Published: Jun 12, 2024
My one hundred and twenty-seventh caption, featuring a new caption I cooked up with @CatEnBoots. Please check out their own captions!
All image credits go to @TGCapsCenter, who generated this piece for me.
All image credits go to their respective artists. I have and never will claim ownership over any image I've used or modified for a caption, and I always encourage you to check out the artist and their wider body of work when possible.
In a “mirror universe” parallel to our own, monsters, magic, and other mythical creatures are real, and have influenced the course of history since the dawn of humanity. From the Mediterranean, Asia, Europe, and the Americas, magic and creatures have become ubiquitous. Though some places, countries, and events have stayed the same, others have changed in unique, unexpected ways. Now, as countries are expanding and industrializing in the late 1800s, various souls from across the world are now traveling, looking for power, fortune, or just a new life for themselves…
The year is 1869. A Russian aristocrat, a Cossack known as Artyom Vasiliev, has used his vast amount of family wealth to travel across the world, hunting mythical creatures for further money, fame, and sport. Over the course of twelve years, the 32-year old has honed his skills, fighting and conquering many beasts and “sub-humanoids” during that time. Though he was considered famous in some circles, he was more infamously known as an opportunistic brute, often disregarding laws, both national and international, and using bribes to seek and capture his prey. His latest quarry was a species known as the Royal Lamia, a reclusive, purple-scaled species of snake “sub-humanoids” that had migrated from the Middle East to North America. They had fled that region due to ongoing wars, having taken up residence somewhere in the Navajo Nation. Though the U.S. had attempted to take over and annex Navajo land following their Civil War, ancient protective magic put in place by Native American shamans a century previously halted these attempts, as storms, natural disasters, and other mystical phenomena destroyed all attempts at advances by “the white men”. Despite the possible danger this posed, Artyom intended to enter the Navajo Nation and find one of these Royal Lamia. He would then capture it, and either sell it to another collector of “exotics”, or bring it to his private estate back home in the Russian Empire. He had heard the Royal Lamia’s “women”-half was quite beautiful by “sub-humanoid” standards, and if they were, he’d keep one for himself.
After entering the vast Navajo Nation with an old protective talisman necklace, Artyom began tracking the Royal Lamia. They were quite capable of surviving, even thriving, in desert environments, and lived far away from people. It was quite rare to run into one by accident, but they could be tracked by the lines they’d leave behind in sand and dirt, and the occasional purple scale that would come off of their bodies. After two days of searching, avoiding Navajo patrols and living off his provisions, he finally came across the tell-tale signs of a Lamia. He followed their tracks for about half a mile into a more rocky, lush area, eventually spotting the Royal Lamia in question. Taking out his spyglass, he watched her as she bathed below a beautiful waterfall. Her purple scales confirmed she was indeed part of the species he was looking for, but he was captivated by her. She had bright blond hair, purple ears and eyes, and was wearing nothing to cover her sizable, perfect breasts. Artyom had never found himself attracted to a “sub-humanoid” before, but something about her had enchanted him, like the myths and tales of old. He didn’t just want her now, he needed her.
Creeping up through the bush and rocks, Artyom began preparing his equipment. First was a large net, enchanted with illusory magic to give the target the feeling of being under enormous weight. Second was a paralytic potion, effective against most species of “sub-humanoids”. Third were the chains, restraints, and a specially-made collar. The restraints and chains were self-explanatory, but the collar was special. It was actually from Artyom’s home in Russia, heavily enchanted to force the wearer to obey any and all commands spoken by whoever holds the attached chain. Leaving the restraints behind, he started to creep up on the Lamia, still blissfully unaware of his presence. When he was finally close enough, he sprung into action. Throwing the net at the unsuspecting creature, she was shocked and screamed as the artificial weight of a boulder came down on her, keeping her upper-half and part of her lower-half immobilized. He immediately followed up his attack with the potion, throwing it and covering her with the bottle’s contents completely. She thrashed around in the water for a few moments before it took effect, going limp as he pulled her out.
The Lamia, Isanea, was completely horrified by the situation she had suddenly found herself in. She was unable to move, completely at this human’s mercy as she was dragged out onto the rocks. This human, clearly not one of the Navajo, had wasted no time putting her in shackles. She had heard stories of humans who did such things, hunting her “inhuman” kind in remote areas such as this, but she did not heed the warnings of her sisters and the friendly tribes in the area, venturing out alone to this waterfall near the edge of the Nation. She began to cry, terrified of the human.
“P-Please… let me go.” Isanea began to beg, the hunter’s restraints being secured tightly around her arms. “You should feel honored, Lamia! You are now possession of Artyom Vasiliev, world-renowned hunter, explorer, and ladies man!” He boasted, stopping for a moment to press his fist into his chest triumphantly. “You are quite the beauty for a sub-humanoid! Ha!”
Without missing a beat, Artyom wasted no time kneeling down, squeezing one of Isanea’s sizable breasts. One of the side effects of the paralytic potion was the amplification of skin sensitivity, and Isanea struggled to contain the pleasurable feeling that traveled through her body as he brazenly squeezed her flesh and pinched her nipples. Artyom noticed her struggle quite easily as she bit her lip and threw her head back, trying not to moan as he assaulted her body. Artyom, being a rich brat, took this as a sign that she “wanted him”, and moved further down towards her crotch.
“I’ve read that you Lamia have… most of same parts as real women.” He teased as Isanea’s eyes shot open in pure terror. He had begun removing his pants. “No! Spirits, please! Not that! NOOO!”
Using all of her strength, Isanea managed to throw her arm forward as Artyom leaned in towards her, managing to grab and break off his necklace. With surprise and widened eyes, he smacked Isanea away with the back of his hand, sending the piece flying into the water. Artyom jumped in, trying to find it, but it was already too late. Dark clouds formed above the two, and before either had time to react, a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky, striking both of them. The two passed out, their perspectives changing for a moment before both completely lost consciousness…
Nearly an hour later, Isanea woke back up floating in the water with her back to the bright, blue sky. The weakness she had felt before was completely gone, but something about her felt very… off. Sitting up in the water, she looked down to see a pair of human “legs” had replaced her magnificent tail, and her breasts had also disappeared, causing her to nearly panic. Before she had a chance to do so though, she heard her own voice just outside of the water, turning to see herself struggling to try and get free of the restraints. Even more confused, she looked down to see the man’s necklace was once again around “his” neck. It was a surreal sight, one that only became more surreal to the former Lamia as a Navajo Shaman walked through the waterfall towards her.
“Tsohanoai has smiled upon you, young one.” He greeted, holding a medicine stick tightly in his hands. “Though your old form is now lost to you, your new one will help your people in the future.”
Smiling warmly, the Shaman walked wordlessly back through the waterfall, disappearing from view. Taking the moment as a sign that this could be used to the advantage of “her” species, she turned back to the “hunter”, now trapped in the same restraints that he had intended to enslave her with. Noticing Isanea in his own body looming over him, Artyom tried desperately to use the lower snake half he hand never used before to run, only for Isanea to grab the chain leading to the collar, stopping Artyom in his tracks. Isanea couldn’t help but feel some glee, seeing the roles reversed.
“Well, it looks like the hunter has become the hunted.” Isanea smirked, holding the chain as a look of utter confusion and fright could be seen on Artyom’s face. “Ready for the rest of your life?”
“This isn’t happening… this isn’t happening…” He continued to repeat to himself, grabbing his own breasts as he struggled to come to terms with his new body. “Give me back my body, wench!”
“Now now, that’s no way to address your new master!” Isanea chastised, pulling harder on the chain as Artyom began tearing up much like she had previously. He had quickly realized how powerless he now was, and it dawned on him that this must have been what it felt like to be his prey too… “Now, you’re going to tell me how to get back to your home country, renowned hunter.”
Compelled by the enchanted collar, Artyom was forced to tell Isanea everything she wanted to know. How to get back home, how to have her illegally process him through the U.S. border and out of the country, and how to access his family’s vast fortune. After a few months, the two arrived back in Artyom’s home, and Isanea wasted no time doing everything to dissolve his old power and influence. She gave away much of his ill-gotten gains to Pro-Humanoid organizations around the world, letting all of his captured creatures go free before sending much of the remaining money back to her people in the Navajo Nation. Keeping just enough to live comfortably off of, she stayed in the Russian Empire with her only pet, the Royal Lamia, Artyom. Artyom was forced to live the same way his previous conquests had, being used as a display piece for other aristocrats to gawk at from behind glass. Isanea knew it was exactly what he would have done to her, and made sure it couldn’t happen again. After some years of introspection, Artyom would finally learn his lesson, but it was a lesson he had learned far too late…