Learning a Little History and Setting a Few Traps .

I beckoned the three pseudo-elfs to rise. I looked them over on multiple spellwave frequencies and was satisfied that nothing short of a God’s Eye or someone with an epic challenge rating was going to be able to tell the difference between my three emanations of Zansa, Ishla, and Arna and the genuine articles. Looking at their matrices on a motonic level, it was like seeing a condensed copy of my mind tapping into a copy of the elf girls mind to make them behave the way they normally would, if they had my thoughts, desires, and beliefs in the back of their head. The girls were fully autonomous, though they were also soulless extensions of my own core. At the time it was all quite overwhelming, but the important thing was that I could keep the three witches locked up indefinitely and no one would be the wiser. I looked at Barla and Zelda, the two slaves looked to me with gazes that asked the same question ‘now what?’

From the time I died up until that moment, I had only been reacting. I was pulled out of the darkness of the void and thrust into a world I knew nothing about other than that it ran on magic and bondage. I looked out the window at the cityscape and noticed in the distance that the sky was cracked open and leaking pixels. The pixels that rained down on the city bounced away like rubber balls on a wind shield.

“I take it that they do not have chaos storms where you come from.” Barla said, noticing the way my gaze was transfixed on the tear in reality. “We did not have them until about twenty years ago. It was right as the big war was starting. I remember my momma telling me stories about how before The Storm Surge orcs, monsters, adjinn, and the other darklin species had real hope that The Demon Queen and her Freedom Horde would finally free us after five hundred years of slavery. It seemed like things were going our way when every dungeon and light-spring got saturated with chaos energies. Light became dark, dark became light, fire became air, earth became snow, every moton of wild magic just decided to rearrange itself. Then the glitches and flux-beasts started their devastation. With the Horde fighting a two front war with their supply lines cut off and the Federation sorcerers developing with their next generation slavery spells at the same time they started warding their cities and settlements…when I was a runt, the elves and the purhumes used to make more of a point of reminding us that slaves only live because the higher orders allow us to and that we should be grateful for the chance to atone for our original sin through devoted submission. Zansa’s mother did not think my momma showed enough zeal when she licked her owner's boots, and when they found some old drawings I had made of The Demon Queen leading us to freedom, the mistress decided to give me a lesson in how well the new **** bands work by making me spread milk, honey and sugar over my mother's body while she lay in the ant farm. They did not stake my mother down or anything or anything, the mistress ordered her to lie down and ordered me to help encourage the ants to take her from me. And we both did what our gods ordained owner commanded of us as if it were a written order from the Six Thrones.” The orc woman sniffed back her tears. “I am sorry Master. I do not know what came over me. Most owners do not care about their slaves’ feelings or trauma, which means that we literally cannot talk about them, ever. But you must care, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to ramble on like this.” Barla walked over and wrapped her arms around me. “What are you thinking, my Master?”

“That I am a stranger in a strange land. That I do not know very much about this new world, but the more I see of it the more I see things I would like to change. But if I am going to make those changes, it will take time, and information that I do not have.”

Before I can even start to think to call out his name, Ariel lets out a loud sigh from his corner. “Yeah yeah, we are coming Master.” The angel says. The femboy glides majestically across the air hand and hand with his neko-boy lover. The sissy youths give one another looks of passion and love as they fly silently to your feet. Ariel kisses your left toes while Igbert kisses the right. “““Master””” They say.

I sigh and look at the orc woman, the cat-boy, and the dog-girl that were now in my care and under my protection. “Alright. I want you all to try and act as normally as you can, your mistresses are gone now, they can never hurt you or command you to do anything you do not want to do ever again. These three…” You gesture to the emanations of the elf witches. “In public you will pretend like they are your owners, and you are to act as if they are the same elf bitches that you used to belong to and you will pretend to still belong to them.

“In private however, these three will attend to YOUR needs. They will serve YOUR desires, and they will do everything within reason to please YOU. How does that sound?” Zelda and Igberd both wagged their tails in excitement, but Barla looked skeptical.

“That is all well and good for them, Arna and Ishla were roommates, but Zansa lives down the hall and her roommate is very traditional, her boyfriend is even worse, and Zansa has given them both complete privileges with me. Those two make Zansa seem downright pleasant and accommodating by comparison. I am not sure how well your clone is going to be able to protect me and keep her cover at the same time. So, thanks, but it is not going to stop Gonilna from making me start my day with The Shame Dance or Rolnin from insisting that I thank him for the privilege of cleaning his ass.”

It did not take me but two shakes of the lambs tale to come up with a plan. “****-Zansa.” I said, the blue haired elf stepped forward.

“Yes, Master.” The pseudo-elf replied. “I exist to serve you.”

“You are going to take Barla and I back to your room and show off your new sex demon to your roommate and her boyfriend. You are going to insist that both of them fuck me. You are going to tell them, truthfully, that my cum has amazing properties including healing properties, and to prove the point.” I snaked out a light tentacle from my crotch and squeezed out a healthy amount of my glowing goo onto Barla’s scar. The light semen soaked into her old wound causing the scar tissue to peel away to reveal fresh, healthy skin.

“Thank you.” Barla said, trying to hold back her tears of joy. “Master. Your plan is good, but there is one, small problem, Rolnin is avowedly straight, like angry, closet case, self-hating homophobia, straight. He would not touch you even if your semen could make him level 145, he would never let a man touch him.

<Yes> Ariel told me before I could even ask the question. “Bring me a mirror.” I commanded Ishla and Arna’s replicants. With later practice, I found that in a manner similar to Ariel, my emanations could read my feelings and desires and act as direct extensions of my will, but I found I would develop the habit of speaking to my constructs of light as if they were real people, especially when in company. I looked at my reflection. At first what I saw was a low resolution, pixelated cloud of motes where my face should have been. I found though that when I looked at myself on the right spellwave frequency that I was basically a living reflective glamour. Everyone who looked at me saw the face of their own desires looking back at them. My other features were a little more universal across perceptions. My hair was a mane of spiky dreadlocks which seemed to burn a variety of colors but not catch fire. I practiced changing my hair light by will, which took some effort, but I found that I could make my hair blaze with whatever colors of light I desired. My skin was some sort of living bronze. Not like I had a really good tan, but It was as if my whole body was cast out of civilization’s original alloy. Yet for all its hardness, my skin was as soft and supple as a new born babies, just a lot harder for a lance to pierce. Of course between my legs was another matter entirely. What was going on down there was next level creation magic which I still do not entirely have a grasp on even after all these years. I practiced willing the hardlight into my hands and feet and found that it was easier to keep some of the energies wrapped around my forearms and calves.
"Let's see if we can make ourselves look more appealing for Rolnin." I said to myself as I focus on changing.

I focused my attention inward, all the way the the essential matrix connected to my core. I tweaked one piece of coding ever so slightly, changing a single Y to an X. The funny thing was, it had no effect on my reproductive system or genitalia at all. Everything else... My body shifted, twisted, bent and pulled until instead of a sexy nephilim male staring at me, I saw the shape of a sexy, nephilim woman. My spiky dreads had transformed into flowing locks which seemed to possess a lighter-than-air quality. I looked at the light wrapping my limbs and shaped and hardened it until it took the form of elaborate **** bands.

“Damn.” Igbert said. “Does this mean I have to call you mistress from now on?” The neko-boy said.

“You are really pretty, Master.” Zelda said.

“Thank you sweetie.” I said noticing that my voice was now that of a sultry alto. “It is interesting.” I said toying with my boobs. I turned to Barla. “Will Rolnin want me now?” I asked. The orc woman’s mouth was slightly open as she nodded an affirmative. “Well then. Zansa. Let’s meet your roommates.”