General Disclaimers: While it features no "on-screen" sexual activity, this hypnofetish story does contain examples of fictional characters doing illegal, immoral and/or impossible things to other fictional characters. If you are under the age of consent in your community, are disturbed by such concepts, or want graphic sex in your online pornography, then for goshsakes stop reading now!
Permission is granted to re-post for free to any electronic medium, as long as no fee whatsoever is charged to view it, and this disclaimer and e-mail address (firstname.lastname@example.org) are not removed. It would also be nice if you told me you were posting it.
Copyright Voyer, 2019.
Specific Disclaimers: A brief "Valkyrie Squad" scene that is part of a longer sequence of renders I have been posting on DeviantART.
Dedicated to Phillip Masters.
The rough-planked wooden walls loomed up into darkness, splattered here and there with colorful blobs. The irregular space they enclosed was thick and airless, heavily tainted with smoke from the single candle that smoldered atop a floor-stand, and supplied the only real source of light. Other smells trickled in from the edges of things, a mixture of horrible and enticing, and there was silence, even more thick and choking than the air.
The female figure stood amid this, the tall athletic curves of her limbs and torso wrapped in tightly-stitched swaths of rough brown burlap, splattered here and there with colorful blobs. A hood had been pulled down impossibly tight around her head, somehow sliding around her nose, down under her mask and disordered mop of curly brown hair. A pair of large button eyes stared sightlessly, tilted to one side, white with green thread, and a slash of matching green stitches ran across the fabric which covered her lips, sealing them firmly shut. A thick strand of cord, green of course, looped around her neck, tied down with a neat tight knot.
She had been turned into a poppet.
Before this transformation, she had been a superheroine named Emerald Shrike, defender of the city of Nordic Bay.
She stood motionless, except for the forearm and green-gloved hand which held a sword, sharp and bright and shiny even here. These all rose and fell in an utterly mechanical chopping motion, cutting apart the candle fumes, swirling the dying air into patterns. Chop. Chop. Chop. Again. Again. Again.
Time barely existed here, trickling in like the smells, even thinner and more sluggish.
Finally, abruptly, the candle flared to greater life, if only to throw starker shadows against the walls, turn the colored blobs on the walls into posters depicting towering rocks, mechanical devices, cartoon figures. Turn the blobs on the poppet into colored patches of cloth.
A wide shape, a pattern, a complex set of intersecting lines and circles spread out around the poppet's boots, out to the west and east sides, north and south. The result was a Mystic Circle of Power, glowing a sullen orange against the strained floorboards,. Even more than the candle, it more emphasized the surrounding darkness than casting any light.
And there was a noise: a thumping.
A second woman came into view, pale-skinned, wearing a long gaudily-patterned orange dress and blouse, matching hair that spilled down nearly to the floor, and all topped with a large set of glasses and a distinctive wide brimmed hat, feather included at a jaunty angle. The dress theoretically allowed her to move with a flowing grace, but the effect was rather ruined by the thumping, which came from the pair of heavy boots she evidently had strapped to her feet under it all, colliding with the creaking boards.
The villainous Hoodoo-witch known as The Poppet Queen.
She paused and enjoyed the scene before her, the angles of her face sharp and gloating behind the thick lenses perched on her slash of a nose. Then she spoke.
"Good, my little poppet. Very good." She circled around to the poppet's side, carefully staying out of range of the sword as it continued to rise and fall. (clunk clunk clunk) "You obey without pause. Although..." She twiddled a finger, than made a beckoning gesture, not at the sword-wielder, but into the darkness. "Come to me."
A third figure immediately came into view. Another poppet, wrapped in a darker shade of burlap, with pink boots, tall pointed mask, gloves, trailing cape. She did not walk, but floated, floated in a smooth but still broken sort of way, her whole body tipped at an angle, her arms and legs dangling, The large gems attached to her chest, head, hands and feet all glowed a clashing orange.
She had been Shakra.
The Poppet Queen watched her come as summoned, and then lifted a narrow long-fingered hand.
The floating poppet stopped, strung up in a mass of stitches, only a few of which were visible. The Poppet Queen twirled a finger.
The poppet began to spin in place, slow but inexorable.
The poppet slid to a stop, her own pair of face-buttons facing the Queen. White discs, purple thread. Facing their owner.
The Poppet Queen extended an arm, loosely caged the Heart Gem in her fingers. The orange glow spread off the gem, around her hand, down her arm, twisting in elegant patterns of submission and obedience. The other gems sputtered and flashed, and the floating poppet spasmed. The Poppet Queen laughed, hitting all the required super-villain harmonics.
"My Jeweled Poppet here.. she and her shiny trinkets are mine, utterly. They glow and function down to their uttermost depths. Only for me." She showed her sharp teeth, and the spasms grew worse, the sparks flashed brighter. A long calculated pause, and she finally withdrew her hand. The glow from the gems swirled off her arm, settled again. The spasms reduced to twitches. Again, the Queen twirled a finger. "Spin, Poppet. Spin faster." Shakra began rotating again, faster as commanded. "And you are dismissed." The Queen shoved lightly against thin air, and Shakra's twirling figure disappeared back into the gloom.
"And so is also the case with my Science Poppet..." She flicked a gesture and a vision appeared in the smoke, another booted and gloved poppet , this one additionally equipped with a rounded helmet, a stubby antenna mounted to one side. Blue thread across her eyes and mouth, looped around her neck.
She was squatting before a collection of wooden crates piled on the floor, into which had been set flickering orange screens, the whole bringing to mind a pile of malformed jack o lanterns. Also, an enormous ancient mechanical keyboard, bristling with rows of curved metal, something that would be more at home as part of a cash register in some backwoods store 100 years previously. She poked laboriously, endlessly at the latter object with two awkwardly curled fingers, bringing to mind a bird pecking at seeds. The resulting sound of the clunking keys came muffled by vast distance. Another wave from the Queen, and the sight and sound vanished.
"...But she is merely a tinkerer, however clever, and the city, the world is full of such people. All will fall before me. Including the kitty cat, of course." A petulant frown fleetingly creased the Queen's features. "Irritatingly, nobody seems to know where she is. Even the Squealer has, as they say, come up dry. But then, that is typical for cats, is it not? Selfishly wandering off for simply days at a time. Still, as I say, she will find her way here in the end, and she will join you. I imagine my Kitty Poppet will be simply covered with patches.."
"But then there's you." She smiled wider. "Stop."
The sword clicked to a stop.
"You obey, of course, you have no choice whatsoever, you hear only my voice, your lovely new eyes see only what I allow them to see, your nostrils pull in breath only because I allow them to do so.. but still.." She extended a careful finger towards the sword's blade, almost managing to make it a scientific gesture. An angry green spark jumped, and she snapped her hand back, shook the afflicted digit. "Yesss. Even now, there's still a bit of Emerald Shrikeiness buried down under all my stitches. Still hopelessly struggling, as they pull tighter and ever tighter around your mind. How delicious. How long will it take..." She slowly, idly scraped the finger's nail down the other woman's burlap-coated flank. "Before you finally break? Hours? Days? Years? We shall see. Oh yes we shall. And you know what I believe, my Warrior Poppet? I believe when that moment finally comes.. you will break completely. I could then untie that string around your neck, and remove your hood, and you would still serve me. You would kneel before your Queen and obey. Forever."
She laughed again, the noise crawling away to die unpleasantly into the shadows.
"Not that I ever will do so, of course. Your string will remain firmly knotted in place, holding all those stitches in place, from now until the day you die in my service. And with your.. various functions.. mostly suspended within my stitches.. that day will be very far off indeed. In the meantime, the crimes you will commit for me, the infamies you will perform, as my army of poppets swells its ranks, as I erect my palace and begin my glorious reign over Nordic Bay. All soon. Very soon. For now.." A wave of a hand. "I have more urgent matters to attend to. Resume."
The sword began to swing again.
The Queen clunk-drifted back out of sight, and the candle guttered back almost to nothing.
Silence once again fell across the room in a smothering pile.
Time dragged to a near stop.
The Warrior Poppet continued to obey.
She continued to chop.
And with every slash, the stitches pulled tighter..
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