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Limewah's Hypnovember 2022

Story VII

Re-Installation of the Soul

Prompts: Drugs/Substance, Mark of Ownership, Possession

Commissioned by Ronuk and Taiko

With thanks to Hyenaface for the prompts

Nor shook his head and blinked.

Coming back into consciousness was always a strange feeling for the super-powered, blue-and-red striped mule, especially if he'd been 'out' for a while. One of the perks of his malleable, plastic mind and body was that he was not very susceptible to mind control, or physical changes. Nothing stuck for very long before he course-corrected.

He'd usually wake up in some odd location or another, without his clothes and without anything but a pleasant ache.

This time was different, though. Very different.

For one thing, his form felt as though it was in flux. His body felt diffuse and awkward, like it was shifting from one species or size to the next every few moments. Trying to course correct and return him to his default form, but something was pushing back. Something foreign digging into the back of his neck, but also something else inside his head.

He was also being stared at.

He was in some sort of gathering space. The congregation was approaching him, concern and fear in their eyes.

His head movements were tense and slow, like someone was trying to keep his head straight.

Not only that, there was a voice in his head.

To be more precise, it was a voice resonating through his head, from his own throat.

It was his voice, but it wasn't. The same tone, but a far different cadence. Slurred, but with an undercurrent of confusion and terror.

"Ssoomething...'sswrong..." the voice slurred. "I fffeeel..."

"Father! Father!!" others swarmed around Nor. All of them were furless, shaven bare, and their foreheads were tattooed with... he couldn't tell. All of them were holding him up. He couldn't make out their faces, or their species. His head was swimming and swirling, and that other panicked voice was making him feel strange and nervous and uncomfortable.

"What's going on?" one of them half-screamed. "Speak to us!"

"I f..feel..."

Nor could feel himself getting control again.

"Who's the Father...?" he asked, with a naive tone that seemed to take them all aback. "I think you might have me mistaken for someone..."

A scream in the back of his mind, like a pickaxe to the temple, made him double over.

"HELPMEHELPMEHELPME!" it yelled over and over again, its voice getting quieter, more distorted.

It was a slight relief when the needle sank into his neck. The voice settled down, and the imagined breathing slowed with it. His mouth fell open, and something dry and sweet was placed on his tongue. As it melted, he felt his form start to settle again. He no longer felt that gut-wrenching terror. The thing on the back of his neck squeezed tighter as the taste of the pill made his whole head turn sweet and colourful.

Serenity and comfort fell over him again. Things were returning back to normal, to the correct state of mind.

He heard the voice in his head again. "Back to sleep... this body is mine...

-

"This is not going to work for much longer," Father said, shivering and rubbing his neck. A blanket had been draped over him by his Flock.

"That was too close," the Fifth Child said. The hairless beagle dabbed at his face with a mercifully cold cloth. "I'm so sorry, Father."

"I need a new body. Taking a shapeshifting one was a mistake. You should have chosen someone less malleable."

"Sorry f-father, I didn't know that this one was going to resist..."

"You should have."

He held out his still-shaking right hand. The Eighth child at his side placed the handle of the blade into his palm, and he gripped it tightly

"I won't let it happen again," she said with a soft, quivering voice.

The Father gripped the blade.

"No, you won't."

The Father tried to pull the blade towards her throat, the way he had done so before his 'death' to many a child who had disappointed him. But his arm locked and seized up, rebelling against his will, as it had ever since his soul had been seated in this new body.

The Fifth Child flinched, her eyes dilated with fear, but did not move.

"Hmm." The Father tutted, letting the blade fall from his hand and clatter to the floor of the cloister. "This is a sign, I suppose. A sign that there is still work to be done, child. But... do make sure the next body is one I have complete control over. Or else."

Her relieved smile was sweet. Father's loins stirred. Other punishments would do.

-

"New job for you, Mistress!"

The black wolf with a metallic gray torso wiped her green-highlighted shock of hair out of her face, opening her eyes and sitting up in her reclining chair. She was nude - being nude was her preferred state when she was in her office. A radioactivity symbol - a circle with three cones radiating out from it in triangular points - was emblazoned on her chest, just above her ample breasts. A warning and a calling card for her abilities.

Aiko took her gleaming green foot-paws off her footrest's face and beckoned the cute little mouse over. The ebony-black wolf spread her legs wide and leaned back.

"Lemme have a look," she said, taking the tablet off him with one paw and grabbing his leash with the other to pull him in for a quick, possessive kiss.

He wasn't a great kisser, but he was improving.

Her feet went back up on the footstool (coaxing out a moan from their masked face), and she peered at it.

She tutted as she saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

"These nutbars again, ugh."

"L-look at the reward, Mistress!"

"Six figures."she whistled. "They must really want me back."

She kept the tablet in her hand, her other one gently taking the back of the mouse's head and guiding him to his knees. He scooched under her, her thighs parting and her tail brushing against his chest, before she gave his face a tight squeeze and buried his lips against her cunny.

Having someone eat her out helped her focus as she read through the rest of the brief for what was, honestly, one of her best clients lately.

The Household were very much a 'Return-with-a-V' type of group, not very keen on technology or any of the other modern trappings. They'd carried out some violent acts of vandalism, kidnapping for ransom, the odd bombing here or there if they were feeling particularly bloodthirsty.

That all came to an end with a statement they put out that grieved the loss of the Father(their leader, she presumed). Then the attacks ended, and the Household faded into obscurity the way most groups of crazies did.

But, 5 years later, they came roaring back, mostly with petty stuff. Vandalism that bore their mark, warnings that 'He Has Returned To Unite us', things of this nature.

As well as some other stuff on the sly. Aiko wasn't sure if she was the only mercenary they kept hiring to carry out little heists or smuggle contraband for them, but they seemed to use her a lot. They'd never interacted with her in person, though.

The brief was ultimately quite simple. Bring an able bodied male individual of at least 6 feet in height. Super-powers preferred, but not essential.

It seemed the cult was graduating into ritual homicide, at least, that was what she could assume.

She hummed to herself contentedly; she knew just the guy who'd suit. Death-Knight, that edgy, brooding dickhead, would work perfectly. Not to mention it would be easy to lure him out.

Aiko squeezed the mouse boy tighter against her cunt, and sighed contentedly. She would take a little more time to herself before she went out.

The mouse boy was pretty good at eating her pussy, and she wanted to savour this feeling a little longer before she headed out.

-

Ronuk snorted. Steam expelled from the little holes in the tall bull's black, horned helmet that hid every part of his face save for his glowing teal eyes. He cut a figure that some found comical for approximately 5 seconds before it turned into fear. He looked like a knight who had stepped out of time - one with super-human speed and strength, and a black, gnarled blade that sung a long, sustained high-note every second it was unsheathed.

He was a little sick of other superheroes telling him how glad they were he was on 'their side', fighting injustices.

He was also sick of his 'fans'. He was never fond of crowing about his prowess, and the compliments and adoration chafed him. He did not want to deal with them, but it was an unavoidable part of the job.

Sometimes, a different sort of fan reached out to him, to challenge him to a duel. This was one of the few things he did quite enjoy about the job. The fight was never a challenge; Ronuk could best any mortal in under six seconds. But he saw it as a good opportunity to spar, practice some restraint, and even give some pointers to his would-be challenger.

That was what brought him to the dark, desolate alleyways in the Red-Light District, away from the bustling debauchery of that little chunk of the city. It was one of his usual places to 'do battle' - a preferred spot, particularly when he wished to teach his 'challenger' some good form for duelling in enclosed spaces.

The appointed time was approaching. Ronuk polished his singing blade, humming in harmony with it, his eyes gleaming like two beacons in the darkening evening light. Whenever he heard footfalls, he glanced in its direction. Usually just some john passing along, sometimes with an escort in tow. They didn't look down the alley, or if they did, they quickly started walking faster until they were out of sight.

He didn't expect his rendezvous to come up behind him. A little wolf whistle that made him wheel around, blade at the ready.

"Not you again," he said with a sigh, looking down at Aiko. The wolf was dressed in a tight bodysuit, her gleaming radioactive markings penetrating through it and throbbing.

"Hey there, Death-Knight," Aiko said with a wide, toothy grin.

"Are you here to attempt to seduce me again?"

"Maaaaybe." Aiko said. "I might be in need of a big, strong, strapping knight. Wouldn't you like to aid a distressed damsel~?"

He could see her hand was slipping behind, towards the small of her back. She was telegraphing her first strike. It was easy to block the knife-blade before it got anywhere near him.

"That tactic only works on amateurs," Ronuk said, though he did allow a little smile.

"I know." Aiko's eyes were narrowed, her own grin never leaving her face. "But maybe one day it'll work on you~"

They traded a few blows - Aiko was very good at getting up close to Ronuk, making up for the short length of her combat knife. But Ronuk was far speedier than his impressive size belied.

However, he didn't expect her free hand to move in, too fast for him to catch it until the needle sank between the plates of his armour.

Something cold bloomed inside him, and his vision turned into a smear.

"There we go. Go to sleep. That's it..."

She said something else, but the ringing of Ronuk's helmet as it impacted with the concrete drowned it out, and then he heard nothing at all.

-

"...the s..sanctity of the fuh.. fam...il..y..."

Nor was finding it easier to blink. Control was starting to return to him once again. And with it, the panicked voice began to race through his head.

"No no no NO not now not now -"

"Cannot b..be.." Words were continuing to push from the mule's mouth, but more sluggishly now, like they were getting clogged in his throat. "Ruined by these.. Fuh... fah..."

The shaven congregation raced to him once again as he clutched the pulpit in front of him.

In his mind, Nor caught glimpses of someone. A pleading face of a middle-aged panther, greying around two yellow eyes that held a deep abiding cruelty.

"Not yet not yet GET BEHIND ME-"

"How'm I supposed to do that?" Nor asked, oblivious and confused. "Where are you, how am I supposed to..."

He could feel his lips moving. He was saying it out loud.

The panther in his mind's eye was fading, distorting, like a hologram that was running low on batteries.

He felt his mouth get pushed open again. Two dry sweet things melted on his tongue this time.

The panther took shape once more. The cruelty took precedent again.

"We'll deal... with you... soon."

Nor didn't know what that meant.

"Okay," he said.

He watched quietly and let the sweetness subsume him. Though he couldn't quite fall asleep this time...

The door at the far end of the chamber burst open. Percussive snaps and clicks filled the room as the nude cultists pointed weapons at the door. Standing there was a black wolf in a dark bodysuit, leading a large, hulking, armour clad bull by a lead. He walked sluggishly behind her, looking as though he was in a dream.

"A'ight, who here's the father?" she said, her eyes looking straight into Nor's. "Oh shit, Nor? Didn't know you had the whole cult leader thing in you."

"Aiko. My favourite associate!" Nor's lips were moving, and his voice had that cadence again. The cadence that was not his. He felt like he was being forced to watch a movie from the midpoint, with a lot of missing pieces to fit in. "You've come to us again, with an offering."

"Yep." Aiko said. "I knocked, but no one answered."

"We were in the middle of one of my sermons," the Father said with a shrug. "I see you've brought me someone sturdy... exactly what I needed. He's not a shapeshifter, is he?"

"Payment first," Then he's all yours."

"Yes, right. Children. Escort them to the laboratory."

"The lab, huh?" Aiko said. "Thought you were gonna be sacrificing him."

"He will be a different sort of sacrifice," the Father replied.

This was feeling very strange and familiar to Nor. Like something was about to happen that had already happened to him.

Something horrible.

-

Aiko stuck around, even though she'd been paid the moment the Death Knight had been shackled to a gurney. She was content to be a fly on the wall for this. A morbid car-crash curiosity was overtaking her; what was gonna happen to Nor? She knew the goody-two-shoes dipshit tended to bounce back from anything that was thrown at him, physically or mentally, but she was still interested to see where things go. She could have just peeled off and left. The money had cleared to her account. And yet... something kept her following, magnetized behind the presence of the Father.

It couldn't have been Nor. That much was clear. There was a different swagger to his walk, a different intonation to his voice. Possession, probably. She was starting to put two and two together, but she wanted to see how it all shook out... see the process with her own two eyes.

She was not surprised that this grotty compound had a lab with a surgery, though at least it was cleaner than the rest of the place.

Nor was being laid down on a table, face down, as the big bull was being stripped of all of his armour. She'd never gotten to see Ronuk's body properly undressed until now. She was delighted to confirm that, yes, he had an incredible ass under all that plate-mail.

"So, what's going on here?" Aiko asked. "A brain transplant? Heart transplant? What."

"Better than that, far more profound!" 'Nor' said from his reclining position. "A soul transplant."

Aiko scoffed. "Where's that located? The appendix?"

"Please," a hairless beagle girl said to her, rather firmly. "Do not ask more questions of the Father. Let us work."

"Mm'kay." Aiko shrugged.

She noticed, as the robes were stripped from Nor, that there was a pretty large piece of tech embedded in the back of his neck. A crude, but sturdy implant, with a small solid state drive bolted on, surrounded with a clear polymer to keep it watertight.

"We will see you soon, Father," the plucked bird over him whispered, before prising the device free.

Nor twitched only a little. There was no blood or visible wounds, the alien's body healing too fast for it to be seen.

Aiko stared at the little clawed device, tilting her head to the side. The surgeon was carrying it gingerly like a crown, or a sceptre. They went straight to the bound bull, who'd also been secured face-down, and guided those grabbing claws straight for the back of his neck.

-

Ronuk felt a stab of pain in the back of his neck, and two more stabs in his wrists. They dragged him kicking and screaming back into consciousness. Something was invading him. Yellow eyes flashing inside his mind. A sneer of white teeth in an expanse of black and silver.

Something else bloomed inside him, from his wrists, spreading up.

"Give in," the voice said. "Don't make this hard on yourself. Accept the blessing. Accept the bread. Accept the blood."

The bull was face down in coarse, hard cushions. Someone grabbed his face and pushed something sickly sweet into his mouth. He would have been able to resist a weak, slender hand like that, or spit the thing out. But he couldn't. The pain was gone, but the sensation on his neck was pushing in deeper. The invader was taking more and more definition inside him, and with it came a sense of paralysis.

"When you take my blood, and you take my bread, you let me in. You let me become flesh and blood again. Now and forever. This body belongs to me, and your mind will be quiet and docile, my Child."

Ronuk tried to bite on his tongue. Pain was the only thing he could think of that would allow him to hold onto himself, to push back the invasion. He thought of every cut and wound he ever sustained, every time he tasted the metallic fluid in his mouth. But the sweetness of the bread, and the paralytic anaesthetic of the blood was proving too powerful, too profound for him to resist. The more he fought, the more futile it became.

In his mind, he tried to picture himself facing off with the panther that was taking shape before him. His blade was drawn as he stared at the fragile, weak, old thing. Someone he could pull asunder like a piece of bread.

But he simply smiled. The panther, this fiend, just waited for him to move.

Ronuk could not.

His legs were quaking. His sword was not singing. His body would not move.

He had never felt this terror, this feeling of being outmatched before.

He felt the blue gleam of his eyes fading away, the comforting glow proving no match for the darkness, and the terrifying yellow gleam.

"Put it down, child. Your greater purpose is about to begin."

The blade tipped forward, and slipped out from his fingers, shattering like glass.

Ronuk fell to his knees. The panther approached him.

Whirring, tingling electricity enveloped his mind, as his paralysis completed. But his arms and legs were moving.

The panther placed a hand on Ronuk's head.

"Sleep, child. You can sleep forever."

The command felt right to follow.

Ronuk gave up his body, freely, eagerly, and happily.

-

This body was taller, broader, than anything the Father had ever inhabited before. Towering as he did, he never felt more powerful. Superhuman, the way he had with that unconscious alien mule, but far more in control of less malleable flesh.

Speaking of the mule...

He drew his Children's attention to the prone mule. He could potentially see him having use, if the brainwashing could stick.

"Keep him on a steady stream of my blood," he said. "We'll see if that keeps him loyal."

Nor moaned and shuddered. It was a shame he hadn't worked out as a body. His brightly striped body was pleasing in a garish sort of way. Those shape shifting powers of his would be useful for the blessed tasks that were to come.

For now, though, he had one more to bless.

"As for you..."

He turned his attention towards the mercenary.

The wolf looked up at him, looking rather disturbed, uncomfortable and fearful. Exactly the sort of expression Father adored. He already began to imagine what she would look like as a proper Child. Shorn of that fur, shorn of her own individuality, and having it all be replaced with devotion to him.

He would not wait to see that.

"Before you leave," he said. "Would you like to stay? It's nearly time for another ritual of ours." he winked.

"I... don't think I will, but thanks. I think I'll-"

The speed at which he was able to put a hand around her throat was narcotic. He knew that if he wanted to, he could end her life with a squeeze.

This bull... the power he held.... He could see many uses for this. His ambitions for his family... it could grow far bigger than it ever could in his previous life, in his frail old mortal body.

Immortality was his, truly his, at last.

But there was no reason to kill her, of course. She was beautiful, and he coveted her.

As Aiko was fed the Bread, her pupils dilated, and her struggles ceased. He stroked her face, guiding his large thumb past her lips.

"You've brought me a truly special vessel. I must give you proper thanks. Allowing you to join the family feels right, does it not, my dear Twentieth Child...?"

As she moaned and suckled, Aiko closed her eyes. She did not flinch as the shears began to buzz. First her face, then the rest of her. He held her in place as her new siblings slid the clippers against her. Her hair and fur fell away in clumps, revealing the pale grey skin beneath.

As soon as her face was free enough, Father took his turn. His free hand was dipped into the cool wet paint, and he smeared it against her face, anointing her with a stain that would not be removed any time soon.

"You are mine, now," the Father said. "Your worldly ties and cares fall away with your old self."

"I..." Aiko groaned, her head dipping forward, her eyelids fluttering. "my... s..."

"Your servants?" The Father smiled. "Don't you worry. They'll be anointed, or they won't. Either way. They are not your concern."

In the back of his mind, Father could feel a slight stir of anger from the old owner of his new body. He would learn to be quiet soon enough.

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