Name:  Seja Faldarin
Species:  Modified Elf
Apparent Age:  23
Gender:  Female
Sex:  Horsedickgirl
Lights:  Roleplay

A fun time they said.
Excitement and sex they said.

She had come along easily enough, willing and enthusiastic to see one of the 'raw' realms beyond the portal.  She had heard stories, depraved stories.. terrifying ones, but this group had hardly seemed threatening, much less dangerous.  Giggling and bouncing, a dozen tails seeming to sway where should have been one.. it was unclear where the mass of eye-catching fluff ended, and the charismatic little trio of buxom kitsune began, constantly moving as they were, wiggling, dancing, laughing as they led her along.  She was certainly thinking more of the exotic visitors to her village, than what might come on the 'morrow.  They had promised a party, a masquerade, a grand adventure...

A foot slipped on the wet, sudsy marble, its dull, polished gray taking an extra moment's spiteful attention from the mop where her foot had managed to scratch the stone.  She examined herself for damage, and finding herself yet serviceable enough, shook out the soap-lubricated joint, still dripping from the moment prior she'd turned and stepped into the wooden bucket of steaming, white-frothed washwater.  Sighing, Seja tried not to look at the expanse of floor left still before her..  Thankfully, she had time.  All the time in the world.

It had been a party.  In retrospect she had to grant that much, a true grande fête of the fantastic and the deranged.  But the collar had been set a notch or three too tightly, and it bit into her skin, the pain a reminder each time she moved, a counterpoint to center her long after the strange magicks had kicked in and the throbbing in her pussy faded from the agony of her first taking to the ache in-between partners, the need to feel each more bestial lover's heartbeat thumping inside of her before she became the vessel for another stranger's seed, and another, and another..   The collar had seemed so tight, her first night being broken to the temple, so heavy as it clung to her flesh and left her marked and damaged by the morning- had she struggled in the night to escape the chain she'd been leashed and left with?  Or was it merely the markings of too many of the faithful, being too rough and joyous with one of their new herd of acolytes.  It would have been a mercy, when she had awoken, had they not left her with a silver mirror.. yet, had they not she wouldn't have been able to read the tag so clearly, hung from her neck like cattle until, through prayer and devotion, she would earn its removal from her flesh..  "Seja."

The name sounded foreign, and she knew she didn't like it from the outset.  "My name is- Seja."  Yet it spilled from her lips so easily, so delicately, a pleased lilt to her voice she didn't remember from before as the word was compelled from her in place of the name she knew.  Her name, her given name- Seja.  ..  No.  Not that one, her real name Sej-    ..It took a moment to realize what had happened, was happening to her, the crude edit in her mind obvious enough, so cruelly rough in its implementation as to leave her aware of what had been done to her- more than aware, she was fuming, furious, incensed beyond belief, beyond words..   By the time she had calmed though, the original word was well and truly beyond her, the name she'd known all her life simply slipping away each time she reached for it in her mind.. it wasn't just a change anymore, a sly slip of thought- no matter how she tried, every effort left her only repeating one name she knew couldn't possibly be right.. and yet, it was the only name she could remember, the only name she was allowed.  "My name is Seja."  It came easier the more times she said it.

"..My name is Seja.."  she murmured the words to herself as she lifted the delicate vase, long legs of mostly mechanical design lofting her above the mantle to peer and swish, feather-duster in hand to cleanse the divine alcove's every corner of the faintest sign of time's natural passage.  The irony was not lost on the acolyte, keeping a garden clean of dust, as she turned and narrowly missed catching another fragile heirloom with one of the plates fused above her shoulders, like a pink sunburst of cruelty, or wings of awakening steel.  Or... so she liked to colorfully describe herself, now, when she caught sight of her changing visage in the well's reflection before dashing the image with a dropped bucket, in the priestess' mirror in the scant moments she was allowed simply to savor the sight of a gasping, huffing fox-girl gyrating atop her..   in her own nightmarish dreams that seemed ever to be chasing reality rather than the other way about, the changes continued, just out of sight, working their way across and inside her body where she couldn't see, couldn't reach..  She took a breath, pushed such thoughts aside, and tried not to knock anything over with her cock.

"A faithful slave will know her name, and learn the names of many."  She had intoned the words long before they had any meaning, inculcated in the faith of the chain each day after her claiming party, "My name is Seja."  It was a statement now, of identity, of pride, of foundation she understood she was participating in creating.. even as it was laid brick by brick across the ashes of the lazy, undisciplined girl the snickering priestesses had lured across the portal.. a person she would have pitied in her moments of barely-comprehending pride in a newfound surety of a divine order she accepted she understood nothing about.  But the priestesses kept her happy now, and she wanted to keep the priestesses happy in turn.  Their beautiful pale figures danced before her eyes when she closed them, their desires beckoned at her dreams while she was waking.. yet, as she laid across the altar, some part of the aspiring temple slave still felt confused, unsure why this would needs be necessary.  Where went doubt though, followed kitsune promises of ecstatic worlds of pleasure- and did not their acolyte, their ever so promising peon in training, desire finally to visit upon others what had become her new way of life?  It was not that she would have refused them, not that she could have known how gratefully she would learn to accept her new.. blessing.. but perhaps had Seja known how much more the priestesses would demand of her in the weeks and months to follow, she would have hesitated longer before embracing her own evolution.

She had tried to tuck it between her legs as she worked, tried to keep her oversized and unwieldy girth out of the way with straps and belts.. but the priestesses had only laughed the louder at watching her squirm.  They knew how sensitive she was.. they had made her this way after all.  She tried to ignore the vulpine ears tilted her direction, picking up her every gripe and complaint as they murmured amongst themselves, gossiping.  Always gossiping.  She focused on her broom.. the broom she would one day, she told herself, give them all a savage swatting with.  But.. until then.  She tried to step carefully, not for fear of the temple floor's fragility, the thick stone would be there long after the Goddess finally let her go..  but aware to the tips of her pointed ears that her every clacking metal step resounded throughout the stone halls, echoing, reverberating in constant emphasis of her status beneath the whispering women of the temple.  Setting aside the broom, she found the pile of rags she had stashed behind the curling spire stairs... there was always more bitch-work to be done.  What they called it and what they called her, when her back was turned, when she was stooped over, wiping up a purposefully spilt drink, unawares all the while she could hear them just as well.

"My name is Seja."