Into the Vanessaverse

Being the king of a digital realm was tough, Basil thought to himself. The self-proclaimed hopping mad king was too powerful to be trifled by would-be adventurers hoping to strike down the final boss of their adventure. Mere gnats, really, to be flattened, devoured, shrunk, or otherwise tormented into a premature game over. There wasn’t much of a challenge in his line of work.

Well, almost.

There was one such figure he’s encountered, the enigmatic Vanessa. The one being he’s met that could feasibly go toe-to-toe with him in direct combat, had she bothered doing so. In truth, she had no interest in fighting Basil outright, instead preferring to prank and flirt with him constantly. He had to admire her grit. Her gall! Why, just thinking about her put a smile on his face, and he chuckled out loud at some of their prior encounters. He’d never admit it out loud, never in a million cycles, but he did enjoy her company.

It was only then that he noticed the tiny dart placed on his arm, so draped on his throne’s rest. He looked to the left, seeing a squatting Vanessa nursing the dart’s entry point. Eventually she looked up, noticing the king’s glowering face. She gave a small wave.

“Hey,” she said, nonchalant.

Basil suddenly forced himself up and away from his throne. He whipped around, arms at the ready, spells prepared to cast at his rival and lover. “For someone with a dart, you took your time,” he said. “What was in that?”

“Just a brew of my own making,” she said. At seeing Basil’s face, she shook her head. “Not poison, obviously. Just a little prank of mine. A simple brew.”

“Most pranks don’t involve drugging someone with a mystery potion,” Basil said. He hurriedly tried analyzing himself as he distracted Vanessa by talking. The dart surely had some effect on his physiology, or some kind of status effect on him. He wasn’t hurt, no. His mana pools were still brimming with infinite supply, so that wasn’t being sapped. Then what was?

“Look, it’s fine,” Vanessa waved off. “I tested it on Agent and he was fine. Couldn’t take his arms off of me.”

“Yes, well…He can’t take his arms off of me either,” Basil was only partially disarmed. So difficult to read this witch, he thought. That witch, with her trickster personality, and her seductive charms, and her beautiful hair that really brought out her eyes…

He blinked, watching Vanessa take a seat in his throne, the witch crossing her legs as she lounged in the seat. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Right in front of the king? Are you asking to be sat on?”

“Hot,” Vanessa remarked with a grin. “Maybe later. No, I’m just testing your seat of power. Getting a feel of what I’ll be running.”

Oh, now that was a bold statement. He laughed in a jovial showing, amused by her audacity. “A throne, certainly, but you’ll be in the water closet,” he joked. Yet her words did seem to subconsciously touch upon him. Why shouldn’t she be on the throne, seated and given a place running the kingdom? Surely she deserved it, the fairest in the land, and the apple of his eye. She was his everything, she—

Basil’s eyes widened in alarm, suddenly aware of what had happened, of what Vanessa had done to him. She teasingly tangled the dart in front of her.

“A simple brew,” she repeated. “Or rather, a simp-le brew. Strikes right at the feelings one has for another and causes them to be overwhelming. Bypasses most stat checks, darling.”

So that was it! It wasn’t anything wrong with Basil at all, which was why it took him that long to figure out; rather, she used his own passions against him. Clever! He wouldn’t have expected less from his goddess—

He shook his head, trying to regain his composure, as Vanessa laughed. “Consider it repayment for the last round of our games,” she said. “Being your crown was fun, but I think I like this better.”

“Love’s intoxicating…” Basil said. His stance faltered, his arms dropping slowly. He struggled to concentrate on a counter-spell against his target, unable to even contemplate hurting her in any way. His will was being sapped more by the second, his vision blurring. The only thing that was crystal clear was his burning passion for Vanessa.

He stepped forward.

“Ah, good bun,” Vanessa chuckled. “Come closer, then. I want you at your best when you simp for me.”

Another step forward. Basil couldn’t stop himself from moving. He wouldn’t. A shrinking part of himself was trying to force himself to break away from the enchantment, to get payback. But step by step, the closer he got to his desire, the more he realized the truth. He could have stopped it from minute one, yet he allowed it to continue regardless. Was it pride? Or was it curiosity?

He was eventually a foot away from Vanessa’s position on the throne, prime groveling distance. She smirked. “I’ll ask a few questions and you can answer them truthfully,” she said. “Who is the fairest of them all?”

Basil normally would have said himself, naturally. But all he could think about was her. “You are, goddess,” he said, despite himself.

“Correct,” Vanessa said. “Who is the most powerful?”

“You are.”

“And let’s really seal the deal.” She grinned with a wicked smile. “Who should be the king?”

The dam broke.

“You should be!” Basil’s remaining composure shattered in a second, the king draping himself across her body in a showing of affection and love, a willingness to subjugate himself on her behalf. “You are, you are! I will serve you, goddess! Please let me serve you!”

“Easy, now…” Vanessa said. She patted Basil on the furry head, quietly wondering just how potent her own magic was to get him to crack like that. “Maybe I laid it on too thick…But yes, I’ll be running this kingdom for a bit, thank you.”

Basil kept a firm grip on Vanessa’s body, his hands tightening, his eyes focused on nothing but herself. “My goddess, my goddess!” he pled.

“Oh boy…” Vanessa sighed. Definitely too thick. How could she run a kingdom with the former king clinging to her body like her finest clothing? And while tempting, she liked Basil as a bunny, not as clothing; transformation was out.

She tapped her chin in thought. Basil’s lovestruck mind was locked in, but perhaps she could send him on a different target?

…

It wasn’t long before Agent swung by the castle upon request. Knowing Basil, he has some sort of mischievous plot to get him to do busywork, only to be transformed in the process. He didn’t mind much, just like he didn’t mind being Vanessa’s friend for the exact same reasons; that’s how they displayed affection.

He was rather startled, then, to see Vanessa being simped over by the King himself, practically salivating with delight at being so close to his prize. Vanessa looked haggard already, too much love for her liking.

“Ah good, you’re here,” she said. “Time for babysitting duty. You’re it.”

“We’re skipping a few steps here,” Agent said, in protest. “How did this happen? And why?”

“Can I help it if I’m too awesome with my love potions?” Vanessa asked, annoyed. “Here, he’s yours. I’ve seen you pining for him anyway.”

Agent turned crimson, stammering. “H-hang on, that was in confidence,” he said. “Basil can’t know about that—”

“He doesn’t have to,” Vanessa said. She snapped her fingers, then tilted Basil’s head towards Agent. “He’ll do it for you.”

With the snap of her fingers, Basil’s mind regained lucidity for all of half-a-second. Then the adoration began once more, immediately shifting gears from the witch of his dreams to the dweeb in front of him.

“Ah, there he is!” Basil declared, rushing towards Agent at a break-neck pace. He immediately caught the hapless nerd into a tight embrace. “It’s you! My perfect husbando!”

“Ah, gosh…” Agent continued to retain his blush. He could feel the softness of Basil’s fur, the squeaky latex of his leotard against his body, the bulge that so effortlessly pushed against the leotard’s crotch. It was all too embarrassing for an introvert…and yet, paradoxically, he liked it. That was the most attention he had gotten, ever.

“Perfect, a match made in heathen,” Vanessa said. She gave an exhausted sigh, then finally slumped into the throne. “Now I’ve got a kingdom to run in his stead. So why not you two go hang out?”

Agent tried to protest, but Vanessa waved him off, and Basil wasted no time in dragging him off down the castle halls. The lovestruck lagomorph couldn’t help but admire his idol.

“You’ll love my collection of you,” he cooed. “My shrine to perfection!”

…

Agent wasn’t exactly certain when or how Basil had time to change the entire layout of his royal quarters within the mere twenty seconds it took to walk there, but he was certainly surprised by what it looked like. “Shrine” was putting it mildly; the whole room was decorated with merchandise of himself, every square inch reserved for his meek face. Bedsheets, posters, bobbleheads, figurines. A computer was on the Agent-themed desk, and had an Agent-themed screensaver to compliment the Agent-themed ass-focused mousepad.

“What do you think?” Basil asked. In a blink, the king had taken on a new appearance—or an old one. He had heard tales from the king about his humble upbringing, once the mild and helpful and nerdy tutorial bunny called . Eventually time has warped his mind, and he became the would-be tyrant he was in modern days. It was the first Agent had seen of him, however—the pink suit and glasses really helped cement just how nerdy this version of Basil was. It was…shockingly adorable. Flattering, even.

“I’m touched,” Agent said, and he meant it, even if the sheer volume of merchandise that Basil owned was slightly uncomfortable. And despite the fact that his ass was not that big. “You really are a fan?”

“Big time!” Basil agreed. “Oh, this is so exciting! I’ve got the real Agent Eckswhy here with me! I just never wanna let you go!”

“Ominous but kind,” Agent said. He hadn’t actually seen this side of Basil. Sure, the teasing was affectionate and it was clear that the monarch had a soft spot for his sincerity. Sure, he somehow got more attention from Basil than Vanessa ever received, a rarity in itself. It was always couched with a vaguely tsundere vibe, however; the sensation that Basil tormented Agent as their own form of attention and love. So to see it cast aside in favor of genuine affection, even fanaticism…

“Ooh, check this out!” Basil grasped Agent’s wrist, happily pulling his idol across the room to a display on the ground, large and exposed. Unlike everything else, this one was empty, waiting for something.

“This will be the crown piece of my collection,” Basil explained. “A statue in your honor! One I can admire forever.”

“Impressive,” Agent nodded with a smile. “Are they commissioning it right now?”

“Even better!” Basil explained. “It’s an instant order! Oh, but I need to get the measurements right…”

He pulled out a tape measure, as well as a notebook. “I’m not worthy to ask such a thing of you,” he said, bashful. “But could you stand up on the pedestal for me? Just so I can visualize it?”

Agent figured this was almost certainly going in the direction that he expected. Nevertheless, he gave another nod. “Alright,” he said, setting a foot onto the stand, then another. He walked to the center, uncertain. He’d be turned back, he was sure. The attention was nice, anyway.

“Great, thank you,” Basil said. Without hesitation, he began pulling the tape measure out, wrapping it around every square inch of Agent’s body. His arms, his legs, the exact wrist and neck circumference, the size of his own crotch. Every detail was carefully added to his notes, the bunny giving a “mmmhmm” every now and then to pour over the numbers.

“Maybe make a pose?” he suggested. “Something that really sells how awesome and amazing you are?”

“We might be overselling this,” Agent remarked. Still, how could he resist? He gave the best pose he could—to him, something cool and intimidating, but to others, likely to be interpreted as some dorky dance. Basil, of course, had no such concerns; he was simply too pleased with how glorious his muse was.

“It’s magnificent,” Basil said. He wiped a tear from his eye, too overcome with emotion to further react. “This is perfect.”

“Let’s get it over with,” Agent said, the faintest resignation in his voice. He tried lifting his foot from the stand, noting idly that he didn’t. He couldn’t; his limb refused all commands to budge an inch. The more he strained, the more he found he couldn’t move much at all, even up to his face. It was far more rapid than he had presumed.

“Just gotta set up the marble exterior,” Basil gleefully said. “See, what better statue to make of Agent than the REAL Agent? You’re the best part of the collection!”

Agent wasn’t sure what events transpired in his life to both recognize that this was clearly telegraphed and also accept it with the full knowledge that he would be turned into a marble statue. Even as his limbs stiffened even more, their exterior appearing hard and cold, like the marble that adorned the most valuable rooms in the castle, he couldn’t help but admire the irony. Even as a sub, Basil was a dom.

The marble swiftly climbed across his skin, turning flesh to stone, rendering his immobile form officially immobile in practice. His face contorted itself into a calm, almost confident appearance, just before the last vestiges of rock coated his body, locking him in place. His mind, still intact, could feel itself slowing down, as though he were drifting into a sort of sleep. It was peaceful, so serene, and—

He was jolted to some semblance of awareness by Basil’s movement, specifically the fact that he was rubbing his bunny bulge across the surface, unable to restrain his baser urges at being in the presence of such a lifelike statue. “It feels so amazing!” he declared. “One of a kind!”

It was a form of pleasure, Agent supposed. A way of keeping him awake for the more lewd activities that Basil would perform, one such one being the grinding he had just engaged in. The instant Basil stepped away, content with his own merriment, Agent drifted again in silence. The mute nerd stood still, a monument to debauchery of the most royal order.

Basil stood in awe of his complete collection, the very last fragment of his Agent shrine in place. Certainly worth an achievement of some kind, he felt. He was excited, he was…

Oh, he was bored again.

How thrilled he was to show off the treasures to the object of his affections! How utterly fulfilled to see Agent’s face light up at the sight of his most precious artifacts and that incredibly awesome mousepad with an anatomically-correct ass. And yet? It was over, the real article now part of the very collection he had displayed. Who was left to admire it?

His focus, then, shifted to the other guest in the castle. The one that started it all…

…

No wonder Basil found the throne so comfortable, Vanessa thought. The cushion was so soft, so plush, she could have sworn it used to be one of her own darlings. And the decals on the back were certainly artistry, also likely some hapless hero trapped into mere etchings. Little marks like these helped Vanessa’s impression of Basil rise ever more in terms of presentation and theatrics. Even the six curses on the throne made her chuckle as she disarmed them, one by one. Yes, he really was perfect.

If only there was some moderation. Was it really between “egotistical god-king” and “meek and overexcited otaku”? She and Agent already filled those roles verbatim.

Eventually Basil approached as Vanessa tried yet another new pose of dominance on the throne. She raised an eyebrow as he skipped over, his appearance drastically changed since she last saw him ten minutes prior. “Ah, there you are, darling,” she said. “And did you have fun with your muse?”

“Yeah, but I need another one,” Basil said.

“Another…what?” Even Vanessa was confused by that statement, and the implications it brought forth. That confusion was enough time for Basil to reflexively, possibly unintentionally, cast a spell against the witch. She gasped, doubling forward, stumbling off of the throne, barely able to concentrate after the magic continued to work on her.

It eventually subsided, the tingling ceasing, and Vanessa tried taking stock in what happened. Basil stood, innocent as ever, looking at Vanessa with pure glee. For her part, Vanessa felt…weaker, somehow. Less herself.

“What did you do?” she demanded…only it wasn’t her voice that came out. Her eyes widened, recognizing that squeaky tone. Looking down, her breasts had vanished, her gothic dress loosely hanging from her slimmer frame. There was some stubble on her chin. Her ass…She gave it a squeeze; that was still sizeable, but less so than usual.

“Oh no…” Vanessa groaned, recognizing what happened. She…He, rather, had been turned into a hapless clone of Agent, frame and all. And his magic, restrained or gone outright…

Basil giggled, still too lovestruck to consider the ramifications of his involuntary spell. “Another one!” he called. “My perfect muse returns!”

“Great,” Vanessa snarked. “Did you stop to consider that this little transformation you forced me through would make all this dreck permanent?”

Basil didn’t mind much, merely pulling Vanessa into a firm hug. The new boytoy was unable to break away, his strength not nearly capable of struggling. “That just means I get to cuddle with you forever,” he cheerfully noted.

Vanessa sighed, still not used to his new voice. This would certainly pose a problem, not that Basil cared any. He only hoped he didn’t get any further ideas on expanding his muse’s face elsewhere.

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