(F to Seal)
“For the last time, I don’t want to go to the beach, I’ve got a manga to draw,” Jeanne D’Arc Alter stubbornly scooted her chair towards her desk, hooking her feet around its legs just in time for her twin to try to pull her chair away.
“Hnngh! But! It’s! Good for you!” Jeanne D’Arc looked down with a pout, giving up after a few tugs. She adjusted her glasses to better send a stern glare down towards her pale twin.
“Just let me draw in peace! You’re always like this when you change into a damn swimsuit!”
“So are you! You’re normally just misanthropic, not a shut-in!”
“How the hell do you know what ‘misanthropic’ means, you blonde bimbo!? You can’t even read!”
“I’ve been trying to learn!”
Their argument fell into a familiar rhythm, neither saint willing to give ground to the other. But, one fateful statement would take today’s debate to a new, unexplored ending.
“Yeah? Well then read my lips: you’re not my ‘big sister’ and I’d rather be one of your dumb trained pets than your sibling!” Jeanne Alter snapped.
Jeanne was resilient, especially for a saint. But something about that cut her deeper than she’d like to admit. At the same time, it also gave her an idea. A wonderful, terrible, delightfully horrific idea.
It wasn’t in her nature, and if she’d been in her usual saintly form as a Ruler, it would never have crossed her mind. But, as a sun-addled Archer, she was more prone to influence. And she’d been learning to read from none other than Chaldea’s resident witch, Circe.
“Well, then… What about lunch?” Jeanne asked, an innocent smile on her angelic face.
Jeanne Alter froze as a loud, embarrassing gurgle echoed in her room. “Oh. I guess I did forget… But I’m gonna head right back up here after. You’re not changing my mind, you got that?”
Jeanne’s smile only widened.
Anyone else would have seen it as a sure sign of danger… But Jeanne Alter never really paid much attention to her sister. Nor was she planning to.
xXx
“Hey, you said this was some damn restaurant! This looks just like where you’d train your dumb dolphin” Jeanne Alter stomped her foot on the ground, looking around the pool.
It was her first mistake, though she’d no way of knowing it. The waves were quite literally hypnotic, embedding a few irresistible compulsions on her fiery brain.
“No, I said it was where you’d get the best food ever. Trust me!” Jeanne smiled, skipping towards a cooler. “What do you think about sushi?”
Jeanne Alter had to think long and hard about that. As a French (evil) saint, she’d certainly not be expected to enjoy it… But on the other hand, as a manga-obsessed Japanophile, it was about as natural as her love of katanas. In the end, she nodded to herself.
“Sure, I think it’s goUGHLM!?” Her head jerked forward to snap at a bit of raw fish Jeanne had thrown her way. It was wet and slimy, and she swallowed it in a single gulp. She could feel it slip down her throat, leaving a raw aquatic aftertaste in her mouth. “The-what the hell!?”
“Well, I’ve got something similar. But you can only have it if you’re a good girl, got it?” Jeanne jingled a pail in her hands with a patient smile on her face.
“Yeah, screw this, I’m out.” Jeanne Alter turned on her heel to leave, but a wave from the pool splashed onto the smooth ground beneath her. She looked down instinctively. Her eyes widened at the sight of pretty swirling shapes in the water; then glazed slightly.
“Turn around,” commanded Jeanne.
The pale girl spun, entranced. Her hands swayed idly at her sides, and her jaw fell slack.
“Now, rub your tummy.”
Jeanne Alter did as asked—no, as ordered. Her hands lazily drifted up to her toned, slim belly, finding it a bit larger than it had been a moment ago. It wasn’t fat, but it was softer. Instead of feeling toned muscle, her digits sank slightly into what could only be described as pudge.
“Good girl!” Jeanne flicked a piece of fish towards her.
Jeanne Alter’s eyes tracked it, and her mouth widened, tongue outstretched. She caught the fush perfectly, angling her head back and gulping it down with another rub of her belly—which now felt slick to the touch.
The taste of the fish snapped her back to reality, and she looked down at the belly she’d been rubbing, only to scream. It wasn’t fat a second ago, but now it was positively round. More than that, it was a dark gray, mottled with spots.
“What the hell are you doing to me!?”
“Training my new pet, of course. Eyes up!” Jeanne barked, giggling as her twin couldn’t stop from jerking her head up. “Speak, girl!”
“I’m not-ark going to-urt ark-hey-ort ort ark!” Jeanne Alter couldn’t keep herself from barking. The sounds were embarrassingly comical with her sultry voice, and she blushed. “Stop it!”
Any further protest was cut off as another fish was snapped her way. This one was a little to her right, and she had to hop to catch it. The bite wasn’t entirely clean, and her teeth sank into the raw, slimy fish before she sucked it into her mouth. It was gross and cold against her gums, and she shuddered.
Her pale feet touched the ground—and slipped. Her belly had bulged even more, to the point where balance was little more than a fond memory. Even on dry ground, she’d have stumbled a bit to get used to it. On the wet poolside floor, she found herself easily slipping and slapping her plump gut onto the tile.
Jeanne Alter coughed when she fell, a bit of fish-flavored spit hitting the floor before her. Much to her surprise, it formed a recognizable shape: the next comic panel she’d been thinking about drawing. Then it washed away in the poolside water, and she found herself struggling to recall what it looked like.
“Haha! Good catch! Here,” Jeanne held up a ball, placing it on Jeanne Alter’s nose before she could protest. The changing woman’s body stiffened, forcing her to hold it steadily aloft.
Jeanne Alter realized what was happening, even if she didn’t know how. Somehow she was turning into a seal—and not just in body, either. Spitting had made her lose some of her thoughts, so maybe it was linked to her saliva? She hoped it was that, and that sweat didn’t count—the cold sweat that was dewing on her back would damn her for sure if that was the case.
“So, like you said, you’ll be my pet instead of my little sister. That’s so wonderful!” Jeanne clapped her hands, looking down to her Alter teasingly. “You’ll be way more charming with whiskers, though…”
Jeanne Alter wanted to snap at her, but couldn’t force herself to keep from balancing the ball in place.
“Well, I can fix that.” Jeanne knelt beside her Alter, setting the bucket of chum down and rubbing the girl’s pale cheeks.
Jeanne Alter’s nose crinkled slightly from the alien feeling of whiskers snaking from her pores, long and hairy and sensitive. She sniffled a bit—still balancing the ball—and caught a whiff of the delicious bucket of fish that was so tantalizingly close to her.
Against her will, she started to drool. She could feel her head fogging up, and frantically gulped the mouthful down, eyes rolling slightly as her intelligence rose again. Of course, the fish was still there, and she found herself drooling more, making her gulp it back. The action was lowering and lifting her IQ like a yo-yo, locking her in place while Jeanne continued to play her hands along Jeanne Alter’s body.
The woman’s warm hands were everywhere, smoothing out toned muscle into blubber, coaxing legs together into a single, thick, heavy tailfin. Jeanne took special care to rub at her charge’s pale feet, flattening them and flaring them out. Each toe got a delicate squeeze, molding it like clay into a webbed tailfin.
Tears slipped from Jeanne Alter’s eyes, trailing down her cheeks to land in her whiskers. All of this was so wrong, so unfair. There wasn’t even anyone she could call out to for help, either. All she could do was lie here and be molded like a squishy toy.
“I think that’s about enough, no way you’ll be walking out of here like this,” Jeanne cooed. She popped the ball off of Jeanne Alter’s face, tossing it into the pool with a light splash.
Jeanne Alter gasped at the sudden ability to move again, only to yelp in horror at how much drool just slipped from her mouth in the process. Painfully learned inking techniques spilled from her brain onto the ground—as did her knowledge of witchcraft. Too late, she realized that she might have been able to cast a counterspell.
“Mnnuh! My head… Stop it, you big assh… Ass… Um. Meanie! You’re making me dumb!” Jeanne Alter hated, hated, HATED the fact that she couldn’t even remember how to swear anymore. It was somehow even more embarrassing than turning into some fat blubbery show animal.
“Well, yeah. We can’t have you teaching Reece any bad things,” Jeanne giggled.
“Who gives a fuhhuh… Um… Who cares about your dolphin! I’m a woman, dahhuumm… Dang it!”
Jeanne laughed, cupping her arms around her twin, rolling her onto her back. She cupped Jeanne Alter’s head in one hand, lifting it and angling it towards her pudgy, fat belly. “Are you really sure about that? Go on, give that belly of yours a nice rub.”
No matter how hard she tried to resist, Jeanne Alter couldn’t keep her hands from patting her soft, swollen gut. From the shoulders down, she looked just like a seal. Her tail lifted and smacked at the wet ground, splashing water onto her fat flanks and belly.
But! No matter what, she couldn’t risk opening her mouth again. She wouldn’t dare. Already she couldn’t remember how to draw or fight, and those were her favorite things. What else would she forget? She stubbornly kept her mouth shut tight, huffing in concentration.
“Ooh, what’s this? Looks like you’ve found out about some of my spell, Bouncey.” Jeanne giggled, then gasped. “Really? Not even a reaction to your new name? I’d really have thought that’d get something out of you.”
Jeanne Alter glared at her, but didn’t fall for the obvious trap. There was no way that this bimbo saint was going to—
An enormous chunk of fish wetly thumped against Jeanne Alter’s belly, and she looked down at it in horror. Her hands were still rubbing, and soon they pressed against the delicious treat, squishing it against her stomach. She knew that she shouldn’t want it, and yet… And yet!
Her mouth dropped open of its own accord, and she scooped her hands around the treat, mashing it against her face. It was too big to eat in a single bite, and drool stained with memories trickled down Jeanne Altey’s cheeks.
For what it was worth, she tried to beg as she ate. “Mghluhm, thtop, mmnum, I-hluck-me… Mmnnhh…”
“Finish your meal first, then we’ll talk, sweetheart.” Jeanne chuckled.
Jeaace Ally didn’t want that. She didn’t want to wait, she knew that something important was being forever lost. But she couldn’t stop herself from listening to Jeanne. She gulped down the last of the fish, panting, a few drips of saliva running down her cheeks.
“Muh… Jouncelly nuh dumm…” She moaned in distress at how moronic she sounded.
“Not dumb? Maybe. But you sure are hungry. Don’t you just want to lick your fingers clean, Bouncey?” Jeanne stroked her twin’s hair.
She was mostly a seal. She couldn’t resist her new appetite. Her hands pressed against her lips, and she slobbered her tongue against them, sucking as much fishy flavor from her fingers as she could, leaving her digits wet with memories of her old name.
The tongue bath did much more than erase Bouncey’s name. Each play of her soft, wet tongue against her hands stretched the webbing between her fingers, pulling it until her digits looked like oversized flippers.
Then her arms started to pull into her shoulders, forcing her hands away from her face despite her best attempts to lick at them. She had to crane her neck down to nip away the last bits of fish from her new fray, flapping fins. When she sucked the last bit of fish into her mouth, she was completely a fat seal from the neck down.
Bouncey looked up to Jeanne balefully, opening her mouth to try to say something, anything to her. “Ort! Ork ark ort ort!”
“Oops. Forgot how to talk? That’s okay. We’ll just fix that about you. Go on, clap that fat tummy!”
Bouncey did as ordered, smacking her hands against her belly once. She could see two words in her finprints: ‘Jeanne’ and ‘Alter’. They should have sparked something in her, she knew it. But Bouncey couldn’t help but look at them as she would any stranger’s name. Then her fins clapped again, wiping the words away forever.
“See? You’re Bouncey. My big, cuddly, sweetheart of a seal.” Jeanne dropped a treat above Bouncey’s head with one hand. Her other hand pressed against the seal’s throat, rubbing it with her fingers, firmly thumbing her windpipe.
Bouncey tried to eat the fish only to gag as Jeanne’s thumb caught the food in her throat, holding it in place. “Hllk! HLUK! HGHURT!” Her voice deepened in pitch the longer the slimy morsel spent. When Jeanne finally let it go, Bouncey sputtered.
“HGHKOFF! HUOARK! ORT! ORT! OARK URT URT ORT!” She babbled, eyes going round at the sound of her own changed voice. Each bark sent a bit of spittle into the air, and soon enough she was wondering why she was so panicked about her barks… Or about anything.
“Okay, one last thing for you!” Jeanne hopped to her feet, kicking water that was tinged with Bouncey’s old thoughts into the pool. She skipped towards a podium, holding up a rare treat—an entire raw salmon.
Bouncey followed her curiously, not sure why she was so suspicious of her owner. That was right, wasn’t it? Jeanne didn’t feel like her owner, but she clearly was. Something was funny about her brain…
“Give mommy a kiss!”
But Bouncey knew how to do that! “OURT ORT!” She pushed up onto her forefins and the tip of her tail, then pushed back with her tail. Her fat, soft belly scooted smoothly along the tile, though she was heavy enough that it took another two scoots to reach her owner.
The more she licked the pretty girl’s cheeks, the better she felt! It was amazing. Bouncey loved her owner, she was so smart!
Jeanne laughed at the sight of her whiskered Alter’s face happily licking her, and at the vacant bliss in the girl’s eyes. “Only one last thing to change,” she cooed, holding up a treat just a few inches above Bouncey’s head.
The seal opened her mouth wide, letting out a dumb “ommm” hungrily. Her face stretched like putty outward into a pinniped’s snout, and her white hair melted away into warm water that flowed down her mottled back. She didn’t care. It felt good to be like this, warm to be like this.
Finally, her face was long enough to reach, and her snout popped shut around the fish. She chomped on it happily, eyes rolling in stupid contentment at the feeling of her owner’s warm hands stroking her cheeks, rubbing her head. She loved, loved, LOVED her Jeanne!
Jeanne D’Arc giggled to herself, hopping down on the podium and resting her new pet’s head against her thighs. “That was so much easier than I thought!” She beamed, tickling the seal under her chin. “And Chaldea’s going to be SO much happier with a big, blubbery Bouncey around.”
Another wonderful, terrible, delightfully horrific idea slipped its way into her head. “In fact… There’s a few other problem Servants around…” She mused aloud.
The sound of her laughter joined the quiet splashing of the pool, and soon her new dimwitted pet added some barks too. Little did the seal know, this room would get far more crowded soon enough.