“Where was I? Ah, yes! The terms and expectations of your employment. Since your focus is obviously elsewhere, I’ll spare you the riveting play-by-play of how I acquired The Infernal Isles in a game of strip poker from one of my fellow Dungeon Masters.” Making herself comfortable on the throne, Nyla spared the writhing figure a single glance before casting another spell. The conjured parchment and sheets appeared with a gout of sulfuric flame alongside a pair of rimmed glasses. She adjusted the latter, pushing the frame up her nose. “In short: you’ll be a mini-boss, overseeing and managing part of my new dungeon. Hiring outside help provides a fresh perspective on how to lure in adventurers. It’s hard enough to keep up with public relations arms of The Shrine of Primordial Nastiness and The Sepulcher of Anxiety mega dungeons. With me so far?”
While the Succubus Matriarch explained she found room to complain about a cheating no-bodied demi-but-all-ass-lichess. The glowing runic pentagram bathing you in its baleful light also had time to descended down, then through you. Cool...
Your scalped tingled when the rune in the centre of the circle touched you. Spiralling waves of dizziness wormed its way through your skull and into your brain where it was replaced with a boiling heat. The flush creeping into your skin matched Nyla’s scarlet eyes in intensity, leaving you to feel as if you were melting into a puddle of lust. The succubus paused her instruction, cocking an impatient eyebrow when a lock of glossy and night-black hair spilled into your mouth and sent your controlled, panting breaths into spluttering moans. But you were too gone to notice, attention split between your tapering ears, horns breaking open your forehead, eyes turning into obsidian glass set with luminous ruby irises, while your face gradually remodelled itself into an exotic and feminine countenance. Your voice broke into a sultry thrill as the pentagram contracted around your throat.
“Glad someone is enjoying themselves,” the succubus sniffed and waited for her captive audience to be reduced to a wheezing mess. “Renovations and new hiring's are already underway. As a mini-boss, you’ll have creative input as welll. More further down the line if this proves to be a successful venture.” Crossing her legs, she flipped to another page. “Let’s run through a few of the options:
“1) Mmmh, the ancient step-pyramid should be newbie proof. You’d be leading a small tribe of Wyld Elves. There’s the odd monsters and slime here and there as well, but the main theme is deadly –actually, we might change that to lewd– traps rather than personnel. Although by all means keep a boulder trap or two. Keeps the dungeon dwellers on their toes.”
“2) As is, the Jungle area is too cumbersome for an inexperienced manager. Splitting off the beastman and goblin tribes, sharing the nature spirits and the intelligent dire beasts, under two mini-bosses is option I’ve considered. Since space is abundant there’s plenty of room to play around with special projects and expansions.”
“3) Can pencil in your name as mayor of Port Misery. The adventurers, merchants, and the rest of the rabble will have to be corralled, welcomed, and entertained. Outside of that your duties is to primarily liaison with the Adventurer's Guild. On the sly, mind. Sometimes a worrywart noble will pay them, and they us, handsomely for letting their princeling spawn pretend clear a dungeon in the hopes they get it out of their system. Never works; the promises of further glory and riches is too addictive. Gold fever ensures we stay in business.”
“Which touches on one of the exciting perks: prisoners. I don't mind adventurers escaping, in fact it can be beneficial to let out in a relatively unharmed state. The exact nature of ‘unharmed’ varies on if they are rich enough to pay for Resurrection spells or not – and their degree of protection. No cure for stubbornness though. But capturing an uppity hero, breaking them, and corrupting them into a loyal lieutenant is a long-standing tradition. Nyla’s voice turned into a pleased coo. “What I am doing with you, albeit very, very abbreviated.”
The pentagram spasmed when it fell over your shoulders and now narrowing frame. Your clothes were incinerated on touch, exposing patches of black scales that contrasted with the bleached porcelain of your skin. All the lost mass of your formerly masculine and broader arms flowed and pooled into your chest. The succubus’ incantation channeled the excess into your breasts as the central rune burned a path through your heart and lungs. Raising your fingers, your hands were caught midway of your arms’ transformation. Becoming slender and agile, your clawed digits darted to the protruding nipples in an attempt to soothe their aching and pulsing throbs. Even as your voice surrendered further ground to hoarseness, a new energy entered into your cries and swelled as the flat expanse of your chest followed suit.
Slowing down and flaring with the expenditure of magical power. The circle pulled into itself to follow the curve of your lithe hourglass figure. Past the stomach, organs were re-arranged to open up the space for your womb. Working backwards, you felt your pussy connect and crawl outward to meet your shrinking and increasingly sensitive cock. Your tireless fingers didn’t pause when it completed its transition into a clit as they instead found new ways to pleasure yourself. Collapsing onto your ass, your lower limbs weren’t long for this world and shifted into pair of lissome legs and clawed feet before your lidded eyes.
A fanged incisor bit down on your plush and full dark lips as you tried to contain the final discharge of the succubi’s spell racing straight back into your brain.
“A start, but I can see you’ll be far more amenable this way. Once you gathered the sexy mess you made of yourself, why don’t you come sit in auntie Nyla’s lap so we discuss my newest minion’s future prospects.”