MISTRESS

18+ ONLY!

Author: gd

  • Red Nightmare.

    “We can taste your loathing and lust mixing together, Matryoshka… The flavor pleases us…”

    A hybrid of three entities, Matryoshka’s layers each have a separate consciousness, but share sensations and a pool of memories. The outermost layer, the demon skin, is loud and boisterous: a talkative and tactless suit of living armor. It can speak through any of its orifices, and it takes great joy in sharing her innermost thoughts with those she least wants to hear them. Its flesh is rubbery, flexible, and completely impenetrable to conventional weaponry. Its mouths can devour almost anything, but it remains a mystery where those things go once they’ve been eaten.

    The middle layer, what remains of her mortal body, still has limited autonomy. Stoic by nature, Matryoshka is a woman of few words, though her skin frequently betrays her thoughts. A massive warrior in life, her strength has increased a hundredfold in undeath, making her Grizelda’s primary choice in personal defense. Her grip can crush a helmet-clad skull like an overripe fruit, and a wound from her wicked blade, Everthirst, inflicts a bleeding curse that can only be staunched with the aid of healing magic. Though she occasionally still yearns for freedom, she has resigned herself to her fate as Grizelda’s plaything.

    Her innermost layer, her heart, is no longer completely within our plane of existence. Transmuted into a cancerous bridge between worlds, it has access to knowledge and power outside of the realm of mortal understanding. It also prefers to be left alone, refusing to participate in the petty affairs of the tangible unless they happen to affect it directly.

  • Consumed by Hatred.

    “So, you’ve come to destroy us… We can already tell you won’t be the one. You’ll be punished for rousing us.”

    Her creation began as her torture. A former witch hunter turned undead bodyguard, Matryoshka tried and failed to slay Grizelda in the days when such a thing was still conceivable. After her capture, Grizelda decided her body would be of greater use in her laboratory, rather than mounted outside on a pike as a warning.

    A second-generation experiment, Matryoshka is a fusion of Necrow’s poisoned flesh and Grizelda’s eldritch summoning. Demonic flesh usually requires regular blood sacrifice to survive, but when summoned into a regenerating host, the flesh can become self-sufficient. Locking her in a cell with the growing abomination, Grizelda planned to document the slow, painful consumption of her prisoner; instead, the flesh bound itself to her, integrating its foul organs with her own. Without the need for blood, demon flesh eventually solidifies into a static shape. In Matryoshka’s case, the visible part of it became her skin, while the rest made her innards host to the unspeakable horrors of the demon world.

    Although she hates Grizelda from the deepest reaches of her being, Matryoshka is magic-bound to eternally serve and satisfy her mistress in whatever ways she demands. Each time a new trespasser enters the halls of Mundus Mortis, Matryoshka prays they’ll finally be the one to release her. So far, they’ve only been grist for Grizelda’s grim mill.

  • What Strange Delights.

    “Such exquisite beauty, oh yes…! This symphony swirling inside of me… I can’t control myself, I must dance! Mistress, I implore you… dance with me again!”

    What’s left of Necrow? Only a shred of what could be recognized as a man. And yet, certain earthly desires persist, even in undeath. Grizelda’s ichor gives her direct control over mortal flesh while she’s tethered, but has other effects when injected into a non-host. In small doses, the subject becomes vulnerable to suggestion: a sort of chemical-induced hypnosis. As the dose increases, they begin to lose their sense of self until they can no longer perform tasks without prompting. This condition isn’t irreversible, assuming that the source of ichor exposure is removed.

    When a subject is continuously injected with ichor over an extended period of time, however, changes begin to take place. Small ones, at first: A faint green shimmer in the eyes, limpness of the skin, scattered loss of hair, feathers, and scales. As the exposure continues, these changes become more pronounced. At a certain point, the body ceases to produce blood entirely, its diseased heart pumping only the ichor poisoning it.

    Few of Grizelda’s test subjects have survived this type of exposure for more than a few months. As her essense rots them from within, their flesh usually withers until their soul is consumed. Necrow is different. For reasons yet unknown, his body eventually adapted to the presence of the ichor, allowing him limited regenerative powers and extending his lifespan. Grizelda has been using samples of his flesh in her research since his metamorphosis, and ensures that his urges are handled on a regular basis to keep him pliable. Not that he needs much encouragement, given his bottomless devotion to his creator.

  • True Believer.

    “I flew, once… I don’t miss it, though. Mistress showed me that I was more useful here, so now I walk. If you play nicely, she’ll let you walk again, as well.”

    One of Grizelda’s first test subjects, now her most loyal acolyte. Hundreds of years have passed since he was reborn as Necrow, an undead husk animated by her ichor, and while his flesh has remained mostly intact in that time, his mind has not. Once a jealous mortal rival, he has since completely surrendered his black heart and soul to Grizelda. His unwavering loyalty is often rewarded with inclusion in her most depraved schemes and desires. Though he can no longer remember his former life or even his name, Necrow isn’t concerned with such trifles; seeing her Grand Experiment through to the very end by putting himself at her disposal is the only thing that drives him.

    What is the Grand Experiment? Grizelda has never made its ultimate goal clear to anyone but herself. Her relentless investigations into the preservation and regeneration of the flesh she’s hoarded in her compound suggests that the monstrosities she’s assembled so far are just the beginning of her mad ambitions.

  • Finishing Touches.

    Grizelda knows that the march towards surgical perfection is a slow one. But as a lifelong scholar, she’s found true enlightenment in the minutiae. Every subsequent slice of the scalpel more considered, every loop of filament more thoughtfully threaded than the last. Bonding bones, linking ligaments, and mending muscles are all parts of an intricate medical dance, after all, and although she considers herself adept, she still has much to learn. As she often reminds her victims, it’s taken countless years of research and trials for her to ensure that their flesh and organs will remain viable for repeated experimentation long after the donor has been excised.

    Does it hurt? Only if she doesn’t use anesthetic. You may want to hold that mirror steady with whatever you’ve got left, if you’re planning to remain in her good graces…

  • Head Four Ways, with Grizelda.

    Grizelda’s head can exist independently when detached. As one of the undead, she doesn’t require air, blood, or food to survive, and can speak without lungs or vocal cords thanks to the dark magic that animates her. Although her mobility is limited in this form, the prehensile tentacles slithering within her skull can be used for ambulation when extended from her neck.

    The primary purpose of those tentacles, however, is to bind her to a host body so that she can assume control. The tips can expand and contract at will, allowing them to pierce soft tissue like a needle and anchor themselves with barbs. Once buried in place, she can use these tube-like extremities to inject her ichor, allowing her to manipulate the flesh and feel its nerve endings as if they were her own.

    While it’s technically possible for her to possess a living host, trial and error have led her to the conclusion that it’s generally preferable to exsanguinate them and remove the problematic head first.

  • Physician, Feel Thyself.

    Sing, O bountiful flesh! Regale me with thy quivering verses!

    None can satisfy like one’s own constant, learned hand. But surely this lusty instrument could be plucked with even greater finesse if more hands were in play?

  • Invasive Procedure.

    Every once in a while, when things get really hot and heavy in the summoning circle, Grizelda’s eyes can outpace her stomach. The good news is that there’s just an empty cavity where that stomach used to be. The bad news is that a lapse in judgement like this is almost certainly gonna pop a few stitches.

    Another learning opportunity for an immortal. At least this one should be over soon, right?

    …Er, right?

  • Erective Surgery.

    With enough suture filament and the right incantations, Grizelda can graft just about anything.

    Careful, you’re looking like a particularly attractive test subject tonight…

  • Nightmare Surgeon.

    “Ah, you’re awake…! A little early, by my calculations… but no matter. The operation is nearly finished, whether you’re sedated or not. No, no… Don’t try to speak just yet… I haven’t reattached your vocal cords. Behave yourself and we’ll revisit the subject later.

    “As you can see, I’ve relieved you of several of your more interesting components… I must say, the flesh is quite supple and well-groomed. Don’t worry, you’re not in any real danger… of dying, that is. I’ve simply rebuilt you into a more suitable configuration using my spare organs and extremities… You may have noticed that I’ve made several improvements upon your original design. Your creator was so… unambitious.

    “Now rise, thrall, and assist me with the final touches on your former meat. We have much work to do if my new form is to be properly defiled before the full moon is at its zenith.”

    ✶ ✶ ✶

    Grizelda is a lich of immense power. She’s spent several lifetimes researching arcane medical wisdom and eldritch craftsmanship, imbuing her surgical technique with dark magic. She frequently grows bored of her corporeal form, swapping appendages like most people change accessories. While some might choose to surrender their soul in the pursuit of loftier machinations, Grizelda is only interested in furthering her carnal pleasure with increasingly outlandish operations. In addition to her phylactery, she is extremely protective of her original tail, and will find a way to reattach it to whatever form she might currently possess.