My Lord. You have asked me to entertain you. Since I know well your great interest in the subtleties of wizards I shall, with your gracious permission, tell you of some trickery played by my former master, the great Telatos. And I shall tell you of one trick that caused him much merriment, the more so as it served to impart to myself a much-deserved lesson in humility.
Before I came to your court, I attended upon Telatos as one of his familiars. In common parlance: a Sprite. No doubt you have heard the stories told about us. How we fly through the moonless nights before coupling with demons. How we seduce the young and old alike. In short, how every slightest ill that befalls man or woman may be laid at our door.
The truth is less malicious, but no less strange. For we are born human. Yet to serve those who study the hidden paths, we must gain powers and understanding that sets us apart. We need vision to see dangers hidden from ordinary mortals - and wings to fly from them.
As for the seamier side of our reputation: we have our desires, no less than any mortal. But few are the wizards who dare to employ the power of sexual energy. It is unpredictable, unreliable and like as not to rebound upon the user.
How I became a Sprite is of no consequence. We who are neither born to noble rank, nor endowed with arcane powers must do what we can with our natural gifts before age withers them. Like many a young girl before me, I had heard that those who survived a wizard's service might retire with great gifts of wealth and beauty.
So at 18 I was 'prenticed to Telatos. I became Jenna, novice Sprite: my old life I put aside forever, along with my former name.
At first I found it hard to adapt. There was much that was strange and new to a simple village-girl. But our work is at once perilous and tedious.
You might marvel to see us trap the essence of a moonbeam in a cobweb net. Yet, I can assure you that every task, no matter how wondrous it first seems, in time becomes mere routine. So I settled down. I worked closely with Giunetta who had been a Sprite for two full years, though friendship came less easily. And I became accustomed to some of the more bizarre sights that grace a wizard's palace.
For while few may use the sexual energies directly, they are not without an interest in the subject. At first I blushed to look upon the scenes of intricate debauchery that adorned Telatos' walls. I turned aside rather than gaze upon a particularly well-endowed statue. I could not imagine what sculptor dared to depict men and women in such positions, such combinations.
And perhaps these were not all carved by human hands. Rumour has it that Telatos is most jealous of his former lovers and takes steps to preserve them as only a wizard can.
It would not surprise. His skill is in that area known as Morphics: the changing of outer shape and form. I have seen many changes wrought by his magic: object to object; animal to animal; and indeed, human to either.
'Why', I asked him one day, 'do you concern yourself only with the outer? Would it not be more interesting to change the inner. The way people feel?'
He shook his head. 'There is no difference in the magic. It is just that there is no fun in it. I could as easily change you now. With a word you would be besotted with me: eager only to serve and do my bidding.'
'Perhaps I shall one day. Though I warn you: it would be for your punishment and not my amusement'.
I found this hard to understand. But Telatos would not be drawn further and for a long while I quite forgot about it.
My enlightenment came some months later. I was assisting at a most complicated ritual. In the centre of a pentagram drawn on the floor of the library something dark and scaly was materialising into a foul evil-smelling grey cloud.
Telatos stood at one end of the room: I at the other. As the ritual grew more intense he shouted at me to bring him a flask of purified water.
And I hesitated. To go to him meant getting closer to the monstrosity. I knew there was no real danger. My body thought otherwise. I froze. Telatos had no choice but to abandon his spell. Two days of hard preparation were wasted in a second.
He said nothing. But next day he summoned me to his study. Without a word he handed me a glass containing a clear blue potion. There was no point in arguing. Fearfully I raised it to my lips, wondering what kind of monstrosity he would turn me into.
I swallowed it down quickly and just had time to put the glass down before I felt my mind clouding over. I could no longer concentrate. Just one thought filled my brain: an overpowering urge to fall down at my master's feet.
Suddenly I loved Telatos, adored him, worshipped him. Nothing was now important except to please him in whatever fashion he might require. Of course he knew this. So whilst the philtre was the means to my punishment, true suffering was still to follow.
Now alternately he would abuse and ignore me. He would call me slut and whore. He would ask me to present myself to be whipped - and I would obey instantly, unquestioningly. I wanted him to whip me. I could imagine nothing more delicious than to feel the sting of his hand striking my bare flesh.
Then, he would ignore me. He would speak only to Giunetta. Worse, he told me that to please him I must be her servant. This suited her very well. For as I have already remarked, there existed a wary rivalry between us. As the elder Sprite, she felt threatened by my presence: and though she was most attractive to men, being amply proportioned in all those parts they find most interesting, she nonetheless resented the appreciative looks that I occasionally stole away from her.
By day, Giunetta ordered me to carry out every most menial task she could think of. By night she took me to her bed and made me serve her lustier appetites. My tongue grew most familiar with every inch of her body. For she would not rest until she had enjoyed two, three or even four orgasms, delivered courtesy of my nimble tongue upon her clit. But before I might even touch her clit, I must first cat-like lick every inch of her body, paying especial attention to her ears, her lips, her breasts.
And though I grew hot and excited too, she permitted me no satisfaction. Rather, when she was satisfied she bade me go forth from her bed and impale myself on the member of a particularly aroused statue that stood in silent vigil by her window. Eight inches of cold firm marble slid so easily inside me. How I longed to ride it to my own pleasure, all the time imagining myself pierced by Telatos' firm manhood. But even that was denied.
Giunetta ordered me to stay still. And so I must.
You would think I had learnt my lesson. Indeed, when Telatos saw fit to remove the enchantment I truly thought I had. But not as fully as I ought.
Some weeks later Giunetta dropped a flask, which shattered to a thousand pieces. There was no need to inform Telatos but I, oh-so-clever and filled still with thoughts of revenge made sure he found out. As he listened I grew bolder and suggested that Giunetta too deserved punishment. To my surprise, he assented. He even asked if I would like to help.
Innocent that I was, I agreed at once.
For a week thereafter, nothing happened. Then, one evening, he called us both to the Ball Room. It was the night before Midsummer and - you may recall, my Lord - that year Telatos held one of his famous celebrations for all the great and noble in the land.
It was to be a tremendous occasion: a great costume party dedicated to the theme of pain and pleasure. By way of a joke the room was populated here and there with mannequins decked out in appropriate garb. In the half light one might easily fancy the party already begun.
At first, it seemed our master wished merely to show off. He was in fine form and called for wine, which a servant quickly brought. But as Giunetta's attention was elsewhere, he slyly passed me a small flask. Then, asking loudly if I would like to pour, he winked and looked away.
How happily I fetched the glasses, making sure that Giunetta's was laced with potion. I handed them out, sipping cautiously at my own as Telatos continued to make small talk. Nothing happened.
Giunetta still stood there listening attentively. I was beginning to feel disappointed, when suddenly Telatos stopped talking, stepped forward, and took the glass from her hand. To my surprise she stood unmoved, hand and arm outstretched as though still holding on to her glass.
Then I realised. She was frozen, motionless as the mannequins that encircled us.
Far a moment I was afraid. 'Is she dead?' I asked quietly. Re-assured that she was not, I grew bolder.
I laughed and presumed to suggest that if she was to make a spectacle of herself at the Ball, perhaps I might be allowed to help. To my surprise, Telatos agreed.
I needed little encouragement. Moments later, I had stripped her of her clothes and was gazing in no small amazement at the transformation wrought upon her body beneath. For she had no hair, no pubes, no pussy. Between her legs was smooth and rounded and, I felt, so much neater than last time she had made me pay attention to it.
Even the hair on her head, I now saw, was but a wig, mimicking the long blonde tresses that she had previously been so proud of.
What followed was even better. For the wizard handed me a small amulet. It was, he said, a morphic resonator. Wearing this I could change the shape and appearance of any object I touched merely by concentrating.
'Can you change things back?', I asked nervously. Of course, he assured me: whenever he wished to.
So I set to work on Giunetta. Slowly at first, making her lips redder and fuller, nose sharper, eyes wider. Then, like a child with a new toy I began to experiment wildly in every direction. I turned her skin to brown, then black, then white again. I made her breasts swell up, then shrink. For a moment, I considered changing her entirely, giving her the form of a young boy.
Then, it occurred to me how superior she claimed her figure to be relative to my own. So now I worked purposively, planning a revenge that would be especially awful for her. I changed her hair colour to black and trimmed it to a neat page boy cut. I slimmed her face, reduced her breasts and hips. By the time I had finished she looked not very different from the way I would look in her condition.
'Can she feel?', I asked. On learning that she could, I ordered that a whip be brought and soundly spanked what was now a very neat little arse. Though she could not stir, I was impressed to see a series of thin red lines appearing where I struck.
Another inspiration struck me. 'Can she be made to feel?', I asked. Again, the answer was affirmative. So now I placed my hand between her legs and imagined excitement. In truth I did not need to do much imagining, since the exercise of such unaccustomed power had made me most excited already. Even more exciting was the thought that she must now stand immobile, unable to do a thing about the sensations coursing through her body.
What else could I do to humiliate her? From somewhere - perhaps Telatos suggested it - came the idea that I should kiss her. Thus I would show who was now in command.
So I did, and realised, as soon as I tasted the last sweet drops of wine between her lips that I had made a mistake. Too late. I felt light-headed. I stepped back. 'Wha...', I began.
It was a most extraordinary sensation. For I was fully aware of all that was going on around me - just totally incapable of doing a thing about it.
And that, I thought, is that. We are both to be exhibits. Indeed we were. Telatos had planned well. Servants came and stripped me. Then both of us were kitted out in the skimpiest of bra and panty sets. The material was silver in colour and matched leg-hugging boots. A mask was placed over my face. I felt myself lifted and carried toward an alcove at the entrance to the Ball Room.
Within the alcove my body and limbs were arranged so I stood to attention. The top of my arms were pressed tight against my sides, whilst the lower half was bent outward. The reason for this strange posture became clear when a silver tray was balanced on my outstretched arms, and a silver bowl, containing fruit and sweets was placed on top.
On the other side of the door, I saw Giunetta, now my twin, similarly attired and arranged. Our role, for the duration of the party, was to be no more than a pair of elegant fruit stands!
At least, I told myself, this is the worst of it and in a few days Telatos will turn us back. Once again, I was wrong.
A few days later, Telatos did return. He went first to Giunetta and touched her with his wand. She stepped forward stiffly. Then, a look of horror crossed her face as she realised she still held the shape I had inflicted upon her. Inwardly I smiled as I saw her touching a hand first to her face, then her breasts and hips. Telatos showed no sign of doing anything about it.
Now it was my turn. I waited expectantly for him to release me. Instead, he paused before me. 'I shall restore Giunetta fully when it pleases me', he said sternly. 'But you, Jenna, have still much to learn about proper way to conduct yourself in the palace of a wizard'.
With that, he strode off, beckoning Giunetta to follow.
I waited fearfully. A few minutes later, two servants arrived and lifted me up. They carried me effortlessly through the palace, up the stairs and - I guessed correctly, - into Giunetta's bed chamber.
She was clearly expecting me. In her hand was the morphic resonator. On her face, a smile more appropriate to a cat that has just found the cream. What followed was...interesting.
In no time, she had me stripped and stood naked before her. From the purposeful way she strode about the room, she had clearly thought out the details of my punishment with some care. Next to her bed was a dressing area. Full length mirrors concealed cupboards full of clothes. A little catwalk allowed Giunetta to walk between these, the better to see how well she looked.
At the end of the catwalk was a small circular platform with a metal spar sticking up from it. I did not remember seeing this before, and whilst I could not say wahy, its presence now filled me with foreboding.
How right I was. Giunetta was determined to impress upon me my mannequin status. So now I was to be mounted. She advanced upon me with a grim smile, taking care to ensure that I could see the amulet hung around her neck. She reached out: touched my crotch; and instantly I felt an overwhelming desire to be on display.
At her request, the servants picked me up once more and - Oh! the indignity! - screwed me onto the platform. I hated it. Yet, too, a part of the magic was making me feel more and more as though this was natural: the existence I was moulded for. My pussy was clamped around a rigid metal spike - and it was turning me on.
Next came her revenge for waht I had done to her body. Just as I had sensed her pride in her ample endowment, so she understood I enjoyed my lithe, boyish figure. But not for much longer. I scarcely felt a thing as she turned my hair from short and dark to long, bubbly and blonde.
On the other hand, what she did to my breasts felt obscene in every sense of the word. I felt her hand upon them: then stared in horror at the mirror as they grew before my eyes. I scarcely needed to see what she had done: I could feel it easily enough.
I felt like a ball being inflated too fast for its own good.
Then she expanded my hips and arse to match, and slimmed my waist down a touch. 44-23-36. And 44D at that! I had become a monster.
Then she turned to my looks. I quickly acquired wide cow-like eyes, a cutesy turned-up little nose; and a mouth so permanently pouting, I looked in urgent need of something to fill it.
(It was bad enough as a mannequin. Later, when the wizard did decide to restore me to mobility, I had to endure many weeks of life as a wlking, talking living sex object. I had my work cut out fending off advances from all and sundry).
But Giunetta had not quite finished. With the servants gone, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. She was clearly excited by the power she had over me. So I was not surprised when she shrugged off the loose shift she had been wearing - the only garment she had left that fitted her new body - and began to touch herself most intimately.
This, then, was to be my final humiliation, watching helplessly as my friend and rival brought herself to orgasm over my plight.
Not quite. With her left hand she touched her breasts, bringing her nipples erect, teasing and pinching them. With her right, she touched my own breasts and suddenly they too felt on fire, tingling with an excitement that did not subside - even when she took her hand away again.
Then she did the same with her lips, circling them slowly, langorously with tongue and finger, whilst tracing the same pattern on my own. She paused briefly to do something outside my field of vision. I soon guessed. The servants had set me up next to my old friend, the well-endowed statue.
Giunetta had smeared his member with some form of aphrodisiac cream and was now busy impaling her arse upon it.
I didn't need to see, for no sooner did I feel the butterfly touch of her right hand caressing my well-endowed bottom than I was filled with a need to impale myself in like fashion.
And finally, she was there in front of me again, rubbing frantically between her legs, bringing herself nearer and nearer to orgasm: bringing me to the brink of orgasm. And then she came, in an explosion of screaming, grunting frenzy: falling to the floor and writhing around dementedly in front of me.
It was a while before she recovered sufficient composure to stand up again. But when she did, it was to grin wickedly at me. 'Enjoy that, did you? Dummy.', she sneered.
'Now its time to make yourself useful'. And with that, she set to tidying the room.
My arms she lifted up and out, so that in silhouette I looked like a giant candelabra. My nipples she pierced with small hooks. Then she proceeded to use me as a hanger for some of her loose clothes: dresses on one arm; slips on the other; bras hanging from one nipple; a pair of none-too-clean panties balancing precariously on my shoulder.
When she had finished, she turned out the light, and with a cheery farewell set off to share a supper with Telatos.
There I was, a highly sexy clothes horse, condemned to languish in the dark. My only problem? Giunetta had a much more refined sense of mischief than I. So, naturally, she had withdrawn her touch a mere instant before she came.
I had no option but to be a mannequin. For the slightest thought that I was actually a real human being meant I must acknowledge the fact that my entire body was poised permanently on the brink of orgasm; that every orifice was burning with an insatiable desire to be fucked; and there was nothing I could do about it.
I knew I was going to be a very good mannequin.