(I derped on posting the previous chapter! This is what I get for pre-writing everything *except* the chapter titles)
Not a moment passes between your arms finishing their drying and you feeling a pressure in your head. It’s not painful as much as makes you dizzy in your hardened head, sending you senses spinning. You recover slowly, a feeling of a presence in your mind indicating something of authority over you. It doesn’t speak, but makes its command known.
***MARILITH. MINE.***
It’s a drive that forces itself in. Whoever is doing this, it’s the one who made this doll costume and this lamia costume. You know it’s the one who gifted you this lovely existence. It’s your owner, and nothing will ever change that. It’s like a puzzle piece locks into place, making you understand that you are nothing more than her object, and that is the place you should be. As you accept and embrace that, more of the presence’s will comes into your comprehension.
***CAPTURE. CONVERT. SPREAD.***
Oh. Oh. So that’s your function. You consider a moment, the ramifications making themselves clear. You’re to make humans into dolls like you and of other sorts. You’re a converter, and others will be too. That makes sense, hence your snake-like body which feels a bit hollow. Any thought or desire to resist is not only gone but never happened in the first place. Even as your Owner’s presence removes itself, there’s still a Her shaped hole in your mind that’s filling itself with obedience to her will. Honestly, you’re grateful for the direction as you slither up, looking about in the room. She gives you some vanity and a sense of self; after all, it’s a kindness and Owner is kind.
AH! There’s a mirror!
Slithering up like you were born, you stare in approval at the form you were given. You’re a delicate young looking woman, late teens and petite. Six arms, long and sculpted of porcelain emanate from her larger shoulders in a triangular pattern, longer than a human’s would be. She’s got a cobra’s hood made of what looks like delicately sculpted stone, no hair and the hint of a muzzle on her cute and serpentine face. As you smile at yourself, you feel a reflex that you didn’t have before. Triggering it, you feel yourself opening *real* wide, and you’re pleased to see that the entire front of your torso seems to unhinge, large enough to stuff dolls to be inside.
Rehinging yourself and speaking as normal, a pair of cute fangs dripping some sort of white goop visible as you speak, you giggle out “I’m a monssssssster, rawr~” pleased with the sibilant tones you seem to naturally have. Your large body slithers towards the door, waiting to open it if you feel any sign of life.
You don’t have long to wait though, as you see…