it up for her as she reached over and grabbed it. “Umm… how do I… do this again…?” Despite the bimbo bard losing so much of herself… there was one part of her, one part of her being that this spell the Satyr cast on her couldn’t erase. And that was her love of music. From a young age, she had learnt how to play this lute. Gifted it by her father, she adored this lute more than anything, and there was no way the muscle memory she had built up over the years had just gone. So despite not really knowing what she was doing… she began to perfectly mimic the song that was playing in her head. “I… where is that infernal thing…?” the Satyr roared, getting more and more frustrated as he struggled to find his flute, all the while Isolde played her little tune, losing herself to the music she was playing. “I… I know it… I know it was here… somewhere… I… what… what was I looking for again?” That last bit caught Serrill’s attention. “It’s working! Keep playing!” she said, cheering on the bard. “I… what was I doing?” the Satyr asked, before looking up at the party sitting around the dining table, looking surprised, as if he had completely forgotten they were even there. “Oh… you guys… do you… do you know what I was doing?” “You were going to show us the exit to the floor…” suggested Serrill, lying. “I was? I mean… I could totally do that…” He sounded just like Isolde at this point. It was working. Serrill’s plan was working! “Yeah, you’re the best at showing exits to people, right? You’re like the King of showing things to people…” “I AM!” the Satyr cried out, sounding more excited and hyped up than ever. “I am like… totally… the… the…” “King?” “Yeah! King! That’s me! King of showing things. Like…” “Where is the exit then, gorgeous?” Serrill asked, trying to pretend to sound impressed by this creep. “It’s… umm… that way?” he replied, pointing towards the stage. “Really?” “Yeah! There’s a door hidden behind the curtain! Like… I keep it hidden cus that way even if someone beats me they struggle to find the door and that's like super evil of me!” “Wow… this guy is so pathetic… I don’t know how we even struggled on this floor…” Serrill sighed, before turning to the bard. “Isolde? Keep playing your music until we’ve left, then catch up, okay? Think you can do this super important job?” “Uh huh!” Isolde said, excitedly. “Can do, boss elf… girl… cleric… thing… chick… yeah!” “Everyone, follow me…” Serrill said, ordering the rest of the group whilst trying her best to ignore the mess in the back of her nappy. And whilst she dreaded the next floor… she couldn’t wait for it, just because she’d have somewhere to change this damn thing… ====================================================== I know most of you will be busy on Wednesday, but don't worry, I'll still be posting the next chapter on schedule. Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Vico is the best, I'm glad people appreciate him 😊 Lots can happen between now and the end of the book... 🤭 They've got 3 bosses to kill. With just two of them left. I was so proud of myself with this story, and I'm glad that my intentions are being appreciated (with Isolde being the most hated despite her not actually being a villain, and the Mistress being loved despite being the antagonist), so thank you

Chapter 29: History Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “That’s not a question,” the Satyr replied, rolling his eyes at the elf. Serrill hesitated for a moment, before speaking up again to rephrase her last sentence. “I mean… Why does the Mistress collect people? How does she pick who to make a Lord? Does she have any weaknesses? What is her backstory? What made her build the tower?” “That’s not one question…” the Satyr replied, seeming unamused by his guest. “I guess it’s all technically just one question…” “No, technically it’s five. No matter how you phrase that, it’s five.” “Fine, what do we need to know about the Mistress, in order to defeat her?” asked Serrill, pouting at the Satyr as she took out her dummy and finally began to take a bite of the food in front of her. “So six questions… I give you one, and you ask six…” “No! I gave you my final answer, the last question I asked!” “And I said you can ask me one thing, little one…” the Satyr said, raising his eyebrow at the cleric, who felt like she had planted a giant target on her back at this point. “I… I’m sorry…” she whimpered. “Oh you will be…” grinned the Satyr, clapping his hands, before seemingly waiting for something to happen. As the Satyr waited, with Serrill nervously shaking in her seat, awaiting whatever outcome her indecisiveness and awkwardness had caused for her… an image began to materialise next to the Lord of this floor. An image that was all too familiar to them all by now. “The Mistress!” Vico cried out, spitting out a bit of potato as he sat up and pointed at the glowing red visage. But this time… it wasn’t just her bust that appeared, it was a full body apparition. Lifesize too, no longer the enlarged image used to intimidate the party on the lower floors. She stood a little taller than the Satyr whilst he was sitting down, and wore a long black strappy dress with a slit up one side of it, showing those gorgeous, slender legs of hers. And upon closer examination, she wore no shoes, instead she walked around barefoot. Her dark, curled horns stood out on top of her head, and her long dark hair reached all the way down her back. And like Aurelia, she had a long prehensile tail that forked at the end, swishing about behind her as she stood there, hands on hips, looking out into the dining room. She really was a demon. She shared a lot of features with Aurelia, but that was going to be obvious, given the tiefling’s infernal heritage that was mixed in with her human one. And Serrill… couldn’t keep her eyes off her. And to be fair, neither could Vico, Thistle, Herta nor Magnus… Aurelia would’ve done the same, but she was still too obedient, looking down at her meal that waited for her, unable to eat until she was told to, after everyone else has finished theirs. The Mistress sighed, before looking at the Satyr. “Seriously? What do you want now?” she said, snapping at her minion. “Oh beautiful Queen of mine…” he replied, trying to hit on his superior. “Stop trying to flirt with me. You don’t stand a chance. You’re lucky I even gave you a place here…” “Sorry, your Highness… but the elf…” “What about her?” the Mistress sighed again, before both her and the Lord turned to look at Serrill, making her feel two feet tall right about now. “She’s asking questions…” “Yes, and?” “About you…” Suddenly the Mistress’ whole demeanour changed. “Oh… did she now…?” she growled, staring intently at the elf, a grin forming on her beautiful face. “I said she could ask one question…” “As you always do…” “Exactly. And she ended up asking six…” The Satyr sounded like a total suck up at this point. A complete snitch. “Technically I only meant to ask the last one!” Serrill spoke up. The visage of the Mistress waved her hand in the direction of the cleric, and suddenly her dummy rose from the dining table and flew directly into her mouth, the teat popping itself in neatly. Serrill tried to spit it out, but quickly found herself unable to. “Now now, greedy baby…” the Mistress giggled. “Let the grown ups finish talking…” Even the Satyr was laughing at Serrill, making the poor elf’s cheeks turn bright red with embarrassment. She wanted to bury her face in her robe again, but there was no hiding the laughter, not without blocking her ears too… but even then, she’d miss out on vital information, the information she is currently suffering for. “So… you want to know about me, eh?” The visage of the Mistress walked around the table, past all of Serrill’s companions who had frozen in fear… if they weren’t already sat completely still like Aurelia and Thistle, that is… heading directly for the elf who sat at one side of the table end, near Isolde who was still stuffing her face and giggling. “I… just… wanted…” Serrill mumbled from behind her dummy. “To get some background info? So you could find a potential weakness and slay me?” “I… umm…” “WELL?” the Mistress raised her voice, making the poor, timid elf quiver in fear. “YES! BUT ALSO TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF PERSON RUNS A SPIRE LIKE THIS!” Serrill blurted out. The Mistress’ visage stopped still for a second, before continuing over to the elf, parking herself behind Serrill’s chair, and bending down so her lips were mere inches away from her pointy ears. “Well you only had to ask…” she growled lustfully into the elf’s ear. “BUT! I get something in return. I know the Nanny said not to push it too far… but I don’t like half-arsing things. So…” With a snap of her fingers, Serrill felt herself rising from the ground. But as she looked down, it wasn’t that she was being levitated like Thistle… no, the chair was going with her. But the legs were still firmly on the ground. Serrill’s legs began to dangle as she now stood another foot or so above where she was previously, at least vertically anyway. For some reason, the Mistress had made the chair she was sitting in taller… and the elf just couldn’t work out why… That was until Magnus walked over with a painted bit of wood, placing it in front of the elf, resting it on both arms of the dining room chair. “IS DIS… A HIGHCHAIR?” shouted Serrill, who was beginning to panic. “Such a clever baby…” the Mistress grinned as she snapped her fingers once again, causing a bib to appear around the cleric’s neck, one that simply said ‘Nanny’s Messy Baby’. “Nanny won’t be happy you’re playing with her…” the Satyr said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, and Nanny belongs to me. So in turn… Her toys do too,” the Mistress snapped at her minion. “She wanted the pleasure of corrupting the elf herself…” “Yes, well it’s different this time. So shut it, unless you want to end up on the next floor up too…?” The Satyr went deathly quiet. As if he knew what would happen if he was sent up there. “Who… deh Nanny?” Serrill asked, her dummy making it difficult to speak once again. “She’s the next Lord up. My second in command,” the Mistress answered. “Secon in comman?” Serrill mumbled. “But no more on her, you’ve still got to make it past this incompetent fool… and even then I wouldn’t spoil the fun the Nanny has in store for you…” the Mistress grinned, stepping around the highchair so Serrill could see her. Parking her perfectly shaped backside on the edge of the table, the Mistress leant back a bit, staring deeply into Serrill’s eyes. “I have high hopes for you…” “Huh?” Serrill replied, confused. Was… was the Mistress actually rooting for her? Did she actually want the elf to succeed and… kill her? “Maybe you’ll finally satisfy my lieutenant. She’s been looking for so long now…” “Wha yoo mean?” “Anyway, back to the original reason I was summoned here. You wanted to know about me, right?” “I… umm… uh huh?” “Then I’ll make you a deal. You finish one spoonful of what I’m going to give you, you get to ask a question. Each spoonful earns you another question. Finish the whole bowl, and I’ll even give you a tip as to how to beat this ridiculous goat.” “Not a goat…” the Satyr sighed. “And seriously? You’re just going to betray me like that and make me lose?” “They were going to kill you anyway. Despite looking like an overgrown infant… this little cleric packs quite a punch with her spells…” Serrill blushed at the compliment, squirming in her seat. “Deal!” Serrill called out, interrupting the pair. “Good girl! Look at you being so headstrong and confident!” Serrill wiggled once again, for some reason she loved the praise she was getting from the Mistress. “It’ll be even more fun to break you now…” Serrill’s eyes widened in fear as something magically appeared in front of her, on the tray of the highchair. It was a bowl of something… and it didn’t smell nice. Looking down, she saw an ornate porcelain bowl with a very infantile-looking pink spoon dipped into what looked like the most bland, boring grey mush the elf had ever seen. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and let Mistress feed you?” “I get… to ask questions… if I do… wight?” Serrill replied, nervously. “Yes, sweetie. I’m a demon of my word…” “Then yes. Let’s get dis over with…” As the Mistress’ visage took out the elf’s dummy, holding it in her free hand, the other hand holding the spoon full of grey mush moved towards Serrill’s mouth… and the elf took a deep breath. The Mistress thrust the spoon forward, into her mouth, causing the elf to close it and to take the bite… but the texture, the taste and the smell… all caused Serrill to instantly begin to gag. She wanted so desperately to spit it out. “If you don’t swallow it all… you get no questions… and no clue…” the Mistress warned her. Focusing all her will, Serrill quickly swallowed the grey goop, thankful that that first spoonful was done with, and only half a dozen or so remained… …at least until the aftertaste hit her. “EUGHHHHHHH!” Serrill’s face contorted in disgust as the taste shook her very soul. “Good girl! Now… What is your first question?” “Can… can I at least get something to wash it down?” “Yes, sweetie, here you go…” The visage of the Mistress, which whilst translucent still seemed to be able to interact physically with anything in the world, waved its hand, causing a baby bottle to appear in front of Serrill, resting on the highchair table. “Really?” Serrill sighed. “It’s that or nothing…” “Fine…” One look at the milk inside the bottle… and Serrill began drooling. Something about it… she wanted it so badly… no… she needed it. Grabbing the bottle, she stuffed it into her mouth and began suckling as if her life depended on it. It was very filling, but at least it washed away the aftertaste from the mush. And for some reason… it tasted way better than any other milk she had previously had in the past. Finally managing to release her lips from the teat after feeling relatively satisfied, Serrill took a big gasp of air and looked up at the Mistress. “So… what are you?” “Ah ah ah…” the Mistress said, wagging her finger at the elf. “What?” “You asked one question already.” “No I di…” Serrill then realised her mistake. Asking for the drink was technically a question… and even if this demon seems… different… from most demons, she’s still inherently a demon. And demons like to play tricks. “Fine. Another spoonful then.” “What’s the magic word?” Serrill sighed. “...Please.” “Good girl!” Another spoonful, a bit more milk… and the elf was ready to ask her questions. “What are you?” she asked. “I’m a demon.” “I’m going to need more information than that… that is barely a proper answer…” “Well I can’t be known for doing things half-arsed… fine, I’m a demon who escaped the Hells and set up my own little slice of Hell here. I am Lilith of Rianore. Queen of the Lost. Mistress of the Six. Happy now?” “...Yes, thank you. I…” before Serrill could finish her sentence, the Mistress’ visage shoved another spoonful into her mouth. Quickly swallowing it, then following it up with the bottle again, Serrill sighed, then thought carefully about her next question. “Why do you do this?” she asked. “What do you mean?” “Why do you have this spire? Why do you take seven of us? Why do you have your Lords?” “That’s a lot of questions…” the Mistress lifted the spoon again, but held it in place when Serrill quickly opened her mouth to argue. “It’s just that first question. I’m just clarifying it, like you asked…” “You’re a clever little baby…” the Mistress raised her eyebrow at the smug-looking elf. “Fine. I made this spire because I wanted to create something for myself. Somewhere I could call my own. Somewhere to escape the Hells, somewhere I could take other lost souls and give them a new home.” “What about the adventurers then?” “They…” the Mistress sighed. She hated that she was having to open up like this. She had never done so previously. She locked away all her feelings, all her emotions… for so long… “Look, it got lonely. Being on my own all the time… it was lonely. I brought the Lords in, thinking it would help, but it didn’t. Then the very first band of adventurers turned up on my doorstep… assuming there would be treasure to loot and monsters to slay.” “And?” “And… It was the most alive I felt in millenia. Even as the last one fell… I wanted that rush again. I preserved them so they didn’t die, handing them out to my Lords to keep them entertained. And then planned for future events. But I knew that if I took too many, too fast, I’d either run out quickly, or I’d be killed. Or even worse… it would get boring. So seven souls, every ten years.” “But why don’t you kill any of them?” “Because why would I waste perfectly good toys? They keep my Lords happy, and I get to watch as they are corrupted and twisted into perfect little pets and toys. They live forever in my spire, and that way my Spire doesn’t get haunted by all the ghosts of all those who fell.” “What about you?” Serrill asked, nervously. “What about me?” the Mistress asked, confused. “Do you have any… ‘toys’?” The Mistress stared at the floor, as if deep in thought. “...No.” “Why not?” “Because none of you are worthy to be mine.” “Who would be-” Serrill asked, before being cut off again. “You’ll find out more soon enough. I think that’s enough questions for now. And you owe me a whole bowl of mush… so open up…” Before Serrill could object, the Mistress’ visage began to shovel spoonful after spoonful into the elf’s mouth, making the poor girl swallow as quickly as possible. But as each spoonful was swallowed, it wasn’t the smell that was bothering the elf, it wasn’t the taste, it wasn’t the texture. It wasn’t even the speed at which the Mistress was feeding her… …it was the growing pressure in her bowels that caused the elf to worry. ====================================================== Does this chapter answer your questions? :3 Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 28: Dinner Party Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess Those words kept playing over and over again in Serrill’s head. She was destined for the next floor. Which meant… whatever Lord she was to face… was not far away, if they manage to make it past this Satyr. But this also meant that if she didn’t fight through this corruption that was slowly reducing her to a babbling infant, she’d just end up losing anyway, leaving Vico to not only defeat whatever creep was waiting on the floor above, but also the Mistress… all by himself. She couldn’t do that. She had to fight it. She had to not give in. So she gripped her staff tightly, ready for a battle against this bimbo-loving Satyr… when suddenly her target vanished in a cloud of smoke. “What the hell?” Vico yelled, gripping his axe tightly, ready for an ambush. “Now now…” the Satyr’s voice rang out throughout the whole dining hall. “No fighting… yet. I bet you’re starving, all of you. So why don’t we sit down and eat together? I’ve prepared a feast for you all, even those corrupted by my… associates. Please… sit.” That last word held more power than any of his previous sentences. And as the party all slowly wandered to the table, not fully in control of their legs… they quickly realised it wasn’t only the Satyr’s music that held power, but also his words. Isolde strutted over to the far end of the long, rectangular dining table, sitting at the end seat. The Satyr appeared in a puff of smoke to help the lady sit down, before walking around the table, helping each one find their seat. Even Thistle was helped, though they sort-of-hovered above their seat, still bound by the Dryad’s vines. And Herta didn’t have a seat, she just sat obediently by the table, hoping they’d give her scraps. One by one, the party sat at their predetermined seats, finding a little name placard in front of them in each of their places. “What are you playing at…?” Serrill asked, frustrated. Her anger was made less effective by the dummy still in her mouth, muffling her frustration and making her sound more adorable than threatening. Nervously, she sat down next to Vico, who also hesitantly placed his backside on the luxurious dining chair. They knew they should kill the Satyr as soon as possible, but since their friends were too close right now, they’d probably get injured in the fight. So they both gave in and took their seats, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take the Satyr’s head. “You deserve one last meal,” the Satyr began, “...before you all meet your fates.” “What makes ye so sure we won’t kill the demon bitch?” Vico asked, all whilst trying his best to break free from whatever hold was keeping him sat in his seat, albeit unsuccessfully. “Because no-one ever does. Many have tried. But you all fail. And by the looks of it… all the Lords have claimed their prizes so far…” replied the Satyr, looking around at all the corrupted group members. “And one more… though probably both of you two who remain… will fall on the next floor. I mean come on, one of you has already been mostly corrupted by now. All she needs is a simple push, and she’ll be filling the back of her infantile garment…” Serrill’s face turned beet red. “We’ll kill her! We’ll kill all of you!” Vico roared, thrashing about in his chair. “Good luck with that. No one has made it past the next floor. No-one.” A pit of dread filled Serrill’s heart. The Satyr probably wasn’t wrong. There were only two of them at this point. No matter how much she wanted to save Isolde… just one look at the red-headed bimbo made it very clear that there was no stopping it now. Her lips looked puckered and the new makeup that must have been magically applied looked… heavy, her hair had lengthened, her boobs were nearly popping out of her latex dress… There was no stopping it now. And with only two people… tasked with killing not only the Satyr, and whatever Lord has his eyes on the elf… but then also the Mistress herself… there was no way to save themselves, let alone reverse what is happening to poor Isolde. ‘Poor Isolde…’ the elf thought to herself, feeling bad that she got her into this mess, but also hating the fact that she still felt like the bard deserved this fate. The Satyr looked over at Magnus. “Do be a dear, little paladin, and fetch up some wine?” he said. “Yes, Master,” Magnus replied, quietly pushing his chair back and standing up, neatly pushing it back into place, and walking over to the sideboard on the other side of the hall. “Got to make the most out of that one whilst I have him!” the Satyr laughed heartily. “Anyway, begin! Eat! Enjoy! It will probably be your last meal… before… you know…” Serrill and Vico looked at the food that was beautifully displayed in front of them, laid out like a buffet. The empty, barren plates in front of them made it clear that they were supposed to help themselves to whatever they wanted, but still… they hesitated, unlike their companion, who greedily took what food they could and piled it up on their plate. I say plate… because it was only Isolde who was currently stuffing her heavily painted face. Aurelia was still too obedient and shy to say anything, let alone reach out to take any food. Thistle was still bound, and the Satyr had no interest in freeing them any time soon, not even to let them eat. Not that they needed to, the vines that entangled the druid kept them nourished and prevented atrophy… like a perfectly preserved statue. They didn’t need sleep, food, water or exercise. Oh and Herta… Well Herta was still waiting for those potential scraps. No, the only people who could enjoy this feast were Serrill, Vico and Isolde. Magnus too, once he had strutted back and poured everyone some wine like the good little maidservant he is. Though if the Mimic’s magic was applied correctly… Like a good maid, Magnus would need to wait until his Masters had finished eating before he could begin his meal. As Magnus poured blood-red wine from the bottle into the Satyrs cup, the Satyr looked at the cleric and the barbarian, who were still hesitant about eating the delicious food in front of them. Meats, cheeses, fruits… it was a veritable banquet on offer for them, but they felt like this was too… easy. “It’s not tainted,” the Satyr raised his voice. “It won’t cause, or worsen, any curses or magical effects. I genuinely want to provide you with a nice last meal. Because even if somehow you make it past me… you aren’t making it to the top. So make the most of my generosity… my charity… because it’ll be the last you’ll ever get. “Do ye sense any magic?” whispered Vico to his elven companion. Serrill wasn’t as skilled at detecting magic as Aurelia, but their warlock was still out of commission right now, so it was up to the elf to test the waters, so to speak. So, feeling out for any sign of magic coming from the food, she closed her eyes and concentrated. “I can’t sense anything,” she replied in whisper. “So… we can eat it…?” “I… think so. I think we should. We need all the energy we can get to fight the last three. Just… don’t stuff yourself. You’ll cause yourself to be bloated and you’ll be worse off in a fight.” “Got it. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the Satyr. I’m sure he’s got other tricks up his sleeves… or would if he was wearing any bleedin’ clothes, that is!” “We got this. We can do this,” Serrill bluffed. To Vico and to herself. As Vico stuffed a small pie into his mouth, barely taking any time to chew, Serrill watched the Satyr intently, trying to find any weaknesses or anything they could exploit… but so far, it looked like it was going to just be a straight up fight, which she was hoping to avoid if at all possible, as to preserve her magic and their energy for upcoming fights. Because the Lords can be beaten without fighting them. The Mistress though… she was going to be a whole other issue. There was no sweet talking that demon. There was no exploit to get out of fighting her. So if this and the next Lord can be beaten through other means… Serrill was going to try to take advantage of it. But so far… nothing. No weaknesses, no exploits, no tricks or games or anything. “Isolde…” Vico said, breaking Serrill’s concentration and making her look over at the halfling who was trying to communicate with their corrupted companion. “Vico, baby… what’s up?” Isolde replied in a bubbly, friendly tone, smiling at the halfling… which scared Vico, as the bard never smiled at him. “Are you… still… you?” “What do you mean? Am I not me? Oh my god… Wait, who is me then? Are you me?” she replied. ‘Vico’s got a competitor for least amount of brain cells, finally…’ thought Serrill, giggling slightly, before realising what she was doing and silencing herself. “No, what he means is… are you still able to fight? Can you still… remember anything about yourself?” Serrill asked her. “Umm…. like what?” Isolde replied, looking like her brain was being overclocked right now even holding up this conversation. “Like… Can you wield your weapon? Can you still play music?” “Umm… that stuff is for nerds…” Serrill sighed, hanging her head in defeat. It really was just the two of them left. Isolde was too far gone now. She was just as airheaded as she looked. “What’s got you down, little elf?” the Satyr interrupted, taking the cleric by surprise, causing her to squeak. “I… nothing…” “She’s going to be of no help. Her thoughts belong to me now. And… they’re gone. But don’t worry, your time will be soon. Though not by my hand. That’s if you even make it past me…” “What if we don’t…?” “Then I hand you off upstairs anyway, and the Mistress hands out all your friends to their respective Lords. If a Lord has corrupted them, more likely the Mistress will deign to give them to that Lord. Hence why we’ve all been choosing one.” “But if a party falls at any given Lord…” “Then the ones who haven’t been marked… they’re handed out to whomever the Mistress feels worthy of that soul, often to the Lord who bested the party. But as you’ve already been corrupted…” “I get given upstairs… great. What about Vico?” “He’ll probably end up upstairs too, in the… collection.” “Collection?” asked Vico, swallowing the large chunk of meat in his mouth. “Ah… spoilers! Let’s just say… the little elf here… is a rare pick. The last time they cursed someone… well… I don’t think they ever have.” “Wait… so I’m the only one to get this fucking stupid baby curse bullshit?” “To my knowledge, yes. All others who end up on the floor above… get added to the collection. Which is probably what will happen to your little angry friend here…” the Satyr finished off the contents of his cup, then indicated to Magnus for a top up, who gracefully walked over and began refilling his drink. “What makes me so special?” Serrill asked, sounding more pissed than before. “No idea. Way above my pay grade. All I know is… you’re taken for, little Miss. But don’t worry, you won’t be far from your little friend.” Vico and Serrill looked at each other, both fearing what was coming. That's if they even make it past this Lord. But by the sounds of it, it doesn’t matter if they fail on this floor, the next, or even against the Mistress… either way, they’ll end up on the next floor… belonging to whatever Lord occupies it. “I…” Serrill looked down at her plate, frozen in fear. “Don’t worry. I heard it’s going to be a cushy position for you…” the Satyr laughed. “I… can… can we ask you anything? I mean… come on… if we’re going to fail and end up as playthings for the rest of time for all of you, the least you could do is answer some questions…” the cleric asked, nervously. The Satyr stared at the bard next to her, expressionless, his smile disappearing in an instant. “I will not tell you what awaits you on the next floor, provided you beat me that is. There will also be other things I won’t or can’t talk about. But… because I’m in a charitable mood… and because you brought me this lovely gift of this treacherous bard… you can ask me one question.” Serrill thought about it long and hard for a second, even swiftly raising her palm up and slapping it over the halfling’s mouth to prevent him from speaking and wasting their one question. Which was a good call, he was about to ask where the bathroom was. “Think it over… but you’ve got until the end of the meal to a-” Before the Satyr could finish his sentence, the cleric jumped to her feet, knocking her chair back in the process, and stared at the Lord with determination in her eyes. “Tell me about the Mistress…” ====================================================== Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 27: Pink Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess Isolde was clueless. She really didn’t know what Serrill meant by ‘It’s obvious which one the Lord wants to see’. To her, it really wasn’t. Because to her… there were no indications as to what this Lord was into. The bedrooms were normal, the decor was normal, the hall was normal. There weren’t any traps, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Even that little tune that was playing through the floor wasn’t obnoxious or intruding. So the harness was out of the question, unless there was something she was missing, the maid uniform made the most sense to her… but Magnus was already cursed to be a maidservant, and she doubted that the Lord would copy a previous Lord’s curse. The regal outfit… maybe he wanted a Princess? She should be a Princess… But then she looked once again at the outfit at the end of the bed. The one Serrill pointed out and said was perfect. What was it about a pink latex outfit that screamed ‘Lord’s interest’? It looked like the skimpiest dress, that would barely cover her hips, not going anywhere close to her knees and barely touching her thighs. It was strappy and shiny and… something about it was so… alluring. It had matching high heels, ones that looked almost deadly. I mean… a shiny pink stiletto shoe in the right hands could be as dangerous as a dagger in this part of the world. Isolde would most likely struggle to walk in those, they were even worse than the ones Magnus was currently being forced to wear. There was nothing else to the outfit, just the shoes and the strappy latex dress. And without hesitation… Isolde grabbed it, clutching it tightly. “I… I’ll go chan- I’ll change into it right now!” Dropping her pack on the ground, she began taking off her armour and shirt, unbuttoning her blouse as the rest of the party quickly cottoned on to what she was about to do. “ISOLDE!” they all shouted at her, causing her to stop suddenly and look around, confused. “What? You said change…” “In private! You don’t have to strip here!” Vico snapped at her. “Ah who cares. Look at half of our party… they’re already naked and we just carry on like it’s normal!” she replied, before continuing to strip down to her underwear. Vico and Serrill turned away, trying to give the bard a little bit of privacy despite her sudden apathy, whilst Magnus continued watching. He wasn’t staring or being a creep though, not a single impure thought crossed his mind, he was simply waiting to be of assistance should the bard need it, as that was his job now. Herta didn’t care, she was too busy chewing on the corner of the bedding. Aurelia was still averting her gaze from everyone, so she was busy staring at the floor. And Thistle… Well Thistle couldn’t help but stare at the half-naked bard, unless someone turned them around to face the other way as they still couldn’t move. So they did what little they could, at least closing their eyes to give some privacy, despite really wanting to watch the bard go further down the rabbit hole like they had. “Serrill… sweetie… can you help me with…” “CAN’T MAGNUS HELP?” Serrill shouted, avoiding turning back around just in case Isolde was still naked. “I guess so… Magnus, doll, mind giving me a hand slipping this…” “With pleasure, Ma’am…” he said, rushing over and helping the bard get into the skin-tight latex dress. It was a bit of a squeeze, but they managed to work together to get the bard into the dress. And once she had slipped the shoes on, her transformation was complete. “You can turn around now,” Magnus instructed. “Ta da!” Isolde said, posing very provocatively in her skimpy latex outfit. As the others turned around, their jaws quite literally dropped in shock, their eyes open wide. “I…” was all Vico could get out. “ARE YOUR BOOBS EVEN BIGGER NOW?” yelled Serrill, pointing at the bard’s chest. “You like, hun?” the bard replied, winking at the blushing elf. Serrill did like them. But not for any normal reason. Whilst Vico stood in shock, admiring the bard’s larger-than-normal bosom… the cleric, for some reason, couldn’t stop thinking about pressing her face into them… and suckling. Though we all know the reason for it, and even Serrill knew at this point… she couldn’t stop thinking about it, despite knowing why she was thinking it. “You wanna test ‘em out, darlin’?” Isolde said, sounding more… bubbly than usual. A little bit of drool escaped the corner of the cleric’s mouth. “I… I shouldn’t…” Serrill replied, quickly grabbing her dummy and shoving it back in her mouth. “Well, why don’t we get this show on the road then?” Isolde said, walking out of the bedroom effortlessly, as if she had a lifetime’s experience walking in these shoes. “She… forgot her pack…” Vico pointed at the pile of clothes that had been thrown on Isolde’s backpack. “Magnus, mind grabbing her stuff? Just stuff her clothes into her pack, hopefully we can get her back to normal and back into her usual clothes once we’ve defeated the Lord,” Serrill called over to the paladin. Nodding, Magnus began folding each part of Isolde’s previous outfit, before placing them neatly in her pack and heaving the heavy pack onto his shoulder. “Ye sure this plan will work?” Vico asked Serrill as the rest of the party followed Isolde back into the hallway. “I think so. At least I’m making an educated guess.” “She does seem to be acting mighty corrupted…” “Did you see her rack? Her boobs have grown, I swear. Which means I’m right. Whatever this Lord is… he’s into what I assume he’s into…” “And that is?” “Well isn’t it obvious? He wanted a bimbo. She’s being slowly corrupted. She even mentions music… have you heard anything since we reached this floor?” “No, not a peep. Just our footsteps.” “Exactly. But she’s mentioned hearing music multiple times now. I think she was chosen as soon as she stepped foot on this floor. Then there’s the mistakes she’s been making… and she’s been acting more ditzy…” “You make a good point. But… isn’t that a bit cruel? Making her curse worsen by making her dress up as what the Lord wants her to be?” “After what she did to Aurelia? No. But even then… I’m not that cruel. We’ll try to save her and stop her transformation into brainless bimbo by killing the Lord before he can finish the job, but I think we need to let her do this to get us past this repeating hallway.” “I hope you’re right… if she stays this way… she won’t be much of a fighter. Which leaves us with two capable fighters, you and myself…” Vico sighed. “Think the two of us could defeat the Mistress? Especially with… umm… your ‘condition’?” “I’ll be fine. As long as it doesn't get worse over the next floor or two. All I need is a couple of my strongest spells… and the Mistress is toast. You keep her distracted. Simple.” “I hope you’re right, lass.” “So… which way are we going?” Isolde asked, her voice sounding even more bubbly and airheaded, as she looked around the hallway, ignoring the obvious door in front of them that they had entered countless times. “Has… the door… changed?” Magnus asked. “I think it has. Look, the handle is on the other side of the door now…” Serrill commented, pointing at the change. “So it’s open now? We won’t just run into the same problem?” “Let’s go!” Isolde said, strutting forward, confidently. …As she walked in the wrong direction. “Isolde, this way…” Serrill quickly grabbed the bard’s arm, turning her around. “Oh, silly me. I meant to do that… totally…” “Oh wow…” Serrill sighed, knowing this new bimbo-bard was going to be difficult to deal with. But at the same time… despite knowing it was wrong of her to think this… she couldn’t be happier with the bard, and part of her wanted Isolde to stay this way… for good. “Thanks, darlin’,” replied Isolde, turning on the spot and heading in the direction Serrill had pointed her. Letting Isolde take point, Serrill quickly followed behind the bard, with Vico close behind her, whilst the rest of the party hung back a bit, letting the others go first now that they were all non-combatants. Isolde too, would probably be in this group now, if she wasn’t needed to open the door. Grasping the door handle, Isolde’s head felt… lighter… as she clutched it tightly and pushed… “It worked!” Serrill cried out, jumping up and down in excitement. And as the door slowly opened, and the new room revealed itself to the party, everyone’s hearts dropped at the sight of their next opponent… “Well… aren’t you going to come in?” the Lord growled, grinning menacingly. Large, muscular chest. Arms large enough to crush a man’s skull. Ridged horns that curled backwards. Wild, unkempt brown hair that seemed to surround their whole head, with a matching goatee… …And the unmistakable legs of a goat… …Indicated that their foe was indeed… a Satyr. He was just sitting there in a large, plush armchair, with his furry legs crossed, playing a flute. This chair was on top of a large, ornate, gilded stage, which itself was in a rather large dining room. One that would only be seen in the most well-off of royal castles and estates. Between the party and the Lord stood a large dining table, long enough to span the whole dining room, with enough seats to fit a wedding party… and then some. And on that table, lay a veritable feast, one that left every single party member nearly drooling at the sight of it. Everyone but Isolde anyway, who was lusting after something else. “I see you solved my little puzzle,” the Satyr replied, with a velvety voice. “You wanted a bimbo. I brought you a bimbo…” Serrill replied, with a newfound confidence that she had embraced after her closest companion was betrayed and she had been forced into the role of leadership. “That I did… and may I say, she looks positively delicious…” the Satyr growled, grinning at the bard. Isolde giggled as she blushed and stared deeply into the Satyr’s eyes. “But you’re not getting her… she’s our bimbo. Even if I want to throw her into the deepest pits…” Serrill growled, trying her best to appear intimidating. “I heard about what she did to your warlock companion. That's why I picked her,” the Satyr grinned at the elf. “Huh?” “Oh I normally go for those with lots of charisma. You know the ones, those who think they can get out of anything with their words. So that’s what I do… I take their words away from them…” “Oh… yeah… you would’ve gone for her anyway,” Serrill replied, rolling her eyes and sighing, sucking away at her dummy. “Yes, but after what she did… I knew I just had to have her for my collection. Sweet talking her way past that Succubus whore… oh I just had to take her words! And then, you, my sweet little cleric… you went and solved the puzzle… Usually, those who make it this far up the tower don’t end up making it out of that hallway. Their brains turn to mush and they become the perfect little bimbo for my collection. If you weren’t already claimed… I would have loved to have taken that intelligent mind of yours…” The Satyr eyed the cleric with lust, something that made Serrill feel uneasy. “So it’s not only those who smart-talk their way out of things? You like to take intelligent people and turn them into brainless bimbos?” “Exactly. You get it. I like to take what people are most proud of, and take it away. Reducing them to a brainless, bubbly bimbo. And hey, what bimbo doesn’t look good in latex, which makes me wonder how you solved it so easily…” Serrill looked around nervously, not saying a word as the Satyr continued. “Maybe you really are that intelligent… Solving what has only been managed by a couple dozen or so people… Which makes you so tempting…” Isolde was getting frustrated that this hot, muscular Lord was paying more attention to the silly brainy cleric than her… especially after she dressed up just for him! So she pouted and stamped her little foot, her large bosom bouncing with her sigh. Serrill, however, was too intimidated and focused on the Lord to notice what was going on with the bard. It felt very much like if she hadn’t been cursed already, she would’ve ended up as a possible trophy of this Lord instead of Isolde. Despite having the puzzle solved for her by the Mistress, she was one of the most intelligent party members, often solving puzzles when no one else could. The Satyr sighed, before putting his flute down on the arm of the chair and standing up. “But alas, you are destined for the next floor…” ====================================================== 😊 Happy with the new and improved Isolde? Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 26: Auntie Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “I’ve never done this before. I wish they left some part of Aurelia in there still, at least enough of her to be able to take care of these disgusting things…” Isolde said as she removed the pins from Serrill’s nappy, unfolding it and laying it out, leaving the cleric naked below the waist. Serrill wanted to complain, she wanted to fuss and tantrum and run from the bard, but the bard was a grown up… which meant that grown ups do things like this… right? It was getting harder to tell what was the curse and what was actually real, at least in her mind. So as the bard sang along to the tune in her head, the cleric just allowed her to wipe her most sensitive, private area with a wet cloth. “I think this is right, right? I’m so forgetful sometimes…” Isolde said, giggling quietly to herself. “Uh huh…” “Such a good widdle baby! You lay there and let Auntie Isolde take over everything. You keep us healed up and that’s it. If your mind regresses so much you can’t walk or talk… then so be it. As long as I reach that throne room of hers…” “Huh?” “I’m going to take control. I will have power. I will have my shot. And you are not going to stop me. I know you all swore you’d work together to get to the top and defeat the Mistress… but what then? What happens to the reward? You try to split it? How’s that going to work?” Isolde continued wiping before grabbing the elf’s ankles, lifting them up, and subsequently her bum, into the air, allowing the bard to slip a clean nappy underneath. “Good job Aurelia kept spares. Otherwise you’d be pissing all over the floor, puddles. Yes, puddles… that’s what I can call you…” Serrill just blushed and hid her face behind her robe sleeves. Humming along to her little tune, Isolde couldn’t stop smiling as she quickly changed the cleric’s nappy. She wasn’t very good at it, it was very much going to fall down at the first sign of a heavy wetting… but she didn’t care about that. She was just happy that one of the Lords had picked the cleric to be his little baby. Because that not only eliminated Serrill from the competition, but also meant she didn’t have to lift a finger to make it happen, it was all done for her. She just had to wait. “There… I guess that’ll do…” Isolde announced as she got up from the bed they were using as a changing table, grabbing her pack and walking off, not even helping the thickly padded elf up. I say thickly padded because upon first glance, Isolde knew she’d just have to change the elf again soon. And whilst she enjoyed humiliating the timid girl, it was disgusting and weird for her to change the grown woman’s used nappies. So… she put four of them on the girl, each one pinned over the previous one. This caused Serrill’s legs to bow, the thick padding making it nearly impossible for the poor elf to even sit up on the bed, let alone walk. If it wasn’t for Magnus walking in once Isolde had left, helping the girl up off the bed and helping her adjust her gait to fit this new bulky padding between her legs, Serrill would have just been stuck there on the bed, unable to move. “Thank you, Magnus…” Serrill said, her words muffled by the dummy still in her mouth. “You should’ve let me do it, little Miss. You know Mistress Aurelia said she wasn’t to change you…” “I… couldn’t help it… I… I just… she had full control…” “The curse, little Miss?” Serrill had noticed the change in honorifics. No longer did Magnus use ‘Ma’am’, now she was ‘Little Miss’. Which totally wasn’t humiliating her further… nope… Now even Magnus was treating her like a little kid, and Serrill worried that with Isolde in charge, there was no way she’d get help trying to fight off the curse. No, Isolde will most likely further the curse, pushing her further and further… until she breaks. Until she regresses completely and loses her adult mind. Something the elf was desperately trying to hold on to. It was hard though, she could feel a fog trying to creep its way into her brain, one that either made her want to giggle or cry at everything. “Coming, puddles?” Isolde called out behind her as Serrill waddled through the doorway, rejoining the rest of the party, who all looked at the elf with sympathy in their eyes. “I think we should take this…” Vico was just about to call out something, but Isolde ignored him and continued off into the furthest door again, causing everyone to shrug their shoulders and follow the bard through. “It’s the same! Same corridor!” “We know that…” Vico replied, sighing. Even his two brain cells had realised what was going on. “Yeah… I knew that… was just… testing you… yeah…” Isolde snapped at the halfling. “Shut up. I’m clever. I know what I’m doing.” “Do you…?” mumbled Serrill behind her dummy, snarkily. “What was that, puddles?” Isolde stormed over to the cleric, pushing her up against the wall, looking pissed. “I… umm…” “I said… what was that?” “I said… you do?” lied Serrill. “Oh! Okay!” Isolde smiled, and all anger faded from her in an instant. “Cool! Right. So… this door then?” She headed in the same direction once again, heading towards the end door, opening it and walking through it. “It’s the same! Same corridor!” “We know, we just told you…” “You did? Sorry, I’m so forgetful sometimes…” the bard giggled. “Mistress Isolde… are you okay?” Magnus asked. “Of course! I’m super!” Isolde grinned back at him. “It’s just you seem…” Vico began, trailing off at the end. “Seem what?” “...different.” “Me? Different? What do you mean?” Isolde cocked her head to the side, confused. “I mean… umm… so what door do we take then?” “The end one, silly!” Vico turned to the rest of the party. “So you see this, right?” he whispered, so Isolde couldn’t hear. “I know I’m not the smartest here. I know you all make fun of me for being a bit… dumb… but something seems off with Isolde, right?” Serrill nodded, not saying a word as everytime she opened her mouth, the dummy in it made her sound more and more babyish. “She does seem a bit… forgetful,” replied Magnus. “What do we do?” “Well either there was a trap we missed somewhere… or the Lord of this floor isn’t after Serrill… and has already picked their target…” “Whatcha chatting about?” Isolde said, hopping a foot or so into the group circle, still smiling. She seemed so much more bubbly than usual. “Just… Isolde…? Do you feel… off at all?” Magnus asked the bard. “Off? Like food? I like food! Have you got any?” “Yup… something is off,” Vico sighed into his palm. Herta barked and went over, sniffing the bard’s leg. “PUPPY! I love puppies! Arf arf arf!” Isolde giggled as she began playing with Herta, who rolled onto her back for tummy rubs. “She sounds so… weird. And not Isolde-like.” Vico said, staring at the bard’s very unusual behaviour. “So the Lord has his sights on her…” Serrill said, finally speaking up after taking her dummy out. “Clearly. But how do we stop it?” “Part of me doesn’t want to stop it.” “Serrill… don’t. I know she’s a…” Vico turned to make sure Isolde was occupied, unable to hear them, before turning back to the group, “...two faced bitch… but we need all the people we can get if we want any hope of defeating the Mistress.” “Fine. But that means we need to get to the Lord, and quickly. How do we do that?” As the party began brainstorming ideas for how to solve whatever this puzzle was… Serrill felt something warm in her hand, the one resting over her nappy. Firstly assuming that it was just yet another accident, she initially ignored it. But when she went to lift her hand up to pop her dummy back in her mouth, she felt something occupying it, something that wasn’t the dummy and definitely wasn’t there before. Opening her hand, she saw a little folded up note. “Huh?” she mumbled to herself, looking closely at the note in her hand that she swore wasn’t there before. Nervously opening it up, she read it to herself in her mind, as she wasn’t sure this should be something she needed to share with the rest of the group, especially not Isolde… ‘If you want to be invited to Dinner… you need to dress for the occasion… or at least one of you does…’ -Mistress The cleric stared at the piece of paper, unsure as to why the hell the Mistress was apparently… helping her? She had the right mind to just throw the piece of paper away. It could be a trick or a trap… But as she began closing her hand to crumple the paper up, another message burned itself at the bottom of the note. ‘I don’t like betrayers. Think of this as… punishment… for what she did. She doesn’t deserve what lies at the end of your journey. Now be a good girl and help the bard get dressed for dinner…’ She shouldn’t trust the Mistress… right? But… she wasn’t wrong. Isolde had betrayed them all, especially Aurelia. She didn’t deserve power and riches. She didn’t deserve anything. What she did deserve… was the same fate Aurelia had. This… this wouldn’t count as betrayal, right? Especially if they manage to kill the Lord that is affecting her before he can fully corrupt her… so maybe Serrill can use the tip from the Mistress… but then do the right thing and save the bard before she’s fully corrupted? Yeah! That would be perfect! “Fine… but I’m saving her. Even if she’s a bitch to me, I’m saving her,” Serrill whispered into the ether, hoping the Mistress was listening. “I… have an idea…” Serrill mumbled behind her dummy, causing the party to all stop and look at her. “What is it?” Vico asked. “Well what one thing in each of the bedrooms have we seen but not actually investigated?” “The be…” “I got changed on the bed. It’s normal. No, I’m talking about the wardrobes…” “What about them?” “Maybe we need to dress up to make it through the door?” “That’s a stupid idea,” smirked Isolde. “I believe she may be right…” Magnus added. “There are no traps, no enemies, nothing. It’s just room after room, repeating the same corridor. There are no switches or puzzles. What if we have to be in a certain form in order to pass through to whatever the Lord’s chamber is? I mean it’s worth a shot, Ma’am.” “So what… we just get dressed up in whatever freaky outfits this perv has, then we get to go through the door?” Isolde asked, hands on her hips. “We might as well try it…” mumbled Serrill. “Ugh… fine.” “But why don’t we just try it with one person, just to see if that’s enough to open the door?” “And who would that be?” “Well you love to be the one in the spotlight…” Serrill said, trying her best not to sound suspicious to the bard. “I guess…” The rest of the party all looked at Isolde. This was confirmation something was up with her, as she would never, not in a million years, offer to be the one to test out a plan like this. Sure, she did actually love the spotlight, but she was too cowardly to ever earn it without stealing it from someone else. “Why don’t we see what is in the wardrobes? And then we can see what kind of thing will unlock the real door…” Magnus suggested, grabbing Isolde’s wrists and dragging her off into the first bedroom. After raiding all the wardrobes from the many bedrooms located off this hallway, they put all the outfits they found into one room, laying them out on the bed for them all to compare and judge which one the Lord would probably like most. There was a black leather harness with matching collar, a maid uniform that matched the one Magnus was currently wearing, a regal dress that wouldn’t look amiss on a Queen or Princess, half a dozen normal-looking outfits… Serrill went through each outfit in her head, wondering what kind of freak this next Lord was going to be. “Well clearly it won’t be the maid. That was the Mimic’s choice. The harness seems more akin to the succubus’ or the houndmaster’s preferences. The normal outfits are a waste of time…” “What about naked?” Vico suggested. “I’m not going naked!” Isolde cried out, slapping the back of the halfling’s head. “I think it’s obvious which one the Lord wants to see…” Serrill sighed, looking at the last outfit, the one perched on the end of the bed. “It is?” ====================================================== 😊 Happy now? Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 25: Charisma Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess Serrill nervously walked towards the new door, the one that was most likely the passage to the next floor, with the rest of the party following close behind. It was weird to her, having everyone following her for once, she wasn’t used to a leadership role. But after what Isolde did… no-one could trust that deceitful bitch, and Vico was as dumb as a rock. And with the others corrupted… The mantle of leadership rested solely on the cleric’s shoulders. Even if she was slowly being corrupted herself. She no longer felt comfortable near Aurelia. Knowing that the tiefling was now programmed just to ‘service’ anyone… like sure, she felt some kind of attraction to the warlock, there was no doubt about that, but unlike Isolde… Serrill had a moral compass. She wasn’t going to take advantage of Aurelia in her current state. That would be wrong. On so many levels. So for now, she was going to keep her distance and watch her words carefully. She also was going to have to keep an eye on Isolde. Though not Vico, she trusted the halfling not to make a move on the vulnerable and suggestible tiefling. But Isolde... Isolde would sell her Grandma for a trinket. She would trade someone else’s soul for a sweet treat. She would not hesitate to use the vulnerable warlock for her own selfish pleasure. Which made the whole ‘keeping Aurelia at arms length’ thing kind of difficult. “So… next floor… what are we expecting?” asked Isolde, breaking Serrill’s train of thought. “I’m expecting you to stab us in the back and run off,” snapped Serrill, who ignored the bard and firmly gripped her hand on the door handle, pulling it with all her strength. “Ouch… Look, I did the clever thing. I got us past this floor with minimal losses…” “YOU CALL AURELIA MINIMAL ONE MORE TIME AND I’LL SCORCH YOUR-” Vico stepped in between the two women and held his arms out. “Ladies… stop. We need to work together.” “Work together… with her?” replied Serrill. “Yes. We don’t know what kind of Lord we’re facing on the next floor. We need to be ready.” “Look at Vico’s brain cells working in overdrive…” Isolde joked, finding a very blank-faced stare from everyone else in the party… even Herta. “Let’s just go…” Serrill snapped back. “I think… we’re not in the basement anymore…” commented Isolde as they all walked into this new, rather large hallway. “Huh?” asked Serrill. “Look. Furnishings. Actual furnishings. Drapes. Portraits. There’s even a rug!” She wasn’t wrong. The entrance to the spire was designed to be lavish, luxurious… opulent. It was meant for visitors… and victims… as they entered. However, the floors were designed around the individual Lord’s tastes. Stables and kennels for the Houndmaster, a treasure room for the Mimic, a garden for the Dryad, a dungeon for the Succubus. Some of these were lavish, some were cold and dank. But none of them were places you would find someone living in. This fifth floor, however… This floor was more akin to something royalty would live in. There were seats, rugs, little potted plants on tables… and as the bard adequately stated, actual furnishings. The walls were of a similar design to the Mimic’s floor, as were the polished dark marble floors. The red drapery hung from the ceiling, adding even more opulence to this already luxurious floor. A long red carpet spanned the whole of the long hallway, with ornate doors with golden trim lining the walls all the way down. Its layout was similar to that of the dungeon, though as Isolde twisted the handle of the first ornate door nearby, they all realised it was still vastly different. “Empty…” Isolde sighed. “Empty?” replied Vico, readying his axe as he waddled over to the room Isolde had just opened. “Just a stupid rich person’s bedroom…” “Oh wow… imagine sleeping in those beds…” Serrill waddled over to join them (though this was for far different reasons than the stout halfling). “This must be the guest’s quarters…” “She has guests?” scoffed Isolde. “Well I assume so. Otherwise why have these rooms?” “What was that?” Isolde asked, turning to the cleric with a frown on her face. “I said why have these rooms…” “No, I mean what you said after… nevermind,” Isolde sighed, before turning her attention away from both the cleric and the room, continuing on to check the other doors. Serrill shrugged and walked off, towards the furthest door. If any of these doors were to lead anywhere, that would be the one to use. But as she reached the door, she felt a nervous unease about her, as if maybe she shouldn’t. It wasn’t the same feeling Aurelia had on the previous floor, it was just Serrill’s anxiety acting up, making her doubt her leadership skills. Because she’s never had to lead the group before, even when Aurelia wasn’t around… Magnus or someone else took over. There was always someone else to do it. Aurelia was usually the leader, then Magnus, then Herta, then Thistle. But all those are currently out of commission. So after Thistle… next in line for leadership was probably Isolde, but after her most recent betrayal… she could no longer be trusted with anyone’s safety. And Vico is just too empty-headed to take over as leader. So… the mantle has fallen on poor Serrill’s shoulders, something she wished would never happen. So as she reached for the ornate gold handle… she hesitated, quickly withdrawing her hand, and turning back around, before rushing back over to her friends who were all gathered up together in the middle of the lavish hallway. “What’s up, Ma’am?” Magnus asked Serrill. “I… can’t do it.” “Can’t do what?” “I… I can’t lead. I need… I need Aurelia…” Aurelia clenched her fists in front of her naked body as Serrill stood in front of her, looking like a sad puppy. “Aurelia… please… please talk… I know you can. I’m giving you permission!” Serrill cried out, tears forming in her eyes as she grabbed the warlock’s wrists and squeezed them. But no words were spoken. “I don’t think she can talk anymore, Ma’am,” replied Magnus. “It appears she is in a purely submissive state, unable to talk or act for herself. Serrill stood there for a moment, before realising something. Aurelia was mute. Thistle was gagged. Herta was mindless. All she had was the paladin… or Vico. She had no-one to talk to anymore. No-one she could trust or ask for advice from. This festered inside her, making her release her grip on Aurelia’s wrists, clenching her own fists in frustration. “SO I’M STUCK WITH YOU? YOU, THE FUCKING SELFISH PRICK WHO ONLY CARES ABOUT HOW SHINY HIS FUCKING ARMOUR IS?” “I apologise if I did anything to offend you, young Miss…” “IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU SHE WOULDN’T BE LIKE THIS!” “I…” “FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU ALL! I LOST MY BEST FUCKING FRIENDS AND NOW I’VE JUST PISSED MYSELF FOR THE THIRD TIME SINCE I GOT CHANGED AND I CAN’T STOP THIS URGE TO SHOVE MY THUMB IN MY FUCKING MOUTH. I’M GOING TO BE CURSED TO BE A FUCKING ADULT BABY JUST BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PLAY FUCKING HERO!” In a fit of pure anger, Serrill turned back towards the door, marched up to it… and kicked it down with a strength no-one thought she had. Not kicked open… kicked down. Off its hinges. “Serrill, are ye okay?” Vico asked, waddling up behind her. “I’m going to destroy this fucking Lord. Then the next. Then the next. I will destroy. Them. ALL!” she growled, clutching her staff as her knuckles turned white. Marching on, Serrill continued into the following hallway, leaving everyone else just standing there, in shock. “Isolde… we’re going. Everyone… Come on… we can’t let her do this alone…” Vico said, waving the rest of the group over. The next hallway was the same as the previous one. “Don’t bother with the other doors. We go through the far one. Again,” growled Serrill, stomping forward, her wet nappy making her waddle slightly. She wanted so desperately to put the dummy back in her mouth, but her anger towards this place, towards the Mistress… somehow tempered the curse. For the time being, anyway. “I’m going to have a little look anyway… the rooms may have some loot…” the bard said, grinning at Vico as she slunk off to the side, opening the closest door to her. “Do ye really want to anger the elfling?” Vico asked, nodding his head in the direction of where Serrill was currently charging toward. “Like I give a shit. She’ll be regressed fully soon enough. Then it’ll just be the two of us. Fuck her.” “But her spells… she… she could actually stand a chance against the Mistress…” “And we can’t?” “Yer a bard. Ye really think your songs are going to defeat the Mistress?” “Probably not. But their songs are crap anyway, it seems. Wish they’d play something else.” “Huh?” asked Vico, staring at the bard, who had turned their attention back to the room they had just opened. “Nothing here. Just more guest rooms. Let’s catch up with the little baby. I bet she needs a change soon…” Isolde giggled, closing the door and wandering past Vico, trying to catch up with Serrill. This repeated for a few hallways. They’d enter, Serrill would head to the end door, Isolde would go inspecting the other rooms, whilst Vico escorted the rest of the party close behind. It was after hallway four that they finally realised something was up. “Is this… is this just repeating?” Serrill asked, looking back at the group. Aurelia nodded, still avoiding eye contact. “WHAT THE FUCK?” screamed the elf in frustration, throwing her staff to the ground in a temper. “Put your binkie in, little baby…” Isolde giggled, teasing her companion. This caused Thistle to roll their eyes in response, unable to say what they were all thinking… Isolde just fucked up. Grabbing the bard’s collar, Serrill used all her strength to push her against the wall, slamming her on the stone, pinning her there. “Don’t… otherwise…” threatened Serrill. “Otherwise, what? You’re going to cry?” teased Isolde. “You’re going to throw your toys at me? Silly little baby can’t even solve a simple puzzle. Do you need an adult to solve it for you, little Rilly?” Serrill wanted to scorch this bitch’s face off. She wanted to send her to the deepest pits of Hell for everything she had done. But for some reason, the teasing was getting to her. Like… really getting to her. She could feel her anger and frustration subsiding, returning back to normal levels, instead being replaced by her usual shy and submissive self… “I… shu… shut up… I… I can…” She knew it was probably the curse. Whatever the fucked up Lord had done to her has made her susceptible to being teased and babied. Baby talk was actually affecting her, and she was powerless to stop it. “D’awww, why don’t you just let Auntie Isolde take care of everything…” Aurelia clenched her fists in frustration, but there was nothing she could do to stop what was going on. Even Herta was barking, but the ever-loyal pup was powerless to stop the bard from taking control. Isolde grabbed the dummy from Serrill’s pocket and placed it in the elf’s mouth, silencing her in an instant. “Much better. Now, are you going to be a good girl for me?” she growled teasingly at the elf. Serrill couldn’t find the words to speak, let alone argue. She just nodded along, blushing, as the bard effortlessly stole the mantle of leadership from her. Instead, she felt a rush of warmth underneath her robe, feeling the already soaked nappy drooping. “D’awww, does the widdle baby need a change?” “How do you…?” Serrill mumbled from behind her dummy. “I’ve seen you make that face every time you go pee-pee in your widdle nappy. It’s adorable. And pathetic. And you think we didn’t notice.” This caused Serrill’s blushing to get worse as she hid her face with her robe’s sleeves, too embarrassed to show her face. “Why don’t you let Auntie Isolde change you?” Everything within her said no. She knew that Aurelia made it clear who was and who wasn’t allowed to change her. But Aurelia wasn’t here anymore. At least not in any capacity to stop the bard. And whatever this curse was… it was actually allowing Isolde to take control of not only the party… but also of her. “Good girl. Let’s get going, we can use one of these rooms to change you… everyone else stays put…” Isolde ordered, grabbing the cleric’s hand and leading her off to the nearest guest room, humming along to a tune. ====================================================== 😊 Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Thank you for such an amazing compliment! I'm so glad she's hated so much XD Vico is amazing. He can do anything with his two brain cells 🤭

Chapter 24: Patron Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “Belongs to yo-... huh?” Serrill asked, looking back at the warlock, confused, taking the dummy out of her mouth just for a moment. But as soon as the dummy was out, she felt this compulsion to put it back in. It felt… wrong… to have it out. It felt so good to have it in. But she knew this was wrong, she shouldn’t be feeling this, so she fought against the urge. “Aurelia… is my warlock,” the demon replied. “Your… warlock?” “Are you really that baby-brained already? I didn’t think the curse would affect you that quickly… Warlocks desire power. They obtain that power by signing a contract, a pact, with an otherworldly being, one with power to… ‘share’.” “I know how their magic works!” replied Serrill, in a rather childish tone. “But you say… you’re her patron?” “And you were expecting someone else?” “I… no… I knew it was a demon… but why… why are you here?” “I live here, silly!” “You live… in the spire?” “Oh yes. In fact, little Lia here is realising just how familiar this room really is… why don’t you tell your little friends how you know so much about this room? And whilst you’re at it… why not tell them the terms of our contract?” “I… I’m allowed to say?” Aurelia replied, nervously. “Yes. You are given permission, this one time.” “Aurelia?” Serrill said, looking up at the tiefling. Aurelia turned to the elf, nervously looked down to her, and sighed. “I am hers. I belong to her. She gives me freedom to travel, and the power to fight…” “For what in return?” asked Serrill. “Every now and then… whenever she wants, really… She transports me to a place. Turns out… All along… I was being transported here… to this room. I’ve been transported here every time, and whenever I was here… I’m her… toy. Her plaything. Her… slave.” “You’re her… slave?” “Exactly!” the demon interrupted, in a rather cheery tone. “She’s my pet. She belongs to me. Which makes the choice this decade very easy. I can finally give up that silly contract of yours and keep you as my pet… forever. I’ll even make a special exception for you, seeing as you already belong to me. I won’t put you in one of the other dungeon rooms, the ones you passed by to get here. No, you can stay here. In this room. With me. Forever.” Aurelia began visibly shaking with fear. Serrill, picturing the rooms they had tried to enter but couldn’t, the ones they walked past… began seeing them very differently now that they apparently had… people in them… “We’ll stop you!” Serrill replied, trying to sound tough and fearsome, but the slight babyish tone ruined it. “What, you three?” the demon asked, scoffing. “Three?” “Well Lia here… can’t hurt me. It’s in our contract,” the demon grinned. “REALLY?” Isolde yelled at the warlock, making her feel even more ashamed. “Lia… strip,” the demon ordered. And almost immediately, Aurelia dropped her staff and pack on the ground, and began taking off her clothes. “See, she’s powerless to resist me. My words make her feel good… and she just loves to obey…” Aurelia moaned a little as the warlock’s words flowed through her body. “Aurelia?” Vico called out. “I… I’m sorry… I can’t hurt her…” she replied. “Looks like it's up to us, kiddo…” Vico said, looking at Serrill. “But… she… we need… I need her!” “LASSY!” Vico raised his voice, taking the elf by surprise. She had never heard him raise his voice at anyone outside of his warcry. “We don’t need her to kill this bitch!” “But…” “NO BUTS!” “I…” “If you’re as powerful as she says you are, you can destroy this demon back to the Hells before Aurelia can get down to her bare ass.” Aurelia continued to take her clothes off, slowly taking piece by piece off and letting it drop to the floor. “I… I can do this… I can save her…” Serrill said to herself, repeating it, trying to drill it into her head and psyche herself up. “Exactly! So you charge up a spell, and I’ll keep her distracted. Isolde, you…” Vico turned to the bard to give her orders, but she was nowhere to be seen. That was… until he looked forward towards the demon. “WHAT YOU DOING THERE, ‘SOLDE?” Vico cried out. “I HAVEN’T SAID GO YET!” There was one problem with Vico’s plan, and that was… …That Isolde wasn’t listening. Aurelia was out of the way, finally. No longer would she look down on her. She had been a thorn in her side for far too long, and now the tiefling was at the mercy of her Master, this demon from the Hells. She could use this opportunity to her benefit, she could use the warlock’s relationship with this demon to progress… she just had to be careful with her words. “What do you want, little bard?” the demon grinned down at Isolde, who stood in front her, unarmed, her face indicating she was one ‘boo’ away from running for the hills in fear. “I… want to make a deal…” Isolde replied. “A deal? Oh you do interest me after all… All these adventurers that pass through over the many, many years… not one of them offered to make me a deal. Usually my deals are made outside of the spire. But to come to me… and try to deal with me? In my sanctum? Oh little bard… you better be careful and offer something worthy.” “I do,” Isolde audibly gulped, “I offer… Aurelia.” This took the demon by surprise… though it was mostly confusion on her part. “Sorry, repeat that, please,” she said. “I offer Aurelia.” “I already own her. Humans really are stu-” “Please, hear me out.” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Vico cried out, gripping his axe, ready to attack. Serrill began charging a spell, just waiting for the bard to move out of the way… though with the way the conversation was going… she was more tempted to aim at the bard rather than trying to avoid her. “Fine. I’ll hear you out. If you don’t make me an interesting enough offer… you take Aurelia’s place,” the demon waved her hands, causing the halfling to be launched off the ground and flung through the air… into a nearby cage, which quickly locked itself shut. This was followed by another wave of her hand, causing nearby restraints to fly through the air and strap themselves around Serrill’s wrists and ankles, pulling her back onto a large cross, splaying her out… leaving her vulnerable. “That’s fair. I accept your terms,” the bard replied. “ISOLDE, WHAT THE HELL?” Serrill screamed. “Go ahead, little bard,” the demon growled. “You let us go. Admit defeat. We technically defeat you and we move on up to the next floor,” Isolde explained, her hands trembling. She was usually terrible at this sort of thing, despite being a bard. She normally couldn’t charm herself out of a paper box. “And why would I do that? What would I get in return exactly? And don’t say…” “Aurelia.” “Again, I already own her…” “Yes, but who owns you?” “Oh you are playing with fire, little bard…” the demoness grinned, her fangs showing as the smile crept up her face. “I assume you live here…. Because you are indebted to the Mistress of the Spire.” “And why do you assume that?” “Because if you weren’t, you’d be on the top floor, ruling over the place.” It was true, the demon was indebted to the Mistress. But not for the reason the bard assumed. Isolde assumed that she was bound to the Spire and the Mistress because of some ritual or pact, maybe a punishment of some sorts by the Lords of the Hells… But no, it’s as simple as this: the demon was just ‘hot for teach’. Before the Spire, before all this ritual thing and becoming a Lord… the succubus was an assistant to the Mistress, learning lots under her. And I mean that quite literally. It’s very much a ‘friends with benefits’ situation going on. But this talk about ‘ruling over the place’... something about that enticed the demon, made her open to actually considering this deal. “Go ahead…” she replied. “So… we win, technically, we move on up. We defeat the next bunch of Lords, make it up to the top, defeat the Mistress. If we win… we take all the riches, the treasure, all that… and you let us leave. You get control of the Spire. Win-win! And… you get to keep Aurelia. She’s yours.” “And what if you don’t make it to the top floor? What if you do, but don’t defeat the Mistress? What do I get then?” “You get Aurelia anyway. Corrupt her now, so the Mistress is more likely to give her to you, just like the other Lords have done with our other friends. So you get her, either way. But if we make it up… you could be the new Mistress!” Serrill and Vico couldn’t believe what they were hearing. And believe me, they were making their protest known. Problem was, whatever protest was coming out of their mouths was silenced by whatever spell the demon had cast on their bonds, making their cries inaudible. The demon took a second to consider this proposal. She knew the Mistress was watching, and really she had no desire to take over the tower… but if she took this offer, she knew that the Mistress would find this more entertaining. Perhaps… she may even let her service her… Because if they all fought to the death, either the demon wins… and the party just loses. Game over. That’s boring. Doesn’t make for a good story, which is what the Mistress really wants. She only gets to play this game every ten years, so she wants it to be good. If the party wins, it bolsters their courage and they move on, potentially even defeating the Mistress thanks to this newfound courage. And if they did that… she wouldn’t get brought back by her Mistress. But… if she accepted this deal, corrupted Aurelia into an obedient little slave… the remaining two would leave here hating the bard for her deception, which would make the remaining floors a lot more fun to watch. So really, she knew the answer to this. She just hoped the Mistress would be as happy with her decision as she was. “...Deal. I concede.” The door to the sex dungeon shut in their faces with a large amount of force, leaving the party in the dark, dank hall once again, though this time with everyone together again. Serrill and Vico turned to the bard, with very visible disgust and hatred on their faces. They were ready to tear her limb from limb for what she had just done. “What?” Isolde cried out, backing against the wooden door, defensively. “You sold her out!” Serrill was this close to destroying this deceitful bitch, but one look at Aurelia caused her to back down. Aurelia wouldn’t want this. Not yet anyway… Sighing, Serrill knew this wasn’t the place or time. Thanks to the bard, they managed to get past this floor without fighting, which meant they could move on up to the next one. Plus… she swore to herself that the bard is being flung out the first window they come across, if there are any. Either way, Isolde is not making it to the top of the tower in one piece. If the bard doesn’t win… she can’t honour her deal with the demon. Which means Aurelia is free again if they somehow manage to defeat the Mistress somehow… with just two people left… “Look, she was going to be corrupted either way. She was already half naked by the time I struck the deal!” whined Isolde, trying to get out of the hole she had dug herself into. Aurelia hung around at the back of the party, her hands behind her back, fully naked apart from the shiny metal cuffs on her wrists and ankles… and the large collar that adorned her beautiful crimson neck. “I have half a mind to cut you down to my height for what you did…” Vico said, growling at the bard. “Ignore her. Let’s just continue,” replied Serrill, gently pulling the halfling away, before looking at Aurelia. “Aurelia? Are you… are you there?” Aurelia didn’t say a thing, she just hung her head, unable to look the girl in the eye. Because that… would be unbecoming of a servant like her. She was there to please, to serve, to be used… “Please, I need you…” Serrill cried out quietly to her friend… her companion. Upon hearing those words, Aurelia stepped forward on her bare feet, quietly, and knelt down in front of the cleric, before kissing her boots. “What are you doing?” Serrill asked, surprised by this sudden behavioural change. “She’s a sex toy now. She exists for others' pleasure. You said you need her…” Isolde said, quickly brushing past the group and heading towards a set of stairs in the distance that weren’t there before. This took a second to process in Serrill’s slightly regressed mind, with very lewd images of her friend playing through them, making her squirm, her cheeks turning bright red, before she blew a gasket and her mind came flooding back to the present. “So… OH NO! EWWW!” Serrill cried out, backing away from Aurelia, rushing around the party as the warlock looked up, upset. “Sorry, I don’t need that… no… I just… nothing. It’s okay…” Nodding gently, Aurelia stood up once again, hanging her head and putting her hands back behind her. “So we have a dog, a maid, a druid that is basically an ornament, and now a walking sex toy. Great…” Vico sighed. There was a moment of silence, before Serrill began screaming. “IF ANYONE USES AURELIA I WILL FIREBALL YOUR DICKS OFF, GOT IT?” Isolde looked back at the elf and grinned. “What about…?” she said, smirking. “I WILL MAGICALLY CREATE A DICK FOR YOU AND THEN FIREBALL IT OFF!” “Okay okay…” Isolde said, holding her hands up, trying to act innocent. “Either way, we should get going.” “Don’t think that with Aurelia being out of commission… that you are our new leader,” growled Serrill, as she pushed past the bard with some force, knocking her back into the wall. “Then just who will lead us?” shrugged Isolde. “I think she just showed you who…” Vico laughed, walking past the bard, trying to catch up with the new leader of the party. ====================================================== If you didn't hate Isolde before... Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 23: Favour Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “A favour? Seriously? You’re actually asking me for a favour? The party that is here to kill me wants me to do something for you? The party that, statistically, will never even make it to my chambers, so poses no real threat? Why should I entertain you? Why shouldn’t I just roast you alive right now for even bothering me?” The Mistress’ words would cut down any lesser mortal. Aurelia… well she was just too stubborn to back down. “Statistically? You mean…?” the warlock replied, cupping her chin with one of her hands, deep in thought. “No one reaches my chambers. Not a single soul. No one is worthy of seeing me in the flesh. A handful got close… but they failed at the last hurdle.” “So if we’re no threat, you’ll hear me out…” “You, little warlock are… interesting. It’s been a long time since anyone interested me. So go ahead, I’ll hear you out. Though don’t expect me to accept your request.” Aurelia took a deep breath. It was a ridiculous request. One that she never thought she’d ever be making, especially to a demon like this. “Thank you. So… I need… a dummy,” the room went silent for a second, everyone’s voices disappeared in disbelief. “Pacifier. Binky. Whatever you call them.” Instantly, the Mistress’ vision began laughing. “D’aww! Does the widdle baby need her dodie?” the Mistress replied in a condescending tone, the same tone and baby voice that you’d hear being made to an infant. “Does the widdle warwock need her binkie?” But Aurelia wasn’t going to let this demon get to her. She was going to stand her ground. No matter how ridiculous this idea was… she was mostly sure it was going to work. “Not for me, for Serrill…” she responded, as cool and calm as she could manage in this tense situation. “Ah.” “Yes, we figured it out. She was cursed, back in the forest. And yes, one of your Lords wants her as his baby.” “You do realise, you’ll be playing into their hands then?” the Mistress replied, her eyebrow raising. “You give her a dummy, and she’ll be that bit closer to being fully corrupted.” “I know.” “And you will risk her life? Her mind?” “We need her. She’s still her, for now. But she needs to not be distracted. I can conjure nappies for her, but I can’t do anything about a dummy. That’s why I’m asking you.” “What if I give you a dummy that is cursed too? What if that completes the transformation? Haven’t you thought abo-” “Don’t care. You wouldn’t do that,” Aurelia replied, cutting her off. “And how do you know that?” “Because that would be too quick and easy. It would ruin the fun for not just you, but also the Lord who has his eyes set on her. This will push her a little in that direction, but it won’t complete the corruption.” “You really are a clever little thing… It’s a shame another has eyes on you, otherwise I’d be making an exception… I never usually desire any of those who wander into my Spire…” Aurelia’s blood ran cold. This confirmed it. Someone had their eyes on her. “Fine. You can have a dummy. An uncursed one too. I still can’t believe you asked for a dummy of all things… when you could have asked for an exit!” the Mistress’ visage laughed. “WE COULD?” Isolde yelled. “Wow, you really are stupid,” the Mistress sighed. “Of course not.” This shut Isolde up straight away, as she slinked into the background, out of sight, whilst the Mistress giggled again. “There… enjoy… no more summoning me, no more requests. Got that? You’re on your own now. If you somehow miraculously make it through my remaining Lords, I guess I’ll see you soon. Otherwise… have a nice new life with my subjects!” And with that… the visage disappeared, making the room dim again. Aurelia felt something appear in her hand, so she quickly lifted it up to examine it for any magical activity. She was probably correct in thinking they wouldn’t push Serrill’s regression too far this quickly, but she had to make sure anyway. Confirming there was no magic or curse behind the infantile soother, she walked over to Serrill, who was still sucking her thumb. But as she got closer, the cleric’s eyes widened in fear. “Sweetie, it’ll help. I promise. I know your thumb tastes good, but you need both hands to cast your magic.” “Buh… it will make me worse…” Serrill replied, her words muffled by the thumb in her mouth. “It won’t be that bad. It may even satisfy that part of you, meaning that you’ll be you for longer. Please, you trust me, right?” “Uh… uh huh…” With one hand, Aurelia reached up and grabbed the hand Serrill was currently sucking on, removing it from her mouth, before reaching up with her other one and placing the blue dummy, that matched the elf’s robes, in her mouth. Serrill’s eyes widened, once again… but this time you could see the joy in them. “That better, sweetie?” Aurelia asked softly. Nodding happily and smiling, Serrill began happily sucking on the dodie, not caring that the rest of her party were watching her do so. Which meant the curse was definitely affecting her more now, because if she had done this before the curse, she would have died from embarrassment. “Good girl,” Aurelia replied in a gentle tone, making the elf blush, before turning around to the rest of the party with a much more strict expression on her face. “Now… NO ONE makes fun of her, okay? Especially you, Isolde.” Isolde looked guilty, huffing a little, as the others nodded at the warlock in agreement. “She… actually looks cute,” Vico commented. “I agree, the little Miss is positively adorable!” Magnus replied, making the elf blush so much that she quickly headbutted Aurelia’s arm, burying her face in the warlock’s sleeve to hide her blushing face. Even Thistle spoke up, though it was more like muffled noises. Herta just barked and ran around in a circle. “Any luck with the doors?” Aurelia called out. “None so far…” Vico replied, yelling from the other end of the corridor. The party had decided to split up and check each and every door in this long, dimly lit corridor. Dozens of doors, all of which were heavy duty doors that would’ve taken a minotaur to break down, were locked shut. There was no window either, they all had shutters on them that prevented the party from peeking in. So it remained a mystery as to what was inside them. Sighing, Aurelia clutched her head. Something about this floor was bothering her. And she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Then there was one door… right at the end… with light coming from the tiniest gap under the door. The others didn’t have any light coming from them, they were all dark. So this one intrigued the warlock. “I guess we should try this one…” Everyone shuffled over, after giving up on their attempted search of the other rooms, and grouped up behind the warlock. “Want me to try and break it down?” Vico asked, clutching his axe, ready to attack as soon as he’s given the go ahead. “These are reinforced. I don’t think you’d manage, Vico.” “Think… we could blast it?” asked Serrill. “Again, your spells are strong, but I don’t think they’d manage.” That’s when Isolde sighed, pushed past the group, knocking back the warlock a few inches, and walked over to the door. “Knock knock…” they mumbled. Suddenly, a noise that could only be described as something unlocking itself, came from the other side of the door. “Why couldn’t you haf done dat before?” Serrill whined behind her dummy. “There are like a bajillion doors!” “Shut it, baby. I can’t use it that often, and the others seemed boring. This one seems to have some activity behind it,” Isolde said, rolling her eyes at the elf. “Serrill, sweetie, she may be right. But… that doesn’t excuse her for her cruel words…” Aurelia stared daggers at the bard. It was at that moment that the warlock wanted to throw Isolde over her knee so badly… but resisted. “What? She’s wearing a nappy, wetting it apparently, and sucking a dummy. She also sounds and acts like a baby! If it walks like a duck…” “Don’t…” growled Aurelia, gripping the bard by the collar and lifting her slightly. “If you continue to be this mean, I’ll cum…” the bard grinned, causing the warlock to roll her eyes and let go of the annoying minstrel. “Let's just go…” Aurelia said, pushing the bard out of the way and making their way to the door, putting her hand on it and slowly pushing it open. The weight of the door required her to reevaluate her decision and use both her hands as she pushed with all her might to open this very heavy, very old door. And as soon as it swung open, Aurelia’s jaw dropped. “Aurelia? Are… are you okay?” asked Serrill, gently tugging at the warlock’s sleeve. “Holy crap! Look at all this stuff! What a freak this Lord is!” Isolde began laughing. “This is… definitely on the more… extreme end of tastes of the Lords so far…” Magnus replied. Aurelia just stood there, in shock, her jaw wide open, unable to move or speak… or blink. Even Vico was concerned about the tiefling, as he looked up at her and called out her name, “Aurelia?” But still, no reply. “AURELIA!” he yelled. “This…” This seemed to shock the warlock out of whatever was keeping her stunned, as she looked around in a panic. “We need to get out of here… now…” “We can’t. We need to defeat the Lord of this floor to move on up,” Serrill replied. “Why? What’s up?” Aurelia looked around the room, at all of the unique furniture on display… Stocks up on the wall by the side, a lush scarlet bed in the centre with chains and restraints attached to it. A puppy cage in the corner. A spanking bench. There was even a tool shelf hung on the wall with various spanking implements and sex toys hanging from it. This… this was a dungeon. But it wasn’t just any dungeon. Not to her. “We… I can’t be here… no… this… can’t be true…” Aurelia started panicking, her eyes widening in fear. “What can’t be?” asked Serrill, her words muffled a bit by the dummy still in her mouth. “This is her room…” “Whose?” “I’ve been here the whole time? Every time it… oh no… I need to get out of here. Now. This is worse than I thought. It was a mistake ever setting foot in…” The door shut behind them. Looking backwards, Serrill and Isolde noticed that the party had been split up. Herta, Magnus and Thistle were still stuck on the other side of the door, whilst Serrill, Isolde, Aurelia and Vico were stuck on this side. “I… what happened?” Isolde cried out as she trembled in fear. A sultry voice rang out through the dungeon. A voice that made the hairs on the back of Aurelia’s neck stand on end. “Oh look… playthings…” Aurelia’s fight or flight was in full control now. And she wanted the latter. There was absolutely no chance of the former. Not against… this one. But with the door locked shut once again, she wasn’t sure flight was even an option anymore. “WHO IS THAT?” Vico called out. “A halfling… meh,” the sultry voice called out, seemingly from everywhere at the same time, just like the Mistress. “A cute little elf… oh but you’re already someone’s prize… oooh a yummy bard… and… wait… no… that can’t be… is that my little pet?” Aurelia’s whole body froze as soon as she heard that word. “Pet?” asked Serrill. “Oh you didn’t tell me you were taking on my Mistress’ Spire! You should have called ahead, I would have set things up like I usually do!” “Aurelia… what is she talking about?” “I heard there was another adventuring party, it’s that time of the decade again. But I wasn’t expecting it to be you! Oh well now I know exactly who I’m going to beg the Mistress for… and who is going to be my target…” “I…” Aurelia couldn’t find the words. She was still in shock. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends? Or are you still ashamed of me?” “I… I can’t…” “You can’t what, sweetie? Use your words. Or else I take them away… again.” “I… can’t… I can’t do this… I… I’m sorry…” Never before had any of the party seen the warlock act so helpless and afraid. She was usually the confident one, the one who never got intimidated or scared. Which put a new sense of fear into all their hearts. Because if this Lord can do this to her… what will they do to the rest of them? “Do you know this temptress?” Vico asked, looking around for the source of the voice. The sultry voice laughed again, before a crimson skinned Goddess walked out of the shadows, seemingly from nowhere, clad in nothing but a long black dress that barely covered her most intimate parts, large ornate horns atop her head, and a whip-like tail that swished about, cutting the air. She looked like the Mistress, but it wasn’t her. Same race, different person. And her eyes glowed red as she looked at the warlock and grinned. “Know me? Sweetie… she belongs to me…” ====================================================== 🤭 this chapter was so much fun to write. And hey, one big question finally answered! Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 22: Traps Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “How about your life…” growled Aurelia, very loudly. “I… what? What are you on about?” Isolde replied, trying to shrug it off, as if they hadn’t been talking to Serrill at all. “Yes. She’s been cursed…” Vico and Magnus turned to the commotion after hearing about their healer being cursed, whilst Herta continued licking her arm. “Serrill has been cursed?” they both asked. Serrill couldn’t take any of this, it was all a bit too much for her, so she did what she did best… she collapsed to the floor and curled up into a little ball, covering her head with her arms, before quickly slipping her thumb into her mouth… which felt… good. “Yes, which makes her suck her thumb and wet herself… like a baby!” Isolde blurted out, grinning. Not giving her much time to grin, Aurelia grabbed the bard by the throat, spun her around and slammed her into the wall, pinning her there, lifting her up slightly so she could barely stand on her toes. “And you, bitch, speak too much…” Aurelia sounded pissed. More pissed than any of them had seen her before. Isolde struggled to speak as her throat was being constricted by the tiefling’s muscular hand. “Aurelia… please… back down…” Vico spoke up, tugging at the warlock’s robe. “Apologise to Serrill… NOW!” Aurelia roared at the bard. “I’M SORRY!” she blurted out. Releasing the woman from her grip, Aurelia turned and sighed, looking at Serrill and feeling bad for the poor elf. No one deserved any of this, all this bullshit with these Lords and their kinks… but especially not this poor girl. She just wanted to help people. She was doing this because Aurelia suggested she do it. She would have been too nervous to even step foot in this Spire, had it not been for Aurelia pushing the girl, telling her that the reward was worth it. Sighing, she turned to her party members, just as Isolde was breathing deeply, clutching her neck, trying to get her breath back. “Serrill was cursed. Back in the forest I think. She was… I think she’s been corrupted.” Magnus and Vico looked at each other in shock. Thistle’s eyes widened, because that’s all they could manage tied up like that. “It seems to be a slow corruption though. Which is good… and bad. It means that it buys us time, hopefully enough time to defeat whatever Lord aimed it at the poor girl, and then also defeat the Mistress so it stops. But it also means that we are yet to encounter whatever Lord has their eyes set on Serrill. And yes, she’s acting more infantile and she… has been having accidents… which means we know what kind of perv one of the remaining Lords is. So we’ve got that to look forward to…” sighed Aurelia, bending down by Serrill and wrapping her arms around the bundled up elf, hugging her tightly. “Will she be okay to heal, Ma’am? To fight?” Magnus asked. “She’ll be fine. Just means I need to… ‘take care’ of some stuff for her. And she’s a bit more sensitive than she usually is.” “She’s always been a sensitive soul, poor girl,” Magnus replied. “Maybe that’s why this unknown Lord set his sight on her?” “That was my exact thinking. They seem to go for personalities or traits… so very early on in the forest on the way to the Spire, the Lords must have set their sights on us and determined which ones they wanted to corrupt in their own way. That way it’ll increase the chances the Mistress will grant them that victim once the party fails…” “That’s all manners of fucked up…” Vico said, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to cut down whatever fuckhead did this to Serrill…” A warmth filled Serrill’s heart as her companions, whom she never really seemed to get on well with in the past, talked about her as if she was… well, family. She always felt like a disposable healer, just like one of those you can hire in the capital, the ones who would fill in for a party on an expedition or quest. They were popular, but expensive, because… well, no one likes healing. And they got treated like shit by whoever hired them, because healers are always abused, despite being vital to a successful expedition. Sure, Aurelia, Thistle, and sometimes Herta were nice to her, treated her as nearly equal… but the other three just treated her like they’d treat any other healer. So to hear her companions talk about her as if she was important to them, not just as a healer but also as a friend… she found some courage within to stop her tears and climb back up to her feet. Sure, she was still angry about Aurelia blurting out the baby stuff and the accidents to everyone… she had no idea why she’d do such a thing when she was promised it would stay between her and Aurelia, but now that everyone knows… It felt like a weight had been lifted. “So what does this curse entail? And what does it say about the Lord?” asked Magnus. “Why do you ask?” replied Aurelia. “Because we may find this Lord on this floor. And if we can determine what kind of… interest he has… we may be able to prevent anything happening to Serrill that would make her condition worse.” “I don’t think he’s on this floor. Something about this floor doesn’t scream ‘Daddy’.” “Daddy? So he will be a somewhat paternal figure seeking a youthful companion, treating them like an infant for…” Magnus was deep in thought, tapping his heel on the ground. “Look, some people are into it. I’m not one to judge. She’s having frequent accidents, and she’s acting a little infantile at points. But I worry that her behaviour will worsen.” “Until…?” “Until she’s no longer an adult, mentally at least. She’ll be unable to fight and will need constant protection.” “I can change her nappies and keep her…” “No…” Aurelia growled, very defensively. “Sorry Ma’am?” “She’s already a nervous little thing. I’ll change her.” “And if something happens to you?” Aurelia sighed, knowing that if something were to happen to her, Serrill would probably need some help, despite trying her best to teach the woman how to take care of her bladder issues herself. “I’ve taught her how to change herself. But… if her mind does regress far enough, and something has happened to cause me to be corrupted and useless… then yes, you have permission to change her, okay? Only because I don’t trust Isolde to take care of a hamster, let alone our cleric.” “Understood, Ma’am. Is that okay with you, Serrill sweetie?” Magnus turned to Serrill, whose face was bright red at this point due to everyone talking about her so intimately. “I… umm…” “Sweetie…” Aurelia smiled weakly at the elf, “For now, you can do it yourself, or I can help you, okay? But if you do regress further, and I’m out of commission… if we come across the Lord who has his sights on you and he makes you worse… you’re going to need help. And I trust this new Magnus more than I trust anyone else capable of doing it right now.” “I… ok…” mumbled Serrill, who clutched her staff and walked on ahead, trying to hide her mortified face from the rest of the group. She still couldn’t believe everyone knew about it, and what was worse… was that they were right to… she was currently dribbling into her clean nappy as she shuffled on ahead. “You okay sweetie?” Aurelia whispered as they continued down a dimly lit corridor. “I… will be…” replied Serrill, frustration in her voice. “You don’t seem okay, what’s up?” “Why’d you tell everyone?” “Because I have a bad feeling about this floor. And I have a bad feeling about this Mistress…” “Huh?” “Well this floor is giving me bad vibes. Not sure what it is yet, but something about it doesn’t feel right. And as for this other feeling…” “Yeah?” “She’s watching us, right? At all times?” “I figured so.” “So she knows about your… condition.” “Oh… I hadn’t thought about her watching whilst you changed me…” “Exactly. So she knows that I’m the most competent one helping you right now, preventing you from getting worse, helping keeping you changed and grounded.” “And you think she’s going to target you… through her Lords?” “It would make for a more entertaining spectacle for her… if I was out of the picture, you’d be stuck with the others to take care of you. Which, I’m sorry sweetie, but they’re not going to help. Magnus may be able to change your nappies, but there’s no way he’ll be able to keep you grounded.” “I… I’ve been worrying about that…” “So yes, that’s why I think she’s going to organise it so I’m next. Or if I’m not next, I will be after this floor, assuming that this floor’s Lord isn’t the one targeting you…” “Please… please stay safe. I need you. We all need you…” Serrill could feel her eyes tearing up at the thought of anything happening to her friend, especially given that she wasn’t wrong… if something did happen, Serrill would most likely get much worse very quickly. Aurelia wrapped her arms around the cleric, not caring about the others giving her dirty looks for doing so. By others, I mean Isolde mainly, as it seemed Vico and Magnus were finally more outwardly supportive of their companion. “I’ll be okay. Important question is… Are you going to be okay?” she asked the small elf. Serrill looked up at the warlock and nodded, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, before slipping her thumb in her mouth. She hadn’t noticed this or realised it, it was just instinctual for her at this point. But Aurelia noticed. “Sweetie… one second… this may be an issue…” “Huh?” “Your thumbsucking. It means you’ve constantly got one hand occupied. And if this thing is getting worse, you’ll be doing it more, meaning you’re going to be a liability in combat. I… have an idea, and it may not seem like the best idea… but…” Serrill had a feeling she was going to hate it. And whatever it was… was probably going to push her further into her infantile state, but she trusted this woman. And Aurelia wasn’t wrong either, she felt the urge to suck on her thumb stronger than ever now, and it was getting nearly impossible to keep it out of her mouth. She already struggled holding her staff with one hand normally… in combat it’d be useless if she’s got one thumb stuck in her mouth. “I… okay…” “Right, let’s get to the main hall of this floor, then I need to poke the bear…” Arriving at a large open room, made completely of stone, with similar doors to the one that they entered this floor with, the party spread out, looking for danger. “Nothing. No one. No minions or anything. Isn’t there usually some sort of cannon fodder kinda stuff?” Vico asked as he tried opening one of the doors, to no avail. “Yes, in every dungeon we’ve been in, they usually send their minions to slow us down. But this one… we’ve fought nothing except the monster in the forest and the Lords,” Magnus replied “Don’t you get it?” Aurelia sighed. “The Lords are the cannon fodder…” “Sorry Ma’am, I don’t understand?” “A bunch of extremely powerful Lords, blocking the way to the Mistress, all of whom can be resurrected any number of times once the party has been defeated… These are the minions. We’re just used to fighting lots of smaller, weaker ones.” “So if these are the fodder… What does that make the Mistress?” Isolde chimed in, fear slapped across her face as her eyes widened. “Exactly. And now… I have to go poke her…” Aurelia grinned. “Poke… her… what?” “OH LOVELY MISTRESS, PLEASE DEIGN US WITH YOUR GRACIOUS APPEARANCE…” Aurelia cried out into the ether. This nearly gave Isolde a heart attack. “You… want to summon her… WHY?” “Because I need a favour.” In the centre of the dank, open room, right where a dried up well was, appeared the same large visage of the Mistress that had appeared all those floors back. And she looked pissed. “YOU DARE TO SUMMON ME, QUEEN OF DARKNESS, MISTRESS OF ALL TH…” That’s when her character broke. She burst out into a fit of laughter, her red, translucent form hunching over as she clutched her abdomen, giggling. “Done yet?” Aurelia asked, unfazed and unappreciative of the Mistress’s humour. “Sorry, I couldn't keep that up. It was good though, wasn’t it?” the Mistress replied, smiling still. The party all looked up at the Mistress’ visage, with a mix of shock, fear and rage. And for a couple… lust. “So. What do you want?” the Mistress asked, confused and curious. “I don’t usually get called at this point. I make my presence obvious on the first few floors, then I get to sit back whilst you all get weeded out and corrupted until you inevitably fail. But you… you actually called for me. Why?” “Yes, Aurelia, why did you call her?” Isolde scolded the tiefling in question. “I… need a favour,” Aurelia replied, looking up at the large animated glowing bust of the Mistress. ====================================================== 🤭 Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 21: Onwards Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “Make sure you use lots of this powder, it keeps your skin dry and protects it when you’re wet.” Serrill pouted as she lay there, her bottom half completely bare to the warlock kneeling beside her. The pair had excused themselves from the group, with Aurelia coming up with some half-arsed lie to give the two some privacy whilst she changed the elf’s soaked nappy. “Make sure to sprinkle it, then spread it.” “Why are you telling me this?” replied Serrill, whose cheeks were as crimson as the tiefling’s skin at this point. “Can’t… can’t you just keep doing it for me? You’ve done a really good job so far!” “I have to teach you how to change yourself, silly girl.” “Why though? I won’t be as good as you…” “And you never will be if you don’t try. Look, we’re about half way up the spire now, I think. And if…” “If what?” asked Serrill, as she noticed Aurelia staring off into the distance. “If what?” “If… anything happens to me…” That scared Serrill. It was bad enough when Magnus and Herta got ‘affected’, then it was horrible when Thistle got all tied up and couldn’t speak or move… but she hadn’t even thought about Aurelia getting ‘corrupted’ or ‘affected’ or whatever you want to call it. If something happened to their leader… there’s no way they’re making it all the way to the top of the spire, let alone defeat the Mistress. They needed her intelligence, her wit, her cunning… without Aurelia, all Serrill had left was a dumbass halfing and a selfish, cowardly bard. “Nothing will happen to you! I won’t allow it!” cried Serrill, pain entwined into her words. “Sweetie, I hope so too… but look at our friends… we have to plan for the worst.” “I… I don’t want to!” “I can’t tell if that’s the curse the Lord has given you, or your childlike insecurities…” “I… I don’t have those!” Serrill whined, just like a bratty toddler. “Sweetie, I know you better than you think. I know how scared you are, how much you cling to me. How much you cling to anyone who takes charge. You need structure, you need a guardian figure. And that was even before this curse on you…” “Hey! No I don’t! I managed just fine before I met you all!” “Babygirl… we found you robbed and half-naked on the road after you tried to help some bandits ‘redeem’ themselves. You’re too good… for your own good.” “I… nearly managed to get them to turn from a life of crime!” “No you didn’t. They were bragging about how they led you on in the tavern. That’s how I knew where you were.” “You… never told me that…” Serrill replied, blushing and feeling embarrassed. “I was in that same tavern as the same bandits who robbed you, when I heard them talking about a poor elven girl trying to help people, and how they had tricked and manipulated you. So… I may have left them naked and penniless outside of the tavern, waiting to be picked up by the guards.” “You… got them back for me? Why didn’t you tell me?” “Because you were trying to help people, to redeem bad people. I didn’t want to make you feel bad that I, in return, did the same to them as they did to you. Then, when that was done, I wandered up into the hills to find you.” “And you asked if I wanted to join your group…” “Exactly, you know the rest. So trust me, I know who you are. And I don’t think this curse on you has caused this, I think it’s just exacerbating it.” “I… uhh… fine… buh… buh I don’t want anything to happen to you!” Aurelia just laughed, confusing the poor little elf. “And you think I do? Don’t worry, sweetpea. Let me teach you how to change your own nappy, then we can worry about getting through the next floor, whatever that is. So… carrying on… once you’re all powdered up, pull this side over here… grabbing the pins…” “Ta da!” Aurelia exclaimed, having successfully finished changing the poor little cursed elf’s nappy. “That… wasn’t so hard… I think…” replied Serrill, surprised that it was a lot simpler than she originally thought. “Think you can change yourself next time?” “I… maybe…” “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to supervise. Now, we better get back soon, they’re probably wondering where we disappeared to.” “What did you tell them?” “That you were having panic attacks and needed some space.” “But…” “I know, but what do you want me to tell them? That you’re pissing yourself, soaking your giant nappy like a little baby?” Serrill’s eyes widened in shock as her cheeks began burning yet again. “I… I…” “Trust me, little one. You’re in safe hands. The other two remaining party members of ours are clueless. Isolde… she never thinks about anyone but herself, and if Vico put two and two together… he’d end up with a crayon drawing of a giraffe.” Serrill giggled, which filled the warlock’s heart with warmth. “Oh, you like that, do you baby?” Aurelia asked, teasing her companion. “I not baby!” “D’awww! Your widdle nappy says otherwise…” Serrill hid her face with her robe sleeves, trying to hide the obvious embarrassment that was currently showing on it. Aurelia felt awkward doing this. It wasn’t normally her thing, but though she would never admit this… she found the elf’s childish mannerisms somewhat adorable. At first, she was just talking down to Serrill because it seemed to be a way to get through to her, due to the curse. But now… she was doing it because it seemed to make the girl… happy. The way the elf’s face lit up when she got called baby… Aurelia would happily play along if it meant she got to see that smile again. “Don’t worry, sweetpea. Your secret is safe with me. Now, little one, why don’t we get back to the others and find the exit to this floor?” Serrill nodded as Aurelia held out her hand, helping the thickly padded cleric up onto her feet, where she fixed her robe and looked up at the tiefling… smiling. “What took you so long?” Isolde asked as the two returned to camp. “Poor girl just needed a bit of quiet time. And you… would have just made her worse,” sighed Aurelia. “Hey! No I wouldn’t! And it’s not my fault if the stupid healer can’t even keep her composure…” Aurelia didn’t like the way Isolde was talking about her friend, so she marched over to where the bard was leaning against a tree, and punched the bark just beside her head, hovering over the human, staring daggers at her. Isolde… well Isolde was a coward, meaning that her eyes widened in fear and her knees started trembling. And if you want to know a secret… She was one shout away from pissing her pants and ending up worse than Serrill. But thankfully, at least for her sake, she backed down instantly, apologising and looking around, anywhere but directly at Aurelia, whose stare was starting to burn holes in the back of the bard’s head. “Don’t dare insult her again. Otherwise I will make you wish you would get corrupted by one of the Lords here,” Aurelia growled into Isolde’s ear, before she pushed back away from the tree, smiled as if nothing happened, and walked away, leaving a very shaken bard quivering by the tree. “Everyone ready?” Aurelia called out, looking around at the group who were all packed and waiting to move on from this floor. Serrill was nervously shuffling about on the spot, Vico was staring off into the distance, not a single thought running through his head, and Isolde was still feeling the scolding she got from Aurelia before, too nervous to speak out. The other three… well Magnus was standing there, in his pristine maid uniform, with a leash in his hand that was attached to the scantily-clad druid’s vine-collar, ready to pull the immobile, floating half-elf along behind him. And Herta… Well Herta was busy relieving herself on the stump in the centre of camp. “Yes, Ma’am,” Magnus replied. “But where is the exit?” “I think I saw some torchlight coming from a wall in the distance earlier. So we’ll head in that direction, and hope for the best.” “Sounds like a marvellous plan, Ma’am.” Aurelia preferred Magnus like this. He was less arrogant, more pleasing to look at, and a lot more useful. So she made a mental note that if she does manage to reach the top floor and defeat the Mistress of the Spire… she may just keep the paladin like this. Herta, she’ll turn back to normal, Thistle too, but Magnus… may stay in his current role. And maybe if nothing managed to happen to Isolde before then… she’d fix that too. After the party trekked across the lifeless forest they had unintentionally created after killing the dryad, they eventually arrived at a small stone porch with a stone doorway, marked by two lit torches on either side of the heavy, wooden door. “This must be the way out,” Aurelia announced as she reached out and gripped the handle. But as she touched the cold metal, a shiver ran through her body. This was not due to shock. At least not from the temperature of the iron handle. Instead, it was a feeling within… a feeling of dread. “Are you okay? Aurelia? Hellooo…” Serrill tried calling out to the warlock, but she just stood there, frozen, appearing not to move a muscle except those needed to breathe. Even her eyes stopped blinking, she just stood there, staring at the door. “Ma’am?” Magnus tried this time, but to no avail. Isolde readied herself to give it a go, but just as she stepped forward, Aurelia jumped backwards and began moving again. “Are you okay?” asked Serrill. “I… I… I’m okay. Just… cold door handle, tis all…” Aurelia lied. “You sure? You looked like you saw a ghost!” “I’m fine, sweetie.” Aurelia wasn’t fine. She was anything but. Because it wasn’t the chill from the handle that shocked her… that was currently causing her heart beating a mile a minute… it was a feeling of dread that this floor may… end up claiming her… “You think she really felt cold?” Isolde whispered to Serrill as they closely followed behind their leader down a dark, murky stone corridor after they had just climbed a large staircase up to the next floor. “She said so…” replied Serrill, shrugging. “You’re so gullible. You’ll believe anything she says. It’s clear something about this floor scares her. But what that is… I don’t know. She seems to like you… a lot… so maybe you could get her to spill?” “Spill what?” “The details! Get her to tell us why this floor scares her so much, why she’s being so defensive.” “Look, if there is something bothering her… I’m sure she’d tell us if it was important.” “Simp.” “Wha?” Serrill turned to the human, confused. “You. And her. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and how you look at her. You don’t want the treasure, you want her.” “I… no! I… I want the reward at the end, just as much as you!” “But which would you rather have? The reward… or the warlock?” “I… the reward, obviously. That’s why we’re here.” “Yeah… keep telling yourself that, little baby…” Serrill dropped her staff in shock, much to the surprise of the rest of the group, who all looked at her as soon as they heard the wooden staff hit the floor. “You okay, sweetie?” Aurelia asked, sounding concerned. “I…” Serrill quickly became flustered, not knowing what to do or say. “I… okay… I… I’m okay!” Picking up her staff, she nodded at the group and shuffled back over to Isolde, getting as close as possible to her as the party started moving forward again. “How… I mean… Why did you call me that?” Serrill whispered to the bard. “You think the tiefling is the only one with eyes and ears? Maybe Magnus was so stuck up his own arse before he got corrupted, and yes the half-pint is a dumbass… but Aurelia isn’t the only one who noticed you slipping your thumb into your mouth during fights,” Isolde whispered, grinning. “I… no! Shush!” “And then there's your gait… You’ve been walking differently since a couple floors back. So I followed you and Aurelia on the last floor. And oh wow… I was not expecting what I saw…” “Shut up! It’s just a curse that was put on me!” “I heard. And I’m guessing a Lord has his eye on you…” “Shush!” Serrill whined. “Just… keep it quiet, okay? Please don’t tell anyone?” “What will you offer me?” whispered Isolde, grinning at the cleric whose eyes were beginning to tear up. Isolde was just about to make a suggestion of an offer for her silence, when a shadow loomed over the pair… ======================================================= Okay, so quick update on what I said last time: Decided to go with new story. Finally finished the plan yesterday. Started today. Wrote 5500+ words and finished the first two chapters already. So yeah... its going well! Especially seeing as for the past month or so I've had such bad writers block that I've only managed 500 words max per day, taking lots of days off too. Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 20: Druid Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “So… umm…” Everyone looked around at each other, unsure as to what to do now. “Do… Do we… carry them?” asked Serrill. “Could we find a wheelbarrow nearby and put them in it?” suggested Isolde. “I could drag them…” Vico suggested, but instantly everyone ignored him. Aurelia turned to Magnus and Herta, but realised Herta wasn’t really in a position to give suggestions right now, so she turned all her attention to the paladin-maid. “Any ideas, Magnus?” “No Miss, sorry. Miss Serrill and Miss Isolde both suggested very fine options.” “We can’t carry them, that means yet another of us would be out of the fight. Do you think you could carry them?” “Sorry Miss, my strength seems to have been drastically reduced since my encounter with the Treasure Lord,” Magnus replied, bowing in shame towards the warlock. “Well Herta can’t. Even though they’re light… Herta would have to carry them on their back and there’s no way she can support them. Plus trying to strap them on there… and then there's the fact Herta can’t sit still… she really is like an excited puppy…” The party all thought of possible alternatives as they stared at the issue in question. All of them were staring at their companion, who was currently on their knees in a very provocative pose, tied up in all manner of vines. Completely devoid of clothes except for a black mask and some black lingerie. Aurelia had seen this artistic ropework before. And it turns out the dryad is just as perverted as the other Lords… But instead of rope, the dryad had used her vines. On their knees, wearing lingerie that was not there before… Thistle looked like a neatly wrapped little gift. A very kinky little gift. Hands tied behind their backs using the vine-rope, their ankles bound behind them, with a long vine connecting their hand restraint and their ankle restraint, they arched backwards slightly… their face expressionless and blank… due to the plain black rabbit mask placed over it. You could see movement and life behind those eyes, but there was no moving their body. Thistle was stuck. There was no moving them. There was no freeing them, they had tried that already. No amount of magic or sharp blades could cut through whatever that vine was made of. No, the poor druid was stuck in this provocative position, posing and kneeling before anyone… their mouth wide open due to the mask that was firmly stuck in place. They were clearly a toy to be used at this point. And Isolde would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it… but she also knew that the others would despise her for it, and for now she needed to play nice with them to get out of this hellhole. “So what do we do with them?” asked Isolde, still stumped as to what to do. “Do we have-?” Aurelia was about to suggest yet another futile idea, when she was quickly cut off by a very excited little blonde elf. “OH!” Serrill cried out, lifting her hand up as if she was asking for permission to speak. “You… ugh… you don’t have to put your hand up, hun,” replied Aurelia. “Do we have any spells that could levitate them? That way we could just have them hover behind us… maybe put a leash on them to pull them along?” “I… that’s a good idea! And…!” Aurelia’s face lit up as she quickly realised something. “I just happen to have a scroll of levitation that I looted in the last job we did. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion!” Aurelia quickly rummaged around her pack, pulling out a handful of dusty old scrolls that were bound together, laying them out on the floor in front of her, reading the label on each one, trying to find the one she was looking for. It helped that she was so organised, that she had carefully labelled everything in her pack and organised everything into order, otherwise they’d be here all day rummaging through her very densely-packed inventory. Just don’t ask to look at Vico’s. Or Isolde’s. Whilst admiring the organisational skills of her companion, Serrill noticed the spell scroll they were looking for, quickly pointing towards it so that Aurelia could pick it up. She did this because she was scared Aurelia would have a go at her for messing up her system (This was a good call, it turns out, as the last person who messed up Aurelia’s system got eldritch blast’d out of a second story window). “Good girl,” Aurelia said, smiling at the elf, whose face turned bright red once again upon hearing those two words, something the warlock had definitely made a mental note of. “Right, let's get this cast on them. Magnus, would you mind pulling them along with us if I tie a rope to them?” “Not at all, Miss. I believe I can manage such a job. I assume they will be as light as a feather, having been levitated?” “Yes, Magnus. And thank you.” Magnus’ face lit up upon hearing a heartfelt thank you, and he stood beside the warlock, ready to carry out his new duty as soon as the spell had been cast. So… if we rewind a bit… After the fireball had been shot directly towards the Dryad, the party hadn’t expected any results from it. They just figured it’d be the same result as when Aurelia tried to set it alight with her burning hands. What they didn’t expect… was the dryad to disintegrate. Serrill’s fireball was so powerful the Forest Lord was reduced to ashes in an instant, much to the surprise of everyone in the party. Well, everyone but Thistle, who was watching in the distance, all bound up, grinning behind their mask. And as soon as the dryad perished, the forest became lifeless. The trees and plants wilted, but they did not die. The raging fires just… subsided. The whole forest just stopped and the only things left moving were our heroic adventurers. Once they had processed what had happened, and realised that they had made it out alive, they quickly began shrugging off Serrill’s magical ability, calling it a fluke, with even Aurelia patting the elf on the head like she was a kid who did a good job at drawing a pretty picture with crayons. Serrill wasn’t surprised by their behaviour, but it still hurt, as she brushed off their fake praise and walked off, looking for their missing druidic companion. And if it wasn’t for the mumbling of a very immobile half-elf, they probably wouldn’t have found them hidden in a bush in the distance, one that hadn’t caught fire. So now, here we are, after they had taken a breather and prepared themselves for the journey to the next floor, just as Magnus was folding up Isolde’s spare clothes and packing her bag for her, that the warlock shuffled over to the cleric, who was currently waddling around the spring they had camped around earlier trying to figure out why even the water had stopped flowing. “Sweetie…” Aurelia whispered to the elf. But Serrill, still in a bit of a mood from earlier, just ignored the warlock and continued examining the stump, pouting. “Serrill…” the tiefling tried again, sounding a little bit more stern this time. Serrill continued to ignore her, giving up on trying to find a fix for the water issue, and walking straight past the warlock without even acknowledging her existence. Aurelia knew it was a long shot, but with how Serrill was acting, along with the fact that she knew something about all these ‘special interests’ of the Lords, having encountered people with them in various cities with similar ones, she had one idea… but it was a risky one. It could backfire… and sure, she had never actually tried out this particular thing, but she knew of one half-elf back in the capital that was into this kind of thing… and had seen what these words did to them. And whatever Lord put this weird curse on her friend was most likely into this kind of thing, and they’ve already picked out their intended target before they even reached the Spire. Which made Aurelia worry even more, because that meant on their way to the Mistress, they would most likely encounter whatever Lord is waiting for poor Serrill here to make their way to them. “Little one…” Aurelia whispered to her, firmly but gently. Serrill froze in place, her whole body shivered. Something about those two words… It was like hearing ‘good girl’ all over again. And Aurelia’s tone didn’t help, that just made her feel even smaller and more… more… agreeable. “I… uhh… uh huh?” replied Serrill, finally turning around and looking up at the tiefling, all wide-eyed and innocent. “What’s up?” “N… nuffin…” “Don’t lie to me, sweetie…” “I… I’m not…” “What did I just say?” Aurelia said, sounding even more stern, raising her eyebrow at the poor girl. “I…” “Tell me what’s up.” “I… saw the way you all shrugged it off…” “Shrugged what off?” “My power!” Serrill said, before she realised she had raised her voice without meaning to, quickly returning to her quiet, shy self. “What about it?” “Y… you saw…” “That you obliterated the dryad? Yeah, I saw.” “Yeah… so… why do you keep me as healer all the time?” Aurelia sighed and put her hand on the elf’s shoulder. “Because we need you to keep us safe.” “That’s what Thistle said. That ‘I’m the only one you trust to keep you all safe and topped up’ or whatever rubbish they said.” “And if they could speak right now, they would repeat that.” “I… do you think they are still… them?” Serrill asked, looking over to a very bound Thistle in the distance, who was looking around at everyone. This was because that was the only part of their body they could move, so they were making the most of it. “It seems that way, they seem to react well to us talking, moving their eyes, so unlike Herta and Magnus, I think this is purely a physical curse that we have to contend with, not a mental one.” “Oh good. I… I like Thistle. I don’t want anything happening to them…” “Me neither.” “So why do you keep me in the back?” “To… keep you safe.” “Safe? But I could blast any of these into pieces!” “And deplete your magic on the first few floors?” Aurelia raised her eyebrow at the cleric. “I can always rest up…” mumbled Serrill. “We can rest now, sure… but what if there are no more rest points further on? What if we have to keep fighting from now on up until the top of the Spire? Serrill… I know how powerful you really are. And I’m not diminishing that. What I am doing is saving my best weapon until last, an ‘in case of emergencies’ kind of thing.” “Like… now?” “Exactly. And how are you feeling?” “I… exhausted…” Serrill responded, sighing heavily. “See. Thankfully, I knew we could rest once we killed the dryad. So it was a calculated play. What if we couldn’t rest now, and we needed you on the next floor?” “I…” “Your healing costs very little magic. We have potions and salves to help keep your reserves stocked up too. When the time calls for it, I will need your help again, okay sweetie?” Aurelia looked Serrill deeply into her eyes, making the elf feel comforted and… important. “Plus… I care about you, okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you. Got that? Don’t let any of the others push you around, they may not see your importance, but I do. Thistle did. Herta did. The others are jerks, but I think after that little demonstration, they’ll have changed their minds about the whole ‘weak little healer’ thing, even if they won’t publicly admit it.” “R… really?” “Really, little one,” Aurelia smiled down at the elf, cupping her soft, bright red cheeks. “I… umm… Why are you calling me that? I’m older than you…” Serrill mumbled, blushing. “And I’m taller than you. Plus it makes your little cheeks go all red, it's adorable.” This overloaded the poor cleric’s little brain, causing her to bury her face into the tiefling’s chest to try to hide the evidence of her embarrassment. “I… I… I…” “Now, Serrill… sweetie… do you need a change?” ======================================================= So, just a lil update for you people over here. I've been discussing this a lil bit with my subscribers, and come to a decision, so I'm updating you all now. My original plan for writing was: Next monstrum story (3-4 interconnected stories in one book) -> Witch in Training 2 But I'm about 12 chapters into the monstrum story, and whilst I'm happy with my overall plan and the writing I've done so far... I'm losing my passion for it. I've been suffering from writers block a lot with this story, and its taken forever to get to even this point. It doesn't help that November and December are particularly bad months for me, and sometimes I want to just shut down and hide in bed all day most days during those months. There's also a lot of personal emotional things going in with me... and that's when I came up with a new story idea. One that people probably won't be expecting from me. It will allow me to write a very personal story, allowing me to process a lot of thoughts and feeling and emotions, and I think it will be quite cathartic for me to write. So I asked my subscribers what they'd prefer. For me to continue with the monstrum story, try and fight through writers block, but keep my 25+ chapter backlog of stuff I've already written... or decrease my backlog considerably and have a bit more pressure put on me but write this new story. Overall opinion was new story, so that's what I'm doing. I'm working on a plan for it now, it's going to be like 60+ chapters (so one of my biggest stories, only Little in Love and Love in Dimensions passed 60+ chapters). And I... have not done such detailed plans in forever. I've got so much passion for this new idea and I have a feeling it may be some peoples new favourite story of mine. It's going to be an emotional rollercoaster of a story, I hope. I've planned like 44 chapters so far, and I've still got another 20ish to plan I think, hoping to finish the rest today so I can start writing Tuesday. So to summarise: the next story will be this new idea, then it'll be the next monstrum story, then WiT2. Sorry if you were looking forward to WiT2, but to be fair... I still haven't come up with the right idea for it yet and I want to do that story justice, as I know a lot of people (me included) love that story more than most. It needs to be special. Nothing should change in terms of content though. Still 2 chapters per week from me, hopefully. Just thought I'd keep you all updated on my plan for those who care Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 19: Dryad Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “H… huh? What? What do you mean ‘weakening her’?” asked Serrill, who watched Aurelia rub her toasty hands together, brushing them off each other after fire had just been erupting from them. “Like I said, this should weaken her. Now… we kill her,” replied Aurelia, nonchalantly. “YOU SET FIRE TO HALF THE FOREST!” Isolde yelled as she marched up to the warlock, wagging her finger in anger at Aurelia’s face. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? IT’LL KILL US!” “Just stay away from the fire and you’ll be okay… You know how to do that, don’t you, Isolde? Or do you need that doing for you too?” Aurelia replied, rolling her eyes at the arrogant bard. “How does destroying everything around us weaken her?” This time, Isolde’s voice was at a much more reasonable pitch, knowing she couldn’t just yell at the warlock without it backfiring on her again. “Because she draws power from it. She’s like Thistle, they get more powerful when they’re around nature. When they’re near plants, trees, roots… as they no longer need to conjure spells, they can manipulate the plants themselves, which is a lot more powerful, and a lot less energy intensive.” “You… know that about Thistle?” asked Serrill, interrupting the heated argument between the bard and the warlock. “Of course. Don’t you?” replied Aurelia. “Yes, but only because I’m an elf. I figured it out when I was young. Didn’t think a tiefling warlock could have figured that out.” “But you’re not a wood elf…” Aurelia replied, raising her eyebrow. “Mum was a wood elf. Taught me a lot about nature when I was a little one.” “Wood elf and a high elf… together? Interesting…” “So how do you know about how druids commune with nature?” Serrill asked the tiefling. “Had a thing with a druid back in Galathaes. He taught me a lot,” Aurelia said, before pausing for a second. “...Plus Thistle gets a bit too mouthy when they’re drunk. Once or twice they showed off after we finished a few bottles of wine. Complete lightweight. Good druid though.” “Oh…” Serrill replied, a hint of sadness in her voice as she realised Thistle had never told her about how their abilities work. She thought they were closer than this, but then she rarely got drunk with the others and usually went back to their room just as the parties were getting good. “Look, the fire is spreading and looks like it’s probably covered half the forest by now…” Aurelia said, quickly changing the subject. “How are we not running out of oxygen?” asked Isolde. “The sky above us isn’t real… Surely the smoke will fill the limited space and make it hard for us to breathe?” “Whatever is causing the sky to be projected must also filter out the smoke somehow.” “But you knew this in advance, before you set fire to everything… right?” “Let’s go. By now, she’s feeling the loss of this plant life. She should be weak enough to kill,” replied Aurelia, shrugging off Isolde’s question as she marched forward, towards the large tree at the centre of the burning forest. The large tree that was currently ablaze. Trundling through the smoke-filled forest, trees and plants reduced to ashes around them, the party made their way towards the centre of the floor, where the large, burning tree stood tall. “So we just kill her, normally, right?” asked Isolde. “No special things we have to do, no rituals, no tricks? Just stab her?” “Yes. She should be relatively weak now. And be careful to avoid hitting Thistle, she may be using them as a shield.” “So there is a caveat…” Isolde replied, rolling her eyes. She would much rather just kill the dryad, even if Thistle got in her way. “Just deal with it,” snapped Serrill, much to the surprise of Isolde and everyone around them. Serrill doesn’t snap at people, so they all figured she must be really pissed right now. And Aurelia knew just how powerful that little elf could be, so she started feeling bad for the dryad as they neared the tree. “Wow… that thing… is…” “DESTROYED?” screamed the Dryad, who stood in front of the burning tree, her silhouette standing out in the middle of the surrounding wall of fire. “YOU BURNED DOWN MY HOME? YOU FUCKING MONSTERS!” “I take it we’re the first to resort to such tactics?” Aurelia shrugged. She didn’t care at this point, she wanted her friend back and she wasn’t about to lose her free will just for the desires of some rather powerful weirdos. “OF FUCKING COURSE YOU ARE! I’ve been killed before, by many parties sent here as tribute. I’ve been stabbed, exploded, disintegrated, had my head chopped off… and sure, that was horrible and hurt like a motherfu… but NO ONE EVER BURNED DOWN MY FUCKING HOME!” “Then give us back our druid,” Aurelia replied, no anger in her voice. It was so calm and devoid of emotions that even Serrill was concerned about the warlock’s reply. “ALL THIS, FOR THAT FUCKING LITTLE HALF ELF?” “Yes. So either give them back, or we kill you and take them.” “P… please…” Serrill added, trying to make them appear less like monsters right now, much to the chagrin of Aurelia, who rolled her eyes at the little elf. “I don’t care what she thinks of you… I will turn you all into my little toys,” replied the Dryad. In the blink of an eye, the dryad was gone. “Shit!” Isolde cried out, looking around frantically for any sign of their opponent. “She’s still quick…” Aurelia mumbled to herself. Serrill clutched on to her staff tightly, ready to cast a spell as soon as she saw anything remotely dryad-shaped. Vico readied his axe, gripping it tightly in both his hands, ready to swing at a moment's notice. All whilst the two disarmed party members, Magnus and Herta, stood at the back, watching. “Watch out for her… she could appear at any…” A blur rushed past Aurelia as she said this, cutting her sentence short. “She’s too fast!” “But she’s not as powerful now. Imagine what we’d be up against if we didn’t take away her main source of power…” Another blur ran past them. Vico and Isolde turned around, weapons at the ready, facing where they had just felt a presence. Aurelia did the same thing, but quickly turned back to face Serrill… who was looking right at her, unaware of the danger lurking behind her… “SERRILL! GET…” Vines shot out from the pile of ash behind them, hunting the elf and quickly wrapping themselves around her slender body. “EEEEEK!” she squealed as the smooth vines ensnared her, gripping her tightly, pressing her staff against her body and face. “Don’t move!” shouted Aurelia, who was trying to come up with a plan to free her friend… all whilst trying to focus on the threat now behind her. The one that she could hear her other companions fighting. “AURELIA, HELP US!” screamed Isolde, her voice accompanied by the clashing of steel and what sounded like armour. “I… I…” The vines squeezed the elf a little tighter, which had an intended consequence for the poor cleric. As it constricted against her body, she felt a pressure on her bladder. She could tell what was going to happen, but she was powerless to do anything about it. ‘At least I’m protected…’ she thought to herself as she felt a warm stream flooding her lower region. She would’ve never admitted it, not even to herself, but she actually enjoyed the warm feeling down there, especially after the previous accident that she had earlier at camp had turned cold, which was extremely uncomfortable for the poor girl. So now that cold damp feeling was being replaced with the same warm pleasant feeling she experienced earlier… she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief and pleasure, despite the current situation. “HOLD HER OFF, I NEED TO FREE SERRILL!” yelled Aurelia, turning her back on her two companions. She figured they could fight the dryad off themselves whilst she focused on freeing her friend, who was currently unable to fight back. It was a logical decision… at least that’s what she kept telling herself as she mentally prepared herself for what was probably going to be the most accurate spell she had ever cast. At least she hoped it was. For Serrill’s sake. An eldritch blast fired from her outstretched hand, perfectly hitting each vine, with the third one being the only one that missed. ‘At least it shot off past Serrill and didn’t hit her,’ Aurelia thought to herself as the third blast hit a burning tree in the background. Recoiling in pain, the vines uncoiled themselves from the shaking elf, who fell to her knees, shivering, as her staff landed on the ground with a loud thud. “I… than… thank you…” Serrill mumbled, smiling awkwardly at her saviour. “Anytime, sweetpea. Think you can still fight?” “I… uh huh… just… give me a… give me a target…” “No, you focus on support,” Aurelia replied, bending down and grabbing the cleric’s staff before handing it back to her. “And watch our backs for any other surprise attacks by vines. I know there isn’t much forest left after what I did, but there are still a lot of roots around us that the dryad can take control of.” “I… fine…” sighed Serrill, who desperately just wanted to cast a fireball at someone’s face. Aurelia nodded and smiled, before turning back to the two currently fending off attacks by the dryad directly. And just as she turned around, Isolde thrust with her rapier, trying to pierce the thick hide of the dryad, but it just bounced off. Vico leapt up, swinging with his axe and landing a good hit on the dryad’s arm… but that too just deflected off the dryad’s dense arm, as if it was made of metal. “I THOUGHT YOU SAID SHE WAS WEAK?” Vico cried out behind him, towards the warlock. “Weak-ER!” she replied. “THEN WHAT DO WE DO? I CAN’T PIERCE HER DENSE FORM!” “She’s made of plants, right?” Serrill mumbled from behind Aurelia. “What was that, sweetie?” “She’s made of plants… so I could just… you know… fireball… umm…” “Clever girl! STAND BACK YOU TWO…” Aurelia instructed Isolde and Vico, who quickly jumped backwards, clearing space for the warlock to do her thing. Serrill just sighed. Yet again she was ignored. She could probably just fireball this dryad and kill her in one spell… but there was no way she was going to speak up for herself, especially not when Aurelia is in charge. No one ever listens to the poor girl. With another blast of her hands, just like how she set fire to the forest, a wave of flame erupted from her hands, heading directly at the dryad… …But before the flames could reach the Forest Lord… the dryad dashed away, laughing. “DAMMIT!” Aurelia cursed, before stumbling a bit. “I… I think I’m a bit drained.” “What do we do now?” Isolde said, sounding frightened. That’s when Aurelia felt something hit her in the arm, causing her to cry out in pain. “OWW! What was that for?” She turned to look at what had hit her in the arm, to see a small little elf with her fist clenched and held out in front of her… and with the biggest pout on her face. If she wasn’t so cute right now, Aurelia may have actually been angry at being punched, even if it wasn’t a particularly powerful hit. Think of when you bang your elbow on the edge of a table, it was that kind of pain. “What?” Aurelia growled at the elf, whose furrowed brow resembled that of a toddler who had been told they can’t go play outside. Serrill knew her words weren’t going to do anything. No one ever listened to her. So she held out her staff with one hand, before pointing at it with her other… then pointed at herself… then out at the distance. “You… want to give it a go?” Nodding, still completely non-verbal, Serrill looked more serious than she had ever been. “Fine. But only because we have nothing else we can throw at her. Isolde… ‘inspire’ her, will you?” It was Isolde’s turn to sigh now, though it appeared she was doing it at the same time as the cleric. “Do I need to?” Isolde complained. “I don’t need her!” replied Serrill. “I don’t care. Isolde, power her up. Serrill, get ready. Vico… I need you to distract the dryad, making sure she doesn’t move, got that?” Aurelia ordered. Vico nodded. He wasn’t sure what their plan was, he wasn’t even aware they had decided that Serrill was going to try and cast a spell. All he heard was his name, and that he had to distract the dryad. That’s all he needed. Vico ran out towards the dryad, who had stood in the distance laughing at the group, mocking them. Diving under the dryad's long, slender legs, the halfling leapt to his feet again on the other side of her, causing her to turn around to face him, just in time for his axe to come crashing down. If she had been just a second slower at turning around, he would have had a chance of planting his axe in her chest… if that would even do anything at this point. And with her distracted, Serrill began chanting, holding her staff in front of her, closing her eyes and focusing the energy within her, focusing all the light around her… when suddenly a burst of inspiration flooded her body. This was new to her, as Isolde was already stingy with her lute, she would only play it if it meant life or death… or if someone offered her something good for playing. Which usually meant only Magnus or Aurelia got any inspiration buffs from her, never their ‘healer’. So this new feeling tingled, making the cleric’s body feel… good. Like… really good. Something about this force flowing through her, along with the warm, damp feeling between her legs… was distracting. And this was the worst possible time to get distracted. No… she had to concentrate. Focus. She needed to save Thistle. She… she… needed… she… she… One deep breath, and a quick promise to herself to take care of that business later… she let the power from the bard flow through her, into the small, fiery orb that began forming at the tip of her wooden staff that was rapidly growing larger by the second. “NOW!” ordered Aurelia, causing the cleric to nearly fumble her spell, but at the last moment she kept focus and fired it off successfully, aiming directly at the Dryad’s back. ======================================================= 😈 Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 18: Taken Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “And why do we need to do that?” Isolde cried out, grabbing her things in frustration, ready to move on to find the exit to this cursed garden. “Because they’re our friend?” Serrill replied, still trying to process everything that just happened. “Friend?” Isolde snapped back. “‘Acquaintance’ more like. ‘Colleague’ at best.” “Isolde. Stop it. You know we have to get them back,” Aurelia said, using her most authoritative voice to put the bratty bard in her place. “No, we don’t. They got captured. That stupid dryad took them off and said to us that the way up was open. We can move on. So let's do exactly that!” “And you think this isn’t a trap?” “A trap? Why would it be a…?” “Because the Mistress of this Spire wants our companions to follow us, remember? She wants them to remind us of what will happen to the rest of us if we fail.” “I…” “So you think we’re allowed to just wander off, leaving one of us behind… when we could have the humiliation of having Thistle following us, all bound up like that?” “I… SHUT UP! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO RIGHT ALL THE TIME? GODS… YOU’RE SO FRUSTRATING! I’m just as intelligent as you, but you don’t hear me going on all the time about how smart I am.” Just so you know, she does do this. All the time. Despite being less intelligent than the party’s two most intelligent members, Aurelia and Serrill, she loves to think she’s smart, often looking down on Vico for his single-digit brain cell count. She even belittles Herta and Magnus sometimes, despite them being just as intelligent as she is. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. I’m not ‘going on about how smart I am’, I’m just stating that if we want to make it out of here alive, we better stick together. Even if something has happened to Thistle to cause them to be like our other two corrupted party members. Because if we don’t…” “‘The Mistress punishes us’,” Isolde interrupted, quickly realising what she just said. “Eww. Now you’ve got me sounding like those weird cults who do all that weird sex stuff.” “They’re not cults. And it’s not weird,” Aurelia said, rolling her eyes and grabbing her stuff from nearby. “What do you know?” “A lot more than you, clearly…” grinned Aurelia. “I knew you got action but damn… why do you-?” “I’m not discussing my sex life. Even if it is a lot more active than yours.” “Hey! I get sex! I get it all the time. Day and night. Whenever I want!” “And when was the last time you did it?” Aurelia just stood there, tapping her foot, waiting for an answer. “Well obviously we’re on an adventure now… but…” “Well?” Aurelia knew she had the upper hand. She wasn’t any kind of stalker, but she liked to know where her party members were going, especially Isolde. Because one of these days, she knew Isolde would stab them all in the back for a gold piece. “I… shut up!” “Grab your gear, and let's get going. That goes for all of you!” she said, turning her attention to the whole camp. “We need to save Thistle. Even if the dryad has corrupted them, we need them back, otherwise we may find the exit is not actually unlocked. As the party got their gear together, packed their camp up, and hastily ate what provisions had been cooked by Magnus during the tense standoff, Aurelia couldn’t help but worry about her friend. Because no matter what Isolde said, Aurelia considered Thistle a friend. Sure, the paladin, the bard and the barbarian were more like colleagues to her, like Isolde had clearly stated, but Aurelia cared deeply about Serrill, Thistle and Herta. And after seeing what the Huntmaster did to Herta… she didn’t want the same or similar happening to Thistle. Or any of her friends. “Ready?” Aurelia called out, looking back at the party, which just felt… wrong… to her now that Thistle wasn’t with them. Having Magnus and Herta with them, even if they’re both… not themselves right now… was comforting, if a bit weird, but having one of them completely missing hurt Aurelia more than she’d care to admit. Even to herself. Isolde didn’t care about the druid. She was as selfish as they come, and she only cared about getting out of this alive. And as much as she’d hate to admit it… Aurelia was right. No doubt if they rushed for the exit, the Mistress has probably laid some kind of trap for them to punish them for leaving a party member behind. So for now, she’d tag along. Vico still wasn’t sure what was going on. He was snacking on a piece of bread, completely oblivious to anything that was going on around him. His tummy was full, he had his axe freshly sharpened… and now he’s going to get to go kill some big plant lady. This would be considered a good day in his book. If he knew how to write. Serrill… Serrill hung back with the two ‘out of commission’ party members. Earlier, whilst she watched Magnus cook in his fancy little maidservant outfit, and Herta wandered about sniffing plants, she couldn’t help but wonder… How much of their original personality is still in there? How much of them is still conscious? Or have these new ‘personalities’ or whatever you call them completely erased the old them? They couldn’t have gone completely though, she thought to herself, because otherwise how would you return them to their original states? They have been promised that if they defeat the Mistress, and take over the tower, they’d have the power to return them to their natural state. Which, to her, would indicate that some piece of Herta and Magnus is still in there. She just hoped that it wasn’t awake right now. Especially in Herta’s case. Though… Magnus could do with a bit of humiliation. So as they wandered out into the danger of the forest, taking it slower than before due to Thistle’s absence, the party stayed silent. Except for Serrill. “Magnus?” she whispered to the paladin in the frilly maidservant uniform. “Yes, Mistress Serrill?” he replied. “Are you… umm…” “Am I what, Miss?” “Are you… still you?” “I should think so, Miss. Otherwise I would be no good at my job!” “No, I mean… are you… are you still the same Magnus? Magnus… my friend Magnus?” “I don’t understand, Miss. I would love to be your friend, but it is not my place to be friends with those I serve.” “I… oh…” Serrill’s voice dropped in disappointment, sighing. “Umm… Herta?” She turned to the puppy-fied dwarf, who was obediently walking alongside her on all fours, still completely naked. “ARF!” Herta cried out, happily. “Are… are you still you?” Serrill asked her. “Miss Serrill, why are you talking to the dog like that?” asked Magnus. “She’s not a dog! She’s my friend! She’s funny and kind hearted and lovely and protective and…” “She’s a dog, Mistress.” “Not when we defeat that damn Mistress. I swear… I’m going to get my friends back. I know the real you is in there, somewhere. That counts for you too, Magnus.” “Very well, Miss. If you say so,” the paladin bowed, without missing a step. “Serrill?” Aurelia called out from the front of the line. “Yeah?” she responded. “Shush.” “But…” “I can’t focus on detecting these traps with you talking. Without Thistle this is going to take a lot longer. They had a really good sense of nature-based traps and without that… we’re a bit screwed.” “Sorry! I just…” “What?” “I was worried…” “They’ll be okay. We’ll get them back. Thistle included. Promise.” “Pinky promise?” Serrill’s voice cracked a bit. Stopping in place suddenly, Aurelia turned to face the elf and marched forward until she was standing face to face with the nervous little cleric. “Sweetie, pinky promise,” she whispered to the elf, so that none of the others could hear. “Also… I’m sorry I haven’t been checking, but are you… you know…?” “Am I what?” Serrill whispered back. “...Wet?” The elf’s cheeks turned bright red as her eyes widened in shock. “I… umm…” “Think you can manage until we defeat this dryad?” “I’ll… I’ll be fine.” “Good girl. And then I’ll change you, okay?” “I’m… I’m not a baby…” Serrill pouted. “I know you’re not, but you need help with this, don’t you?” “...Maybe…” “Then we’ll find somewhere private after we’ve kicked this walking tree’s arse, and we’ll get you cleaned up, okay?” “Will… will I still have to wear… them…?” “Yes, sweetie. You’re still having accidents. So we need to make sure you’re not distracted. You’re an important member of this party, remember that.” “I… okay. Thank you…” “Good girl.” Again, those two simple words made the elf’s legs feel like jelly. “What was all that about?” Isolde asked, seemingly frustrated that they were whispering about something that the bard couldn’t be involved in. Aurelia turned round and put her best fake smile on. “Serrill just needed a little pep talk, is all. Right, everyone ready to continue? I think I may have a plan, though let’s continue on a bit longer, towards that big tree in the distance. If the dryad is anywhere… that’s where she’ll be.” “So, Aurelia, how do we kill a dryad?” asked Vico, walking close behind her as they made their way through the forest. “I’ve been thinking about that since we first encountered her…” Aurelia replied, trailing off at the end. “And?” “I’ve got an idea.” “Care to share it with the class?” Isolde asked, seemingly unimpressed with the current leadership. “I think we can lure out the dryad and weaken her enough to kill her in one simple act.” “And that is?” “We need to get closer to the centre of the forest… but not too close. If we fight her too close to that big tree, I think she’ll be too powerful for us to defeat. But if we fight her just a small distance away, after luring her out with my idea… she should be weak enough to defeat.” Even Serrill was questioning this plan. “You’ve still not told us what this idea of yours is…” she said. “Sweetie, trust me, okay? I promise this plan will work. I just need you to all be ready for a fight when I start it.” “Start what? The plan?” asked Vico. Aurelia stopped suddenly, causing everyone behind her to nearly barrel into each other. “No… this…” Pulling back her sleeve, she held out her crimson hand, holding it up as if she was clutching something. “I still have no idea…” Vico was quickly silenced by Serrill, who put a hand on his shoulder. “Just let her do this…” whispered Serrill to the halfling. “You have way too much faith in this warlock, lassie.” “And you don’t have enough. She’s gotten us this far. She’s always gotten us through everything. Trust her now.” “Fine.” Now there was finally silence, Aurelia listened out for any sign of the dryad in the nearby forest, but could not sense a thing. So it was time to enact her plan. She didn’t want to do this. Not to something so beautiful. Maybe… maybe Thistle could fix this, once they’ve defeated the Mistress, once they’re in control of the Spire. Either way, she had to do this. She could feel the energy flowing into the dryad during their last encounter. She could sense the power the dryad was absorbing. So by removing that source of power, the dryad should, in theory, be left in a weakened state. Weak enough to kill. Aurelia began by pulling up the other sleeve of her robe, and mimicking her other hand, pointing it upwards, clutched. Concentrating on the palm of her hands, she focused a small amount of her magical energy into both of them, until they began glowing a fiery orange. “Get down. NOW!” she roared. All the party members ducked for cover as the warlock thrust her hands forward, a blazing stream of fire erupting from her palms, towards the nearby bushes and trees. She couldn’t put all her energy into this, she would need to be ready for the ensuing fight. Plus there was no need, the fire would spread quickly in such a densely packed forest. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” screamed Isolde as she backed away as far as possible from the flames. Aurelia turned back to the bard and grinned, her hands still streaming fire from them as she waved them around, making sure to catch as much of the foliage on fire as possible. “I’m… weakening her…” ======================================================= So many people said they should just run and leave poor Thistle behind... I mean firstly... poor Thistle! You're all big meanies to them Secondly, did you think it would be that simple? 😈 Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Chapter 17: Forest Lord Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess Aurelia, Serrill and Thistle all stood up, alert, as the ominous voice echoed through the surrounding forest. Magnus was too busy cooking to care, he had to prepare this food for his ‘Masters’ and nothing would distract him from his duty. Herta didn’t understand anything that was going on, she had found a flower to smell and was currently… attending to business… away from camp. Isolde had rolled off the seat she had made and hid behind it, peeking over nervously to see who the voice belonged to. And Vico… Vico managed to sit up at least. But all he did was grab his axe, place it on his chest, and lay back down again, closing his eyes. “What… what was that?” Isolde asked, with the fear that was taking over her body making her voice tremble. “That… would be the Lord of this floor, no doubt,” replied Aurelia, looking around for any hint of even a direction the voice was coming from. “Clever little warlock… no wonder your patron likes you so much…” the voice said, surrounding the party, as if it was coming from everywhere at once. “SHOW YOURSELF!” Aurelia cried out, clutching her staff, ready to cast a spell as soon as she saw any sign of moment. But nothing moved. “But hmm… which one of you do I beg the Mistress to give me when you all inevitably fail…” “None of us?” Serrill responded, her voice quivering. “You’re very cute, I will give you that,” the voice replied. “Dainty little elf would be fun to play with…” “So you’re a creep too…” sighed Aurelia. “I swear… are you all perverts?” “Perverts?!” the voice was pissed. “How dare you. Yes, the Mimic has… peculiar tastes… but I wouldn’t call us perverts! We just… appreciate things most mortals don’t.” “Like making people act like puppies and horses… or making them wear maidservant uniforms?” “Exactly. I’m not like those two below me. I earned this floor for a reason.” “Oh… so the lower down, the less favoured by the Mistress you are? So what number are you?” Aurelia asked, sounding confident… and smug. “I… hmm… I’m the third Lord… Obviously.” “Out of how many?” “...More than three.” “So you’re basically an acquaintance of the Mistress, rather than an actual friend or companion…” Aurelia said, teasing the Lord. “I… don’t think you’re so clever now, little tiefling. When I deal with you, I’ll get the first pick. Maybe… just maybe… I’ll pick you! Oh the things I’d love to do to you…” “And what would those things be?” “Stop taunting her!” whispered Serrill. “Trust me, sweetie…” Aurelia whispered back to the elf. “Oh I’m not revealing my hand just yet, warlock. I know how tricksy you can be.” “Fine then. Can you at least tell us what you are?” Aurelia asked the Lord. “And give you a clue as to how to defeat me? Not a chance.” “If you’re so powerful… why not just show yourself?” “I… I…” “Ah, so you’re not powerful. Got it. Just another lackey…” “I’M NOT A LACKEY! I EARNED MY PLACE!” “At the bottom of the ladder, it seems.” A gust of wind blew through the forest, rustling bushes and trees, causing leaves to swirl around the makeshift camp as the party readied themselves for combat. “YOU’LL SEE WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE BOTTOM OF THE LADDER!” the voice roared, as a number of leaves gathered in one spot, just outside the perimeter of the camp. “Get ready you lot…” Aurelia said, readying her staff. The swirling leaves formed themselves into a little sphere that spun on its axis, not moving an inch from where it hovered above the ground. And as they built up momentum, they burst out, causing the party to shield their faces with their arms… and once they lowered them again, all they could see, standing in the place where the sphere was just hovering… was a tall, lonely figure. “Is that… a…” Aurelia stood there, gobsmacked. Magnus was still cooking, too busy to look up. Herta still didn’t care, she had returned to camp but was too busy licking the back of her hand with her tongue to notice anything else going on. The others though… the others were entranced by the visage that stood before them. “Not so chatty now, eh?” said the Goddess that stood before them, slowly descending until her verdant feet touched the grass below her. “I… I… thought…” “Thought what, sweet warlock? Oh dear… is someone… a little distracted?” The Goddess sounded so smug right now. She always did when it got to this point in the fight. Whenever adventurers managed to make it to this floor, she’d surprise them like this… and very few could resist staring. “Thought… you were extinct…?” Aurelia replied, finishing her sentence. Which was more difficult than normal due to her jaw hitting the floor. Not physically, obviously, but if it wasn’t attached… it would have. “Extinct? Where did you get that silly idea from?” Before Aurelia could reply, Isolde had jumped up from behind her hiding place, and rushed over to the woman standing just on the edge of the camp. Examining her closely, the bard couldn’t resist the alluring visage that this Goddess took. Starting from her sage-coloured feet, she made her way up the woman in front of her, admiring every aspect of her. Her long, slender legs, the greenery covering her most intimate areas, even the little bits of bark that wrapped around her hips, giving them even more definition. What would be considered more ‘private’ areas on any of the average races was expertly covered up by either olive-coloured leaves or just more bark, but leaving plenty of sage-green skin exposed to entice onlookers. “You… are beautiful…” Isolde said, entranced. “Why thank you, little human, and who are you?” the verdant woman said, in a flirtatious voice. “I… Isolde…” “Isolde. What a lovely name. And how cute you are… for a human…” The silky smooth words pierced the bard’s mind, making her feel bliss running through her veins. “Thank you…” Isolde blushed. “Now, how would you like me to pick you as my toy?” “I’d like that very much, Miss, you’re so beautiful…” That’s when the Forest Lord’s whole demeanour changed, and she looked down at the bard, seemingly unimpressed. “You do realise your techniques are lost on me?” she replied. “Huh?” Isolde was taken aback as the woman stood there, folding her arms in disappointment. “I’ve had my fair share of bards try to flirt with me. You may be able to trick one of the lesser Lords… but not me.” “I…” Isolde was stunned. She had put as much charisma as she had into those deceitful words. But she should have known better, she is useless at flirting after all. “Isolde… She's a dryad. Your flirting isn’t going to work on her…” Aurelia spoke out loud, quickly grabbing the bard by the scruff of her neck and pulling her back to the safety of the group. “Dryad? But those… are… didn’t they all get killed?” asked Isolde, looking up at the warlock and fixing her collar. “I thought so too, but clearly…” “WHAT… did you just say?” the Dryad roared across the campsite. “Oh… looks like she didn’t know about that.” “Wait… is that… what that feeling was all that time ago…” the dryad mumbled to herself, before turning her attention back to the group and standing strong. “You say they all got killed?” “That’s… that’s what we heard…” Aurelia said, trying not to antagonise the Forest Lord. “Not all of them,” the dryad responded. “I can still feel some of them… what happened? I ORDER you to tell me!” “Look, you don’t tell me what to do. But as a fellow nature devotee…” Thistle stepped forward to talk to the dryad. “The dryads tried to prevent the Kingdom’s expansion. The King nearest the grove… they burned it all down.” “That… MONSTER!” The hair-raising scream by the dryad set off everyone’s alarms, so they all readied themselves for a potential attack. “If… if you let us pass…” Thistle began to try to reason with the plant-like woman, but she appeared to be stuck in her own thoughts. “PASS? You’ll be lucky if you leave here alive! You fucking mortals, wandering about, destroying everything for your stone houses… no respect for nature…” “You can’t kill us,” Aurelia spoke up from behind Thistle. “And why not?” growled the Dryad. “Because of the Mistress. You can beat us in combat, sure. You can corrupt us into… well whatever the fuck Magnus and Herta currently are. But you can’t kill us. The Mistress needs her toys. You all do.” “Such a smart mouth…” The look the dryad gave Aurelia… it was as if she had set eyes on her prey. She had her target. And Aurelia definitely knew this, there was no mistaking that gaze from the verdant woman. But before the warlock could react, before she could even say a single word or move a single finger to cast a defensive spell… vines erupted from the ground, entangling her legs, pinning her in place. Making their way up her body, creeping around her torso… there was nothing to stop them because they were just too quick for her to react. In mere seconds they had wound their way up her body, entangling not only her feet and legs… but her hands, fingers, body… even head. And the tip of the vine wrapped itself around her mouth, silencing the warlock as she struggled and strained against her bonds. “MMPMHHHHHH!” Aurelia cried out, panicking. “I like you a lot…” the dryad growled, grinning at the bound warlock who continued to struggle, before slowly walking over to her prey. All whilst the rest of the party froze in fear. “Take me instead!” Thistle replied. Almost nothing would have distracted the dryad from her prey right now. But something about the druid’s cry made her stop in her tracks and turn to face the much shorter fellow nature-worshipper. “What… what was that?” “Take me instead,” Thistle cried out, “You want someone who appreciates nature. That’s me! I’m no shapeshifter, I chose to follow the path of nature, so you’d have a lot more fun with me than with her.” “What makes you think I need someone who appreciates nature? I just need… stress relief.” “I can do that too. Provided my friends don’t manage to defeat you and eventually the Mistress… you can have me.” “Thistle? What the fuck are you doing?” Vico yelled out across the camp. Serrill had figured out what they were doing, but didn’t want the dryad to know, so she whispered down to the halfling, “Aurelia is our strongest, and smartest party member. We lose her, we lose our leader. Thistle is sacrificing themselves so they’ll free Aurelia…” It took Vico a few seconds to process this, as they couldn’t understand why anyone would do that, but if pointy-ears said it, it must be true. “Why don’t I just take you both?” the Dryad said, shocking the whole party. “Because what would you do with a tiefling warlock? You’d get bored of Aurelia in an hour…” Thistle replied, trying to talk her out of doing anything to Aurelia. They figured if they can sacrifice themselves to keep Aurelia safe… they’re more likely to make it out of this alive when they kill the Mistress. “And you…?” “I have… stamina. And a respect for everything you love. So please, take me. Just… let her go,” Thistle pleaded. “And let her kill me? No. I think I’ll take my prize…” The dryad stopped mid-sentence, looked at the druid, and thrust her hands upwards, causing the same roots that had entangled Aurelia to creep their way up the druid, quickly binding them to the spot. These vines weren’t thorny, they weren’t sharp, they weren’t painful. If anything… They felt smooth and comfortable. And within seconds, the druid was just as stuck as the warlock. And as the party looked towards the entangled druid, a mist began surrounding them, seeping out of the dirt below them, until it made it impossible to see anything for anyone. “...And leave. Now… you can all go once I’ve left, the way up is unlocked. But this druid… is mine.” The sound of creaking filled the air, the same noise you’d hear being made by branches being twisted. This was accompanied by a small vibration in the ground, making the rest of the party stumble slightly. And moments later… the mist disappeared, leaving the party shaken, left to look around and try to get their bearings again. This included Aurelia, who was no longer bound now. She too looked around in search of someone. Someone who was no longer there anymore. “We need to find Thistle.” ======================================================= Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!