A chance existence is given purpose by the king and queen's wishes

In the midst of the mass breeding of spiders for the army of Othrys, one curious creature came into being. It was a reject, something that had been created that didn't fit the goal and mold of the eight-legged swarm, and so had been discarded, alongside the others that were similarly defective. Most of those expired quickly, lacking any semblance of proper function and so unable to continue. This thing, little more than a smooth, unsegmented worm with a generally flesh-colored skin, did not understand that it was not the same. It didn't even understand that it was capable of much more than its arachnid brethren. It only sensed that it could do nothing where it was and so began to move.

It existed in a state of moving, constantly progressing. If it had understood time or the concept of a goal, that journey might have had meaning, but without those, it simply continued. Barriers only served to redirect its movement, skewing its direction a bit. The thick tangle of the Rose Wall proved no more an obstacle for it than a rat maze, requiring only time until it slithered out the other side. Having still not detected any change in its miniscule perception, the worm continued on.

Its progress was suddenly changed with a jerk and the incomprehensible sensation of moving while not moving. To anything with intelligence, the simplicity of a worm being carried by a bird was inconsequential. For the smooth worm, its limited comprehension could do nothing and so it did nothing. Without a sense of time, it didn't know how long it remained like this, until suddenly it was no longer moving. Still not sensing anything around it, the small slug once again began crawling. Without a sense of time, speed was beyond its capacity, so its slow scaling of a wall and descent on the other side were as unremarkable as the rest of its journey. Nothing mattered, so long as it could continue.

A flare on the edge of its rudimentary awareness changed that and the worm began crawling towards it. For the first time in its existence, it had a goal and sensed its purpose. The thin blockade it encountered when it had nearly reached the aura impressed upon it caused a moment of delay, until it found a hole and crawled inside. Then the sense of rightness settled over it and its existence changed. It expanded.

With a throaty, gasping moan, Sierra Trudeau thrashed away from her nap, her muscles spasming briefly before she stopped, laying calmly and staring up at the ceiling. She breathed, air tickling her nose and lips as it flowed in and caused her chest to expand, only to reverse course a moment later. Her heart beat slowly and powerfully, a constant thump in her chest. She was intimately aware of those two phenomena as her two existences finished merging together into one, giving her the knowledge of both.

Sierra's memories filled her mind, informative and enlightening. Sierra Trudeau was the daughter of an infamous crime boss and heir to the family business. She had taken over small facets of the trade from a young age, with the amount only increasing once the extent of her brilliance had been revealed. At 16, she had singlehandedly been in charge of the family finances; at 20, negotiating deals and bribing officials. By the time she was 24, she had almost singlehandedly elevated her father's organization to three times its former size and gained a massive amount of prestige in the criminal world. The fact that she was decidedly a knockout, with long golden brown hair, a gorgeous face, and a trim figure, only helped.

That had only lasted until it all came crumbling down. One member's bad deal and traitorous manipulation had Sierra unknowingly delivering herself and a few of her trusted lieutenants right to a handful of government agents laying in wait. With leadership captured, the net closed around the rest of the organization, demolishing it and leaving too much evidence for even the best lawyers to deny. Sierra had been sentenced to sixty years in prison for the crime of being good at the only thing she had ever known and whisked away to her new life as an inmate.

Fortunately, her hidden personal stash had been just enough to get her imprisoned in Orchid Mantis Penitentiary, a special high-security women's prison created precisely for these types of situations. Thanks to generous anonymous donations and maddeningly convoluted legislature, the prison was more like a paradise for the elite women of society **** to pay for their mistakes. They had practically everything they could want, from good food to cells that more resembled a small but nice college dorms. Communal areas were suitably posh and the guards maintained a respectful attitude. After all, it was no secret in the prison that those attached to the women inside were the ones paying their salaries.

As such, Sierra had found herself comfortable in her imprisonment and wanting for little. Minimal presence of guards except to dissuade the occasional heated argument and even rarer catfight made the whole place feel more like a multigenerational sorority than a government prison, something that suited Sierra quite well. Growing up running her father's criminal empire hadn't left much room for socializing except during negotiations and actually having something approaching friends was a welcome change. Even so, Sierra often found she had to spend some time alone in her 'cell' to recharge, usually with a nap. That exact chain of events was what had led to her laying in her underwear on a small couch in her quarters, perfectly **** for the small worm to come in through the barred window and slither into her ear and brain, joining the two individuals into One.

"We like this," Sierra mumbled to herself, her tongue in her mouth feeling old and new at the same time. The disconnect between who she had been and who she was was rapidly fading as she remembered how to move. "We will enjoy this. We are beautiful." Sierra's flat gaze gained a bit more life as her hand began roaming her body, curvy and smooth. Heat bloomed in her skin and lust flooded her senses, instantly moistening her pussy. Dexterous fingers slid past the waistband of her panties and into her cunt, no teasing required. She had to cum, needed to cum, desperately wanted to feel every iota of pleasure her body could provide. Small breasts on her chest jiggled as she bucked into her fingers, impassioned moans echoing in the small room.

Alone with herself, Sierra had no trouble bringing herself to climax after climax, each one further entrenching her new state of being. As she recognized more of herself, she was able to discern the parts she had come from, the original Sierra and the worm, and how they intertwined. Most of her remained the same, her core identity as Sierra unchanged. But underneath it was a constant, pulsing need; different from the one in her body, this one was in her mind. It was some holdover from the worm that had merged into her new being and it would not stop urging her towards some unknown action. Whatever it was, it wasn't masturbating, as yet another powerful orgasm sent her legs spasming without diminishing the feeling.

A sudden outpouring of sound jerked her out of her self-pleasuring reverie and pulled her attention to the lit up TV. She had kicked the remote in the middle of her climax, she realized, though that didn't matter compared to the image on the screen. A newscaster sat at their desk, proper as always, but the picture-in-picture view showed an unearthly handsome man with warm, tanned skin and thick crimson hair. Beside him was a woman that was just as incredible, her locks practically made of gold and her curves the epitome of desire. The image of him was frozen, but Sierra felt an attraction to them, these mystery figures, that she couldn't put into words. It went beyond desire and itched at that urge in her head.

The newscaster was saying something, but Sierra heard something else. A whisper, a wish, made in the past but heard in the present. 'We'll have to get some proper servants for the Citadel,' it said, and the brown-haired woman chose her purpose. They wanted servants, enough to manage a castle, their Citadel, and she could give them that. A retinue of loyal and obedient aides, all happy and eager to serve them, her king and queen. No, Master and Mistress.

The knowledge of how to do it filled her brain, a last gift from the worm part of her former selves before her fusion into One was complete. Her belly grumbled as her womb was altered to fulfill this new purpose along with the rest of her body. Muscle for tasks requiring strength, flexibility and dexterity for things needing a nimble touch, and beauty to please the Master and the Mistress. She instinctively knew they both took pleasure in the female form and so she let her body change to suit them.

Her breathing, something she was still very conscious off, was restricted by swelling breasts filling the lacy cups of her bra, bigger and more alluring in every way. Likewise, her already trim waist sucked in by a few centimeters while her hips did the opposite. Her ass firmed to slapable perfection that would bounce with every step, as her legs were sculpted to be long and slim. Her already considerable beauty was refined slightly, skin cleaned of flaws and hair gaining new lustre, before she felt the changes stop, leaving her the perfect version of herself to serve the Master and the Mistress.

"We won't be enough," she said to herself. "They will need more. We will become more." Her fully prepared womb was empty for now, but she could fix that. It would take time though; the few male guards in the prison either kept their distance or already had arrangements, ones they weren't likely to break. She would need to be careful and take things slow until more women had joined her. It hurt to think that way, she wanted to serve the Master and the Mistress as soon as possible, but rash action would not be beneficial. She would need to pick her targets carefully and already had her first in mind.

"That is for later. For now, we must wait," she whispered to the empty room, remaining sprawled out on the couch as she felt herself ovulate. In a few hours, she knew she would birth a small egg, from which another worm would emerge. It would find a temporary home in her pussy until she could get to the first person in the prison she wanted to join her.