Reborn as the First Boss, Chapter 11 (Patreon)

Chapter 11 – Submission

With the Hero dead, and my possible demise pushed back, along with me no longer being the First Boss, I was happy to turn my attention to other things. First—well, not first. First was taking a bath and turning back into my human guise. No way was I going to walk around covered in blood, provoking all kinds of unfortunate questions. After that, though, I returned to my manor, and set to work on all the ‘busywork’ that being a Baroness entailed, so that no one would get suspicious of me, and turned in for a night’s sleep. It was only the next morning that I was able to return to my study, to read up on the ritual that Mhyrsha had planned before I became her. False immortality sounded awesome, but I definitely wanted to know more about how this ritual worked and what would happen before I went through with it.

The ritual was called the Profane Master’s Unholy Transfiguration of Fate. So, just the kind of thing that you might expect a demoness in a game to be attempting. Thirteen virgins were needed for the sacrament. Twelve would be placed in a circle around the altar, and have their throats cut. As their blood pooled on the ground, the worker of the ritual had to ‘pluck the flower of virtue from the thirteenth sacrifice’. Basically, make a woman out of them.

When that happened, all twelve of the sacrificed souls would pass through the ritual worker, on their way to whatever afterlife awaited them. Elven souls given to the God of Death, as tribute so that he might overlook this deed. One soul to be reborn, as a child to grow within the womb of the thirteenth sacrifice, a tribute to the God of Life, so they might be appeased as well.

If the ritual was completed properly, then I would gain the [Profane Rebirth] skill. If I was slain, I would rise again at nightfall the next day. But would I just come to life in place, or would I ‘respawn’ somewhere else? The ritual didn’t say. It also didn’t say if there were any limits on the spell, or if there was a ‘recharge’ or ‘cooldown’ between resurrections. Like, if I got killed, revived, and then killed again, would I be OK? Or would I have to wait until next week or next month to revive? Or, more worrisomely, would it just not work if it was on cooldown?

None of these answers were in the grimoire containing the ritual. Not that I expected them to be. Creepy dark wizards who made the ritual probably never even considered those things. Or, they didn’t want to advertise their weakness. Either way, that was probably the kind of quest where the Hero goes and searches for the answer on the course of their journey, so they can actually kill the last boss, who probably has something similar, if not the same ritual, or some such crap. That’s how these games went, right?

No matter. Those were concerns for future me, once future me had some means of cheating death. Fortunately, I had all thirteen virgins needed for the ritual nicely collared and being kept in the dungeon below. From what I read, I would have to choose one of the thirteen to survive, while the rest would die.

Looking back in my memories of Mhyrsha’s life, I knew that she had already prepared everything for the ritual, now that all thirteen girls were here, and the full moon was tomorrow night. Better yet, Mhyrsha had even put up wardings around the ritual space, so that the dark magic wouldn’t be sensed by any magic types in the nearby town, which settled one of my concerns about the whole thing. Or, rather, the wardings weren’t just for this ritual. She’d performed other dark rites before, it seemed, divinations which got her the information she needed to complete this ritual. Either way, I shouldn’t have to worry about the local mages freaking out because they sensed something happening.

I looked down, between my legs, with my pants around my ankles, to the naked form of my newest slave, Jewell, kneeling under my desk. Just as I had ordered her to, the girl was getting very familiar with her new place in the world, eating me out. The poor girl had finally stopped crying, and accepted her fate. Now, it was time to see if I could transform her from a resentful slave to a willing servant.

Oh, the Slave Collars were nasty things, forcing a slave to do as they were ordered by their Master or Mistress. They didn’t have a choice in the matter. However, there was doing a job, and then there was doing the job. I was all too familiar with the idea of half-assing things, doing just what you were told, to the letter, and not exactly taking pains to do things fast, or well. There was a big difference between someone trying to offer small shows of resistance, and someone who was a willing collaborator.

Even Mhyrsha knew that, before I was her. It is why the slaves and other servants around the mansion were so happy. It was why the people in her domain were generally pleased with Baroness Pureheart’s rule, as she made a show of making sure that her people were taken care of. The Windwater Barony wasn’t the most prosperous in the kingdom, but the people generally had food and shelter, and (other than the recent ‘bandit’ attacks) things were fairly safe.

Hmm. I would have to do something about the bandits, later. They were a weak link in all of this. If that Hero could have stumbled upon the information that led him to me, someone else could, too. But that wasn’t a problem that needed to be dealt with immediately.

Looking back at Jewell, I stroked the young Rogue’s hair. “Well, my little Jewell, as much as I admire your improvement, I think it is time we had a little chat. Why were you with the Hero?”

Bitterness touched her voice, and there was hatred in her eyes, but the girl at least had the sense to not scream out, or launch into some foolishness about hating me or wanting me dead. There was a dull acceptance in her manner, which made sense, considering slavery was something of a common practice, and my disguise was that of a noblewoman. She, at least, realized there was no fighting directly against me.

“My father was a merchant. Your bandits came upon us as we were traveling to the next town. Killed my father, my mother, and my brother. Took my sister and collared her. I managed to escape. Promised that I would find a way to save Lina.”

I nodded slowly, as I stroked the girl’s hair. “I understand, my pet. You would risk everything to save what is left of your family. I can respect that. In fact, I would offer you a chance to do just that, but it will come at a price.”

Jewell looked up at me, her face giving away what she was thinking, such that I didn’t even need my [Minor Telepathy] to read her. Was this real, or was it some kind of trick? Why was I doing this? What would it cost her, when she was already a Slave?

“M-mistress? What do you mean?”

I smiled down at her. “It is simple, my dear. Thirteen virgins are needed for the ritual that I am planning. With you, here, there are fourteen virgins in the manor, including your sister and the others captured by the bandits lately. Twelve of those virgins will die, as part of the ritual.”

Jewell’s eyes went wide. She wasn’t an idiot. I could see that she knew exactly what kind of offer I was about to make her. And I could see, in those eyes, that she would take it, if it meant that she and her sister survived.

“What class and profession are little Lina, by the way?”

The rogue blinked, thrown off by the change in topic, but recovered quickly. “Her class is a Healer, Mistress. Her class offers no offensive abilities, and few defensive ones, but her healing is stronger for it. Her profession is Alchemist, allowing her to make potions and other such things.”

“Very good. And it so happens that I have room at my side for a healer. Just like I have room for a rogue.” The girl stiffened at my words, but nodded, so I continued. “As I said, only twelve of the girls participating in the ritual will die. The thirteenth will live. But how, oh how, am I going to pick that thirteenth?”

“What is it that you wish, Mistress?”

I smiled at her, and backed my chair away from the desk, so that she would have enough room to get out. “You are my Slave, Jewell. You have no choice but to serve me. However, you can still save your sister’s life. Swear to serve me willingly, and beg me to take your virginity, and your sister will be that thirteenth girl. When the ritual is done, convince her to serve, as you will serve, and she will be able to walk as freely as any slave can at my side, with you.”

Jewell’s breath caught in her throat. “And if I refuse? Or if she does not wish to serve?”

“If you refuse, then I will rape you, here and now, and then, during the ritual, you will be the one to slit your sister’s throat. You will watch her die, and be powerless to stop it. Forced to look into her eyes as life leaves them.”

I took a breath. “If, however, you submit, and she does not? I am not cruel without reason. She will still live, but I cannot promise her life will be an easy one, even by the standards of a slave. I have several slaves around my manor, big, energetic men that would appreciate a warm hole to use whenever they wish.”

The rogue looked as though she wanted to interrupt, and I held up a finger to her lips to stop her. “That will be her choice, though. If you submit, fully and completely, you will give her the chance to make that choice, a choice she would otherwise not be alive to make. And you will be able to tell her the fate that awaits her, if she doesn’t join you in submission. You will be able to try and save her from that fate.”

I could already see [Diplomacy] proving its worth as a look of desperate hope washed across the girl’s face. Combined with my high charisma, and all the bonuses I had, I would have been very surprised if I couldn’t persuade her. I still remember Uncle Carl teaching me about how to manage people, back in my old life. Back someone into a corner, and they’ll fight tooth and nail. Give them a lifeline, and nine times out of ten they’ll willingly take it, even knowing that there’s a price to pay.

She took a breath, steeling herself. Looking me in the eye, she said, “Mistress, I, Jewell, vow to submit myself to you, utterly and completely, in all things. I offer my virgin pussy to you as a testament of this vow.”

Jewell   (Human Female, Level 7 Rogue / Cook) offers a Vow of Ultimate Submission to   you, Mhyrsha (Greater Succubus Female, Level 4 Mind Sorceress / Spellshooter   / Courtesan) do you accept?

Yes / No

Vow   accepted. Jewell receives +10 to all attributes. All skills, attacks, and   abilities are 20% more effective while acting on orders of Mhyrsha. Jewell   automatically fails on all hostile actions against Mhyrsha. Jewell must   always obey Mhyrsha’s commands to the best of her ability, using all skills   and resources at her disposal to do so.

Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I’d been hoping to just get her as a more willing pawn, but it seemed that the Voice of the World decided to take things a few steps further. My little rogue just became a far more potent servant. I couldn’t wait to see what this did to her combat ability. But, first things first.

I used [Shapeshifting] to manipulate my flesh, like something out of one of those hentais that Dove, Horse’s sister, loved to watch, making a cock grow between my legs. I decided to model it after the Hero’s cock, since he was so well endowed. “Excellent. Now, since you have submitted yourself to me so fully, I will give you another choice. You may either lie back across my desk, and watch as I take you, or you may bend over it, and accept it from behind.”

Jewell gulped as she saw my girlcock grow in front of her. She had seen me in my succubus form. She knew I could use [Shapeshifting]. But that was different from seeing a woman suddenly sprout a dick to rival any man’s. I decided to give her a hand, and gently tilted her chin up with my fingers, so that she could look me in the eye. “Well?”

The Rogue took a breath, as she got to her feet. As she laid back across my desk, spreading her legs in invitation, she said, “Please, Mistress, be gentle with me?”