Night to Remember - Sexdoll TF Story (Patreon)

Deep in the misty marshlands of Gelesh, under a great, old willow tree, lived the powerful but lonely witch, Astria Valentis. An old name from an old house, she prided herself on her immense natural ability and highborn breeding. She built her humble home within the roots of the tree using magic, weaving them into a cozy little hut free from the damp swampiness just outside her door. The solitude was necessary for the spells she was crafting, but the witch silently detested spending the majority of her best years alone. Many of the witches in her coven shied away from civilization to protect themselves, but Astria had spent too long away from her sisters- too long away from her humanity.

For weeks, Astria had been trying to solidify the tether holding open various gateways through worlds to create a reliable portal network that attuned individuals would be able to freely use. It was difficult work. Thousands of variables and particulars to account for- it was all very technical, but she was certain that it was only a matter of time before she cracked it. Finding a stopping point one particularly chilly evening, Astria made herself some tea and relaxed close to the hearth, loosely donning a well-worn, yet cozy, cream linen robe. She slowly sipped her tea, feeling the ache of loneliness that had plagued her for months tugging at her heart. She yearned for conversation, for touch… she sat on the rug near the calm, violet flames and ran her callused fingers down her hip. It had been years since she had been in Valk’ol, mingling with the warlocks and sand priests who so loved to gaze at her ample curves. Astria remembered them- especially the raven-haired one with his strong nose and penchant for the word “indubitably”. It made her smile and roll over onto her back.

She rarely had the energy or time to be this… distracted, but the witch knew her own body well through her loneliness and such mortal frivolities would help her focus on her work in the morning, she told herself. With ink-stained fingers, she provided the careful ministrations her needy nether-lips craved. A glow of warmth reverberated through her and out into the room, causing the violet magi-flames within the hearth to flicker brighter in soft flashes. Astria felt the ache turn to a buzz of tender self love and bit her lip as she imagined her dashing and powerful suitor filling the room with his power, clashing her barriers with effortless counter-spells and ravishing her body with strength and grace. It was a familiar fantasy and Astria let it wash over her. The energy grew and the winds shifted around her humble home. The roots of the tree cast long, flickering shadows across the violet-lit swamp nearby as the flames grew brighter. Astria’s nethers were covered in marks from still wet ink and the magic-laced dust of her experiment’s powerful soul-stones. Even the dust itself from them were filled with her sexual energy, the marks of ink flickering to life as crude runes spread across her pale flesh like wriggling eels.

Astria was driven by her lust, eager to feel the sweetness of release and relief from the day’s stresses, but the climax never came, only an agonizingly infinite climb. She pushed on, eyes clenched shut as she moaned undisturbed in the hot summer night, almost begging her body to let go before a sudden rush of magic quenched the violet flames down to cinders and the wave of energy hushed the buzzing swamp to a dead silence. Astria was yanked from her fantasy to find the room shrouded in darkness save the tiny, smoldering embers and the deafening quiet around her. She turned to look at the enchanted bones hanging from her window and they sat still. She was not under attack from an intruder nor was her barrier touched by magic. She was alone, it seemed. She lifted her hand from betwixt her thighs and felt resistance. Confused, she tugged and found her hand welded tightly to her nethers. With her free hand she snapped a flame into existence to see what was happening and the woman gasped wordlessly as she saw runes of ink slithering down her legs and up her belly. She wiped away at them and met nothing but flesh. First feeling annoyance, Astria weaved, one-handed, a dispelling enchantment she believed would be enough to subdue whatever odd spell she was being attacked by and felt her magic drain from her fingertips before she could finish.

Cursing aloud, the witch rolled to her knees and stumbled towards a desk covered in scrolls and magic powders from the day’s activities and fumbled over several of the rolled parchments, finding her digits to have quickly become numb and stubby. Running out of options, Astria grabbed her well-worn tome and flipped to the sections on counter-spells. If she was able to speak the words aloud, it would give her the chance to weave something more powerful before the runes could continue to attack her body. She flipped through page after page, grunting as a strong, strange sensation grew in her belly, churning hot under her flesh, the witch grit her teeth as she came to the page she was hunting for and opened her lips to speak her incantation. Suddenly, a deep, monstrous and slimy tentacle rose up from her throat and filled her mouth before jutting out from her lips, wriggling with inky black, slippery slimy. She grunted, mouth agape as the tendril cut off her voice- whatever this creature was- it was powerful and intelligent and had cut off her access to magic with surgical precision. She pawed at the tendril with what was left of her hand, now a stumpy palm with no fingers and degenerating fast into nothing more than a wrist. Astria felt the tentacle thrust against her hand and she shivered as she felt both sides of the touch. The tendril was coming from her body itself? She would’ve been more curious if the thing had not started to pleasure itself with Astria’s mouth and throat, slowly thrusting back and forth from the depths of herself.

She tried to bite down on the tendril, but was halted by its strong girth and oily flesh. Her other hand, still stuck between her thighs, felt another tentacle working its way out of her from the other end, the witch’s legs buckling from the intense burst of pleasure. To her knees, she drooled a groan as another tendril found its way out of her backside and like the others, began to thrust and pulse through her holes and cause the young woman to hesitate, trying to find footing and a solid breath as her body was ravished from within. The runes were glowing now a pale hue of pink on her belly and Astria was stuck with her cheek to the floor as three tendrils had their way with her. She felt their cock-like thickness and intensity from both points of view simultaneously and her eyes rolled as they found a steady rhythm with each other.

Meanwhile, the soft flesh of her belly began to go numb and a strange feeling of wet emptiness formed in a pit deep inside where the red began to spread. The witch watched helplessly as her hand disappeared and then down to her forearm and finally into the shoulder; the flesh melting away painlessly. She could feel the same numb tingles in her toes and she worried there’d be nothing left of her soon if she didn’t do something!

The oily tentacles’ fluids mixed with her own and they slipped out of her body further, coiling around her thighs, belly and neck until Astria was utterly captive to it. The tendrils slid over her hot flesh and played with her breasts, teasing the nipples before the glowing runes flicker to life again and she watched as her modest bust ballooned into massive heavy globes! Her hard nipples stretched as they changed into thick, thumb-sized pleasure magnets. Eyes wide, the witch curses caught in her throat as the runes forced a similar rush of magical energy into her ass, pulsing with intense warmth as her ass grew plush new flesh and her holes swelled more plump and almost… rubbery?

A memory of her time at the Arcana Universalis, a beautiful young witch in her dorm was wielding advanced flesh-crafting magics and made herself inhumanly curvaceous. Hips like a broodmare, tits like a cow… Astria remembered briefly desiring the same knowledge, to have the boys salivating like animals for her body, but she was engrossed in research and didn't have time for… fleshly pursuits. Her brief memory flashed those symbols on the pages, mirrors to her own skin as the ink quivered upon the rubberizing gooseflesh rippling with changes.

She stumbled to the floor again after a failed attempt to reach her shelf of potions and tinctures- one of which, cloyingly out of reach, she knew would let her project her will as a ghostly force to help undo the magic. She was unable to move her hips or knees, below her ankles were gone.

Astria struggled with what tiny agency she had left as her feet and calves were swallowed up to the knees. Her lips drooled as the tentacle throat-fucked her with long, powerful thrusts and the tingles filled both sets of lips until they enlarged into a comical donut of plush flesh. The pit in her belly has grown substantially, becoming a hollow cavity that stretched to her whole form, with ribbed, lubricated insides- she was becoming some kind of sex toy for whatever was controlling the runes- no limbs and all swollen curves and endlessly fuckable holes!

Astria’s belly squirmed as the knot of tentacles grew stronger and thicker, stretching her more rubbery flesh as it changed into a deep amaranth. Coated into oily juices, her glossy wet flesh grew numb- not to sensation of touch, but only to her desires to move. The vibrant red spread, erasing the inky runes as it made more and more flesh into rubber. Reaching her neck, the witch was groaning with pleasure as it relaxed her throat, allowing the girthy tendril the freedom to fuck unabated. Their pace quickened as all of Astria’s holes were ravaged, her semi-translucent red skin showing the dark tendrils coiling and squirming within. They squeezed and massaged her hollow, balloon-like breasts and flicked her nipples like a dexterous tongue. With one final gasp of pleasure, lips sealed around the tendril jutting forth, she felt her face seal in utter joy as she finally orgasmed. Exploding with pent-up stress, her face froze in an expression of pure ecstasy as the red rubber changed her entire form.

She was not gone- far from it. Locked inside her rubbery body, Astria was unbound by mortal needs or human limitations and came on the spot again and again as the tendrils worked their little toy ragged. Her body, little more than a torso and head, was filled and fucked with wild abandon by the strange tentacles all through the night. The witch lost herself for hours, only existing as a tool of pleasure and free from her worries or her work. Minutes felt like hours- hours like days. The once proud witch gave herself over to the unbelievable pleasure of feeling both sides- being both the subconscious will of her subduer and the subdued, key and lock. She swooned wordlessly, merely trembling softly from the powerful thrusting through her entire hollow pink torso. Her mouth, frozen agape in a lewd expression, made only the wet sloppy sounds of oily tendril thrusting through rubbery skin. Only once the sun finally crested over the treetops to filter in through her windows did the tentacles dissolved into inky slime and her body slowly returned to human form- mostly.

She leaned against her bed, legs outspread as she let the cool morning air dry her sex-soaked skin. Giant balloon-like tits blocked her view of the oversized fleshy pussy, and a newly ripened derriere obscured the plump donut of flesh now burning with desire behind her. She could see her lips naturally pursed with erotic intent below her nose and felt the oily texture still sliding across her lengthened tongue. Her whole new form seemed like a joke dreamt up by some perverted flesh-crafter and after she spent several minutes shaking like a newborn fawn on unsteady legs, she found a counter-spell in her book. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she pulled the enchantment from her belly like a weed and locked it away into an awaiting scroll. Magical ink filled the page with the complex runes she had somehow woven onto herself the night before. It didn’t make sense, but at least now, the spell was contained… though, the longer she looked at the parchment, it seemed to form a familiar pattern. Her notes on building the portal network were built on similar structures and it didn’t take long for Astria to realize she had inadvertently created a portal to her own subconscious where spell-ink and sexual intent was fueled by her careless contamination of potent magical ingredients…

Astria was flushed red with embarrassment as she concluded that the night’s “activities” were entirely her own fault. With the revelation of her latent perversion and pent-up sexual frustration, Astria thought she should take a short vacation from her portal endeavors. A few hours later she was cleaned up and all her extreme curves were returned to normal, but with a new set of scrolls designed to help relieve stress now rustling in her pack. She stepped out of her lair and held her walking staff, eager to enjoy the fruits of this new angle of research with one particular warlock she hoped still resided in Valk’ol…