Saintly Rebellion (Fate hypno/bimbo fic) (Patreon)

Okay, here's April's story vote story! I hope people enjoy - lemme know what you think!

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Casino Camelot was doing well. Business was booming, the bunny girls were giggling, and QP flowed like wine into the gambling den’s coffers as servants and mortals alike overcommitted themselves to the idea of a jackpot they were never going to reach. The house always wins, after all, and Camelot was a very strong house indeed. But there were always those who sought to defy such obvious truths, both without, and within’…

Take, for instance, the knight of the round table known as Mordred, currently dressed in a somewhat scruffy red bunny girl outfit of her own, much to her obvious displeasure. Not that she disliked the clothing in principle, being rather light and free to move in, though it was also obviously made for women of a much more voluminous figure, but because it signified her allegiance to the house – and therefore, to her father, Artoria Pendragon, the Ruler of this land.

Mordred’s relationship with her father was rather complicated, as anyone familiar with the pair could tell you, and it certainly didn’t help the confused young lass that said father was currently strutting around the place in a much more form fitting bunny girl outfit than her own. It made something in the knight of rebellion boil, and so in turn, she rebelled.

Slightly.

Honestly, it was way too hot and annoying to rebel properly – that would have entailed maybe making her own casino or organizing an employee union for better wages or something, which, eh, wasn’t really her scene. Lead an army? Great. Smash the tyranny of her beautiful farther by dropping the country into a massive civil war? Sure! She was fantastic with a sword; scrapping was where she knew her stuff! But the anti-violence field over the whole casino really took the fun out of that.

So instead she was loafing around while she was supposed to be on duty, abusing her free drinks privileges and spending way more time out on her smoke breaks than she was allowed.

Rebellion is in the little details.

And so it was that she was loitering around the entrance, glaring at potential customers and very much trying to discourage anyone from coming in – which wasn’t very successful, because unbeknownst to Mordred, she has a habit of being effortlessly cute – and her grumpy glowering was really just adding to business. Please, no one tell her, she would be very sad.

But there was someone who was interested in directly addressing the grumpy bun. A certain saintly figure, clothes in a pure white dress, her purple hair drifting on the summer breeze behind her. “Hello there,” Saint Martha said with a cheerful smile. “Can you tell me where to find the one in charge of this place?”

And Mordred, of course, just glared. “Who wants to know?”

“… Mordred.” The saint’s patience took a tiny bit of a hit, and her smile grew a little more strained. “You know who I am.”

“Psh.” The blonde knight shrugged and looked away. “Dunno what you mean, Martha. Never seen you before in my life.”

The two stared at one another. There was no sign of either one backing down. Peace and patience clashed with rowdy rebellion on the battlefield, before the saint just sighed and rubbed her face.

“Look, I need to talk to them. This den of debauchery and sin-“

“Ohh!” Mordred’s eyes lit up. “That sounds aweso-Oh, you mean the casino, don’t you? Man, you made it sound cool for a second.”

“-is an affront to God,” the saint continued as if the knight had never said anything. “And Master’s burning all their QP on the wheel and we’re starting to run short. The casino needs to close.”

The blond knight opened her mouth to respond, and then paused. Slowly, her mouth closed, and she took a drag on her cigarette, eyes shifting from side to side. Martha pursed her lips.

“Well?”

Mordred was silent a moment longer, clearly weighing something up. Then, with one glance from side to side to make sure no one was watching, she smiled and drew ID card from its lanyard around her neck. “You wanna close this place down?” She asked, rolling the card between her fingers. “So I don’t have to wander around getting people drinks in this ridiculous outfit?”

The purple haired saint raised an eyebrow. “I guess?”

“Deal.” The card was shoved into her hands. “The Boss’s office is on the third floor. You can use this to get up there. Go work your weird divine mojo or whatever.”

“Huh.” Martha took the card cautiously. “Is it really okay for you to give me this?”

“Nope!” Mordred looked positively giddy at the thought. “It’s really gunna piss them off. Make sure you tell them it was me who got you in!”

“… Right.” She was never going to understand the relationship between those two. Oh well, no matter. “Thank you, Mordred. I’ll go see to it now.”

And with that she strode through the doors to the grand casino Camelot, fists clenched at her sides like a woman walking into war. The knight of treachery watched her go with a smirk, before returning to leaning on the wall and enjoying her massively extended smoke break. Easiest rebellion ever!

-

The only way up to the top floors was a single elevator shaft that was found in the centre of the casino, behind a firm ‘employees only’ sign and a velvet rope. Martha waded her way over to it, around drunken and debauched patrons, or the occasional gambling glutton, and stepped inside without a hassle. Easy enough. Mordred’s card swiped through the reader located just above the buttons easily, activating the controls without fanfare. Bearing the knight’s advice in mind, she selected the third floor, and rode the elevator up in calm silence. Her mission was clear – to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.

Though she wasn’t actually expecting the elevator doors to open directly into the Bunny King of Knight’s office directly. With a ‘ping’ announcing her arrival, she found herself stepping forward into a rather lavish office with blue plush carpeting, trophies and mementos dotting the wall shelving, a grand oak desk that dominated the room, and a white clad bunny king staring at her with a curiously raised eyebrow.

“Lady Martha, yes?” Artoria asked, having paused in the middle of a batch of paperwork, pen still poised over some sort of contract. “Is there something you needed, O great saint?”

Martha blushed. “Oh, please, I’m no great saint,” she said automatically, slightly charmed despite herself. She waved the flattery off with a flutter of her hand. “But yes, I’d like to discuss a matter of great import. Might I borrow a moment of your time?”

The bunny girl nodded and gestured for the other woman to take a seat. “Of course – since you have come so far, I will grant you an audience. Finding a performer who can play tonight’s entertainment bill can wait a few moments.”

“Good.” Martha smiled and nodded. “I’d like you to shut this casino down.”

“Ah.” Artoria’s brow furrowed. “I see. No.”

“…” There was a moment of tension. Martha’s serene smile didn’t budge, but neither did the king’s flat gaze. It appeared they were at something of an impasse. “But really, you should shut it down.”

“I do not believe I should.” The white clad bun threaded her fingers together, looking at the saint over her clasped hands. “Business is going well, our patrons are enjoying themselves, and Master is certainly happy. There’s no reason to shut down.”

“It’s immoral.” Martha nodded, her self-assured confidence barrelling through even the basic concept that anyone could disagree. “Such a den of sin must be condemned. Surely even you see that!”

“Agreed on all counts,” Artoria nodded amicably, though her countenance never shifted. Even though she had managed to avoid becoming a divine spirit like her counterpart the Lion King, she still had an inhuman aura that made her rather difficult to decipher. “I fail to see why that means I should shut it down.”

“You… You don’t?” For the first time, Martha stumbled. She hadn’t been expecting complete agreement – at least, not without her opponent also agreeing to close the place down. It rather pulled the rug out from under her.

“No.” The king nodded, as if this made complete sense – that inhuman quality again. “Was that all? I need to get back to organising the entertainment. If you could return Sir Mordred’s card on the way out…”

“I…” The saint took a breath and rallied herself. No! She would not be dismissed! “V-very well then! If you won’t listen to reason through diplomacy, you leave me little choice but to use force!” Saint or no, she was a servant, and servants tended to default to only one way of solving problems. She clapped a palm into her fist, her suppressed delinquent nature rising to the fore. “I’ll have you know I’m pretty good at convincin’ people if I need ta’!”

Artoria blinked at her slowly, before gently rubbing her chin, looking thoughtful. “Yes… You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. So.” Martha growled, revving herself up. “Are you gunna do this the easy way? Or do you want it hard? You ain’t the first dragon I’ve had ta’ beat up to get ‘em t’see sense.”

“I’m a rabbit,” the bunny girl corrected her with absent indifference, rising to her feet and circling her desk. “And violence is prohibited here. So that will not be necessary. But since you are so insistent, I believe I have another way of settling our differences.”

“Oh?” Some of the purple haired woman’s saintly aura returned. “Might you be inclined to discuss this properly after all?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the king nodded, and then hooked her thumbs over her top and pulled it down, allowing her grand chest to bounce free. “I’m sure you’ll see things my way soon.”

“Wha-what? What are y-Mmph!” Martha’s instincts flared, and she tried to jump away, but her reflexes were nothing compared to those of the bunny king. In a flash, the woman in white had closed in and shoved the saint’s face between her breasts.

“Shhhhh…” Artoria hushed her, wrapping one arm around the saint’s back while the other began to gently stroke her hair. “Relax. Rest. Enjoy my tits. Shhhhh…”

Martha struggled – oh, she struggled. But her confusion and surprise slowed her down. If she’d been a little faster on the draw perhaps she could have broken away, using her forbidden martial arts to get loose of the king’s hold. But instead she hesitated, and her eyes got a feastful view of tits… No, no, not tits, they were br- br- brrrrrtits!

Why… Why couldn’t she think of them as anything but beautiful, bountiful boobalicious tits?! Tantaslisingly tasty titillating… wh-why was she thinking about th-its? No, she didn’t want to think about tits, such amazing, astounding, almighty tits… She didn’t want to think about them bouncing in her face, didn’t want to think about how round and soft and warm and nice and tits and tits and tits and… N-no… she didn’tits… she didn’t want to… didn’t want to think… She didn’t want to think…

Tits Tits Tits Tits Tits

Artoria smiled as Martha went limp in her arms, and she felt moisture begin to drip down her chest from the saint’s hanging jaw. “There. Much better. You no longer think the casino should close.” There was a low groan from between her breasts that could have been a sign of agreement. The King certainly seemed to take it as one. “Good. In fact… Listen carefully.” And she took a deep breath.

“The casino is good, the casino is proper,

If you wanted it closed you’d be well off of your rocker!

You’re so happy it’s here, you’re so happy it stayed,

And for that your service you’d happily trade!

You’ll serve with a smile for all the day long,

It’s to the casino that now you belong.

Your smile you will shine and your assets you’ll flaunt,

To pleasure your patrons with whatever they want~

And what they need now is a great entertainer!

Putting to use your time as a trainer,

You want all the people to do as you say?

Then right up on stage you’ll make them obey!

You’ll flash and you’ll flaunt and you’ll put on a show,

You’ll make their bets high and take their wills low!

It is time to reveal your most wonderful twist,

And everyone will see you’re our stage hypnotist~”

Her rhyme done, Artoria pulled Martha back a little, looking down into her glazed eyes. She looked rather cute, but the king was quite sure she’d be no good for the casino like this, so she raised a hand up by her ear and snapped her fingers. “Wake up, Martha.”

The saint’s eyes fluttered, blinking rapidly for a moment, before they cleared – her trance evaporating. Slowly her mouth closed, and her eyes began to focus as the new truths that shaped her mind made themselves known.

The bunny king grinned. “Now what do you have to say about the casino, Saint?”

And Martha replied…

-

“Welcome to the show everybody! I hope you’re having a wonderful time here at the amazing Casino Camelot!” Martha pranced onto the stage dressed in an outfit that seemed to be mostly made of sequins and glitter, her short skirt and tight top leaving almost nothing to the imagination, with her own pair of purple bunny ears balanced on her head. “Are you all ready for a night of hypnotic entertainment?”

Around her the massive auditorium-filling crowd burst into cheers, hollers and applause filling the air. Every seat in the dining theatre was packed, many casino patrons enjoying a drink and a meal to go with tonight’s performance.

“Oh, we’ve got a captivating show for you tonight,” the star continued, smiling as she walked up and down the stage, working the audience without pause. “Don’t look away for an instant, don’t close your eyes for a moment, or you might miss Mesmeric Martha’s greatest tricks! But first…” Her eyes scanned the crowd. “I’m going to need to pick a volunteer…”

There was a hush. The audience waited with baited breath as the purple haired performer put a hand up to shield her eyes as she peered out into the audience, looking for someone who stood out. Some unfortunate soul was going to be pulled up on stage to serve as Mesmeric Martha’s plaything, and none of them wanted it to be them. But sooner or later someone would be picked – who would be the unluck fool to attract-

“Yeah, yeah, outta my way,” a blunt blonde knight in a red bunny costume grumbled loudly, shoving her way between the tables as she crossed the room. “Who ordered the stupid baby drink? You? Yeah, you look like a weanie. Here.” There was a loud bang as she slammed the glass down on the table. “And here’s your chicken. I mighta eaten some of it on the way over from the kitchen.”

Suddenly a spotlight lit up on her, piercing the darkness of the audience pit. Surprised, she blinked upwards – only to see Martha smiling down at her from the stage.

“Well!” The hypnotist giggled into her mic, “I guess sometimes the volunteer picks themselves, huh guys?”

The audience laughed – while Mordred just looked confused. “Hey, the hell are you doin’ up on stage? Weren’t you trying to close this place down?”

Martha gasped. “Close the casino? Why I’d never! The casino is good and proper… Unlike you, Miss knight of rebellion. Get up here!”

The blonde looked confused – but then she felt the pressure of a thousand pairs of eyes upon her as the audience turned to look at the victim volunteer who’d been selected in the spotlight. Vengeance against one’s father is one matter, but few things, it turned out, were more motivational than peer pressure. “Sure, whatever…”

With a grumble, the red bunny girl made her way through the crowd – somewhat more carefully than she had before, since now everyone was staring at her – and scrambled up onto the stage with all the grace of a red elephant. To which Martha extended her arm with a broad showbiz smile. “Give her a big hand, folks!”

Mordred tried her best to ignore the loud applause that followed, a blush darkening her cheeks. Instead she just folded her arms and glowered. “Fine. I’m up here. Wha’da you want? What is all of this anyway, are you some sort of magician?” She peered at Martha suspiciously. “You’re not doing some Merlin thing, are you?”

“A magician?” The performer shared a giggle with her audience. “No no, the Mesmeric Martha’s far more than just a simple stage magician! But I admit, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve…” She waved her hands in a showy fashion, and then produced a small square of plastic. “Iiiis this your card?”

The bunny girl/knight frowned. “Yes that’s my stupid card, I gave that to you so you’d go yell at my father, which I guess you screwed up. Give-“ Her arm shot out to snatch the card away, but Martha’s hand darted aside at the last moment, leaving her grasping only air. “-it ba- Hey!”

“Oh so it is your card?” Martha asked innocently, the audience giggling again. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes I’m-! Give it here, hold still!” But no matter how Mordred tried, she couldn’t quite grasp her elusive security pass. The performer’s hand just seemed to dance around her grip, swaying from left to right with strangely graceful motions. The knight’s scowl grew, her lips parting in a snarl and her eyes narrowing.

“Oops. What’s the matter, Mordred? Getting angry? You know you really should relax – all that scowling is going to give you wrinkles! Relax! Relax…”

“I’ll relax when you gimme my stupid card back you- you…” The knight blinked, suddenly finding herself swaying in place. She snarled and shook her head – only to flinch back a step when she suddenly found Martha pushed up right in her face. “Gyah!”

“If you want your card back you just have to take it, silly~” The purple haired performer laughed, twirling around the off-balance knight and holding the card up in front of her. She rested her other hand on the blonde’s shoulder, subtly keeping her in place as she began to move the card left and right between her fingers. “It’s not hard. Just focus on the card. Make it the centre of your whole world. Let everything else fade away. Then you can relax~”

“I…” Again, Mordred reached out for the card, but her movements were sluggish and half hearted. Even as she reached, her hand went limp, before her entire arm just fell back to her side, hanging uselessly. “What… What’s going on?” She asked, her head drifting, her eyes flickering open and shut as her breathing slowed.

Martha just giggled and whispered in her ear. “I’m hypnotising you, Sweetie.”

“Oh. Hah.” The knight lips quirked into a goofy little grin. “That’s dumb. Hypnosis won’t… won’t work on… m-muh… mmm….”

The hypnotist’s smile was wide, every word carried around the silent theatre by her microphone. “And that’s why you can just watch the shiny card drift from side to side. No need to worry, you don’t need to care what I’m up to. You can relax. Let your eyes start to close, let your mind rest. It’s all fine, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah…” Mordred gave a small, weak nod, almost entirely propped up by Martha now, who kept the card waving.

“Mmhm. That’s right. So just relax. Rest your eyes. Let them close. And I’ll just do a harmless, nice little countdown that’ll just be soooo relaxing to listen to, that when I get to zero, you’re going to fall into a nice, deep, mindless sleep for me, like a good little knight. Okay?” She didn’t make it sound like a question, and the blonde found herself nodding without really thinking about it, her eyes half-lidded already. “Listen. Five. Getting sleepy now. Four. Mmm, that was a cute little yawn. Three. Everything’s so hazy and confusing. Two. You just want to rest. One. Let your mind go still. Zero. And sleep. Sleep…”

Mordred slumped, her eyes slamming shut, a quiet snore emerging from the red bun’s nose. Martha grinned, gave it a second to make sure the woman was under, and then spun around to face her audience. “The Mesmeric Martha, everyone!”

Thunderous applause filled the air once again – none of it disturbing the peaceful slumber of the bunny girl knight on stage, who stood there snoring her way through all of it.

“But of course, that’s not all. Let’s see – who’s the gentleman who’s food this traitorous minx had a piece of?” Martha peered out into the audience once more, her sequined dress glittering as she twirled through the stage lights. “Chicken, wasn’t it? Well then, let’s go with the classics! Mordred, Sweetie…” She giggled and leaned in, whispering right into the knight’s subconscious. “You’re in a deep, deep trance now – a deep, thoughtless trance. But that’s okay – I’m here to tell you what to think. So in a moment, you’re going to wake up, and when you do you’re going to make it up to the poor dinnerless man. How? Because when you wake, you’re going to think you’re a chicken! Ready? Annnnd awake!” She snapped her fingers

Immediately, Mordred’s eyes opened – but the rebellious spark in them was absent, along with any form of wit or sense. Instead her gaze was glazed and empty. And after a moment, she raised her arms to her sides with her elbows sticking out, and let out a loud “Bwark!”, before attempting to peck at the ground, clucking around the stage.

The audience laughed and cheered, Martha indulging in the adulation for a long moment, before snapping her fingers again. “And back into a trance!” The knight went still, her eyes closing as her mind returned to its empty slumber. “Now, what else… Oh, I know, how about a cat? Mordred, when you next wake, you’re going to think you’re an adorable little kitty kat~ Ready? Wake up!”

Again, the blonde knight’s eyes snapped open, this time followed by her dropping to all fours and hissing. She quickly began to dart around the stage, meowing at the audience until Martha produced a laser pointer and teased the feline brained woman with it, zipping her all over the place before snapping her fingers once again with a loud laugh.

“Trance time again! That’s a good girl.” She reached over and petted the sleeping knight, before facing her audience. “She’s a wonderful subject – but sadly I know my boss is going to be mad if I keep her from her work for too long! So I’m going to have to let her go.”

There was a sweeping wave of ‘Aww’s and ‘boo’s from the audience, and Martha bowed apologetically. “Sorry! I’d love to keep her around, but the rules are the rules! But still…” She glanced at her snoozing victim. “Well, I can do one last thing with her. I’m sure the boss won’t mind~”

She strutted around Mordred one last time, before leaning in from behind her, putting her chin on the woman’s shoulder to ‘whisper’ in her ear. “Alright, Mordred, that was all fun and games – but now you’ve got to go back to work. But I don’t want you running around being rude and rebellious in this lovely casino anymore. So we’re going to deal with that attitude, while giving you a nice little bonus to help you make up to everyone for all the trouble you’ve caused! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hypnotist leaned back to wink at her audience, before blatantly manipulating the knight’s head to nod up and down as she snored. That got another wave of laughs. “Now, what I want you to do is take allllll of those silly angry thoughts, all those rebellious urges, gather them allll up in your head, squash them all up tight in a nice little box… Now, you’re going to shove that box down, alllll the way down, right out of your head and into your boobs, okay? Just shove all those thoughts out of your brain and into your breasts. That’s the way…”

The crowd was silent, save for hushed gasps and awe as they watched the blonde shiver and groan, before her chest, rather loosely held by her red top, began to swell. Indeed, those up close to the stage could see clearly as her meagre tits pumped up, like a balloon being filled with air, pushing her top out just a bit – going from small bumps to small hills.

And Martha looked down at them before sighing. “Oh, that’s not quite enough. Alright, let’s add a bit more. Gather up all of your memories of the time before the casino – of your life, of how to fight, of your hatred and wars, of your mother entirely… Now, just like before, shove alllll of those memories in a small little box – that’s it, good girl – and now push those right down into your tits. That’s the way!”

There was another groan – this one from the tight plastic of Mordred’s bunny outfit as her breasts grew again, this time pushing out so much that they filled their cups and then some. A round of applause circled the theatre.

“Better,” Martha noted, giving them another look. “But you want to be your father’s son, right? So they need to be a bit bigger than that. Let’s give it another push. This time gather up everything. Your thoughts and your feelings and your intelligence, let’s just take everything that you don’t need to be a good little casino bunny, and shove it down, there you go, that’s how you do it. Just shove everything down into your tits!”

The fabric groaned again as Mordred’s bust finally swelled up to a size she could be proud of – if she was still smart enough, at least. At last her chest was a match for the treasure of the holder of Rhongomyniad! And Martha nodded, proud, as the crowd went wild.

“Perfect. There’s no doubting your relation now! Excellent work – and all it took was shaving off a few IQ points, how about that?” She gave the audience a grin and a wink. “But now it’s time for you to get back to work, so – Mordred. In a moment, I’m going to snap my fingers again, and you’re going to wake up for real. And this time, when you wake up, all you’re going to care about is serving the casino and making the boss happy. Understood?”

The blond bun gurgled. It might have been a sleepy yes.

“Good. Now…” The hypnotist raised her fingers. “Wake up, Mordred! Wake up, and be a good bun~”

Snap

Mordred blinked awake… And immediately jumped to her feet, looking around wildly, her bust jiggling with the excitement. “Oh my gosh! I’m late! I’ve got to get to work!” She spun on her heels, turning for the exit off stage. “Like, thanks for the show, Miss Martha! Sorry that hypno-thing didn’t work on me! I gotta go!”

And with that she bounded off into the darkness, oblivious to the standing ovation that the purple haired performer was getting.

Martha just smiled and waved her off, before turning to the crowd with a grin. “The Mesmeric Martha, everyone! Now… Who shall be my next volunteer…?”

-

Casino Camelot was doing well. Business was booming, the bunny girls were giggling, and QP flowed like wine… Even at the table of a rather slow-witted blonde dealer dressed in a red bunny suit.

“Oh, like, gosh!” The knight of obedience and giggling laughed as she dealt out another hand. “You guys always seem to win so much! You must be really good at all this card stuff~”

She was oblivious to the fact that she had the most obvious poker face in the entire casino – or to the fact that her table was the most popular one around, both for that fact, and because of the charming figure she cast in her entirely too small bun suit. But the management never complained – after all, Mordred was such a good girl now, and she somehow always managed to win far more than she lost when she dealt. Possibly because people tended to get so lost in her tits that they forgot what they were doing – it was hard to say.

Either way, her days of rebellion were over – as were a certain saint’s days of protest. They’d both tried to fight the house, in their own particular ways, and they’d both learned their lesson – the only lesson that really mattered. The house always wins…

… And Camelot is a very strong house indeed.