Nothing for now

The Condiment wizard looked at the three dryads and thought about them for a moment. His current plan did not require them; in fact, them appearing could tip his hand and warn others what he was up to. So while they would no doubt prove to be useful in future endeavors, they would have to stay on standby for the moment.

"Wait for your orders as you have been; your time to serve me will come soon enough." The Condiment wizard said, and then had Cheryl bring him back to his cell once she had returned. His mind was turning over his plan again and again, seeing any flaws that would cause it to fall or bring the hammer down on him in a way that wasn't easy for him.

Each of three dryads watches him leave. They were sad to see their master go, for their purpose was to serve him. Which was hard for them to do, as he had given them no task nor did he stick around long enough for them to tempt him into using their bodies as was his right. So for the moment their minds turned towards the past of the life that had decades ago.

The yellow dryad with the rather nice and plump body thought of how she lost it all. Her name had been Fisher Miller, a strange name for a girl, but she'd learn to live with it. Though if Master wanted to change her name, it was his right, and she was perfectly fine with being called dirty names like "sugar tits" for the rest of her new life if that was what pleased her master.

She found herself getting hot and bothered for a moment at the thought of living the rest of her life with a name that was degrading because it made Master happy. She couldn't act on the dirty thought for the moment, so she had to get back to thinking on her fall to avoid touching herself without her master's permission.

She'd been young and ambitious working in the fashion industry of her time. She has dreams of becoming a big name, being someone who all the rich wives of Gotham called for to make the best dresses. She'd work hard, doing double shifts to get more done and spending all her spare time practicing her skills.

She'd drawn attention, of course, as she hoped to, just the wrong sort. She had big breasts even back then, though they were bigger now. The owner's husband noticed this the few times he came over when he was arguing with his wife over finances. He'd been hooked the moment he saw her breasts bounce as she was working the sewing machines.

He'd made advances, which she'd denied, of course. She wanted to be known in the industry for her skill, not because she was a man's whore. Once her boss found out it got far worse. Her boss, as it turned out, was great at spotting fashion trends, not balancing the books. Her husband, of course, made up the difference, but he got quickly tired of doing it month after month.

So when the boss noticed how interested he was in her, she jumped at the chance to have her please her boss's husband while she collected the money. When her boss found out she wasn't interested, she kept trying to push her into it every chance she got. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore, and so she went to the press of the time to tell them of her story.

Her boss found out and got with her husband; together the two had her institutionalized by claiming she was delusional and had gotten several coworkers to back their story. So she rotted in Arkham, her tormentors' tree to go about their lives as she rotted and eventually died at the asylum.

She squeezed her breast for a moment. "The fool never got these, but the master will." Mrs. Miller said she was eager to begin pleasuring her master with her breast and hoped the bastard and bitch were watching from the grave. As Mrs. Miller thought of her tormentors being tormented by watching the debauchery she was doing with her master, the red dryad Cecil Kane was thinking on her last life.

She was angry at how her life had turned out as well. In her youth she was a free spirit, always riding her horse on the estate or wandering the forest. When she became an adult, she went even further, going to dances at speakeasies and having fun with her girlfriends. It made her father furious; he would scream at her that she was a Kane and should act like one.

She'd ignored him and kept on dancing and drinking. It all came to a boiling point when one of the speakeasies she'd been dancing at was raided, and of course the moment newspaper heard she was there when it happened, her picture was put on the front page. It broke her father's last nerve, and so he, in a rage, sent her to Arkham to be fixed.

The nuts working there cracked open her head again and again, trying to correct her by poking and slicing bits of her brain. It didn't work, and so after she was reduced to a broken shell of who she'd once been, they'd put her in the chair, figuring a quick shock would reset her and undo the damage, or at least they hoped it would. She died feeling lightning frying her brain inside and out.

She was very eager to get out there to not only serve her master but also to rob her family of everything they had. It would give her the satisfaction of **** and provide her master with wealth. How he could not be happy with vast fortune to call his own. She would, of course, use her body to sweeten the deal. What man would not go crazy at a woman who destroyed one of the oldest and richest families of Gotham becoming a meek, horny kitten at his feet?

The white dryad watched the other two a bit self-conscious. As she felt her body wasn't as interesting as the other two. Sure, she was a dryad, but with red spikes and large yellow tits, she was average. She has always been average, to tell the truth. She'd been boring Halle Mathews, an assistant to one of the staff at Arkham Asylum.

She worked for one of the doctors who believe he could fix the patients if he just found the reset button in their heads. So for years she had watched patients be **** and put together, doing everything he asked as he committed what would be considered medical atrocities by anyone that was sane. Luckily for her boss, those were in short supply at Arkham Asylum.

So she worked for a madman and somehow was invisible while she did it as well. The first time in her entire life she had been noticed and picked for anything was when one of her bosses' experiments got loose and decided to bash her brains in first. It was the saddest fact of her life. Though, as she thought about it, that was her former life. This time around, she would be picked first by their new master this she promised to herself as she gave the other two dryads dark looks.