The Prince Transformed

Hello all, I'm back with number six! I will finish this someday, even if it kills me! Though I sincerely hope it won't come to that...

Once again, all feedback is much appreciated. Do tell me what you think of the story.

And as always, thanks to my wonderful editor moncriefelle.

*****

Perthias shook his head, groggy with sleep. It felt like the insides of his head were filled with cotton wool. He was dazed, disoriented, confused, and...and he didn't even know where he was.

He looked around. This wasn't the castle dungeons. In fact, it wasn't even the castle. He was a completely unfamiliar room, with hanging tapestries and furniture he didn't recognize. Somehow, he had been spirited out of the castle. to someplace else.

"Good morning, Your Highness."

He sprang out of bed (there was a bed? more wonders) to confront the source of the voice, and wasn't entirely surprised to see the hooded figure before him. The same one that had asked for his assistance? It could be—there was no way to tell with them. Each of them (if there was even more than one) looked the same as the other.

"Where am I?" he said. A standard query, maybe, but one that had to be asked.

"The town of Asdale. More precisely, a room in a manor there," replied the figure.

Asdale...Asdale? Where was that? He searched through his memory and all of his vaguely remembered geography lessons. It was somewhere near the borders of Erecia, he was certain. A country town, nothing special about it. Which brought him to his next question, "Why have you brought me here?"

"To free you, of course. We of the resistance always honor our bargains. You are not the planner your sister is. Left to your own devices, you would have rotted in the castle dungeons before we could have included you in our efforts."

Perthias bristled at the comment even as he recognized its veracity. Yes, Daphnia had always been the more resourceful one. Lacking other means of escape, he would probably have languished in the castle dungeons overlong and then been of no use to either himself or his mysterious co-conspirators.

So, they had freed him...after a fashion. But he was still stuck in his sex slave body, and more to the point...

The figure cut in smoothly as if he had read his mind, which it most probably had. "Do not worry, Your Highness. We have located the girl, and she is waiting for you. As I said, we always honor our bargains."

She? She was here? Perthias fought to contain his anticipation (and, if he was being completely honest, his lust) The laughing elfslut who haunted his dreams and fantasies, memories of which even the lustiest of his lovers could do nothing to erase. If she was here, then he would find her, and push her down to the ground, and... wait. The figure had mentioned a bargain, and bargains always had two parts to them.

"What would you have me do?" There was a catch, he was sure. There was always a catch.

"Patience, Your Highness. We would like you to enjoy yourself first before we talk business." The figure gestured to a nearby door. Its intent was clear—the female he sought was beyond that portal, waiting for him.

Perthias nodded and made his way into the other room. Truth to be told, he was in no fit state to talk business in the first place. The mere thought of seeing his blue-skinned beauty again made his heart race and his breeches (if he wore any...) tighten. Any conversations would have to wait until after he had ravished her good and proper.

--

The resistance was as good as its word. There was little else in the other room except a large bed (whose purpose he could guess at quite easily) and her. She was just as he remembered her. The elfin lines of her face, her voluptuous body, her shining mane...everything was just the same.

Could it be? His blue-skinned lover? The elfslut who haunted his fevered dreams of lust? She giggled and walked towards him and he gulped in anticipation. It was. It was she. No other elfslut—nay, no other maiden he had ever laid eyes on—had such winsome eyes, such lustrous azure skin, to say nothing of her ponderous breasts or silver hair. It was her and no other.

He stood there stock-still, unable to move a muscle or utter a single word. But it turned out that he didn't need to—she strolled over as casually as could be and touched her soft palm to his rock-hard chest. He gasped at her touch, stiffening immediately. It had been so long, and he had missed her so much.

The figure had, thankfully, vanished—giving them a little privacy. But politics and bargains were the furthest thing from his mind now. She smiled a brilliant smile and twined herself around him, rubbing her lush curves against his muscled frame. His erection raged mightily now, but he was lost in her sweet caresses and allowed himself to be captured by one deep kiss after another. If he was hungry, then she was playful, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth and moving herself sinuously against him, allowing his hands to roam across the expanse of her body but not much else. He was the one with the physical strength to crush a man's skull with one hand easily, but in this arena, she held all the power.

After a few minutes of touching, she'd had enough. She moved away from him and affixed him with a naughty stare that he knew all too well. In a manner of seconds, she had dropped to her knees and swallowed him deftly. He groaned in sheer rapture and reached out to grasp her head in his hands as her talented tongue went to work. Her technique was as amazing as he remembered—it only took a few seconds of her ravenous sucking and he had shot a full load down her gullet.

Light-headed in the aftermath of his orgasm, it was an easy task for her to guide him to the bed and push him down on it. A few more kisses and the motion of her giant heaving tits across his chest, and he was erect once more. Once again, she took the initiative—spreading her legs and swallowing his rock-hard member with her hungry slit. They both heaved a sigh of mutual satisfaction as their genitals met. He let her move on top of him, content to simply sit back and relax for a time.

She started off slow but soon accelerated, silver hair falling in a fountain around them. He didn't know which he enjoyed more—the burning pleasure that shot up his loins with each buck and thrust, or the hypnotic motion of her massive chest as it rose and fell. Her rocking ripped one orgasm after another from him, and the furrow between her legs grew matted with his spunk.

Three orgasms later, instead of diminishing, his hunger only grew. He had to have more of her...had to! With a single sudden savage motion, he rose up to his full height and threw her legs over his shoulders, eliciting a surprised squeal from her that somehow turned him on more than the distracting movements of her huge breasts. He plunged into her in a single strong stroke, and he was immensely pleased to hear her sigh in delight at his entry. He thrust again and again, stopping only to suck at her overdeveloped chest. Her nipples were diamond-hard, and she flung back and shrieked in surprised pleasure as he bit down on one ever so gently.

His furious fucking of her seemed to have kindled a spark in his lover as well. After he had made her cum twice, she suddenly threw her arms around him and dragged him down onto the bed with her. Smiling, he let her, and she grew ravenous with her kisses and aggressive with her touches. He sated his own appetites with the lushness of her body—her full ass, her soft, soft skin, wide hips and giant chest. They rolled around on the bed, licking, sucking, touching and thrust in a tempest of physicality.

He barely had time to breath, so ardent were her attentions. They came together again and again, but she was relentless—holding on to him for dear life, twining limb to limb and mouth to mouth in a whirlwind of motion. As they bucked and rolled on the too-small bed, the thought occurred to the prince that it was like making love twelve different ways all at once.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually even their enhanced appetites were sated. Later as they lay cooling, she turned to him and spoke. They were the first real words she had ever said to him.

"Cythea."

"What was that?" He was so surprised he almost fell off the bed. It was...

"My name." She let out the lilting laugh that he had gotten so familiar with, but somehow this time it was different. She continued before he could respond.

"You've had me so many times already, at least let me introduce myself! I'm Cythea, and I'm an elfslut." Well, the latter he could tell, but he wisely chose not to say that.

His head was brimful with questions. Where did she come from? Why was she here? Did she work for the resistance as well?

He opened his mouth to speak, but she smiled and pressed a finger to his lips in the universal gesture for silence. "All in good time, my sweet prince. All in good time. Let's leave the queries for later and go for another round? I know how much you've been dying to have me." She gestured to his tumescent organ and sure enough, it was beginning to get erect again at the sheer thought of coitus with the beauty that lay beside him.

Suiting action to word, he pressed her down on the bed and in seconds they were moaning together in pleasure, all questions forgotten. In a corner of his lust-addled brain, Perthias did consider the possibility that she had played him exactly as she had wanted to, forestalling all further queries with her beautiful body...but he wasn't complaining. And it wasn't that he could resist indulging in the elfslut that he had desired for months. So, he put mouth to mouth and penis to pussy, and they both drowned themselves in pleasure for a time.

--

When he came to a few hours later, Cythea was nowhere to be found. He wasn't entirely surprised—she appeared and disappeared seemingly on a whim, and there was no way to tell when she might next visit (or not) Only the faint trace of heat on the bedsheets from their coupling told him that she had indeed been with him and that it was no phantom that he had made love to. For the first time in months, his overflowing lust had been sated, and Perthias let himself bask in the warm afterglow for a few minutes before he rolled out of bed.

The hooded figure was waiting for him outside his room again—no surprise there.

"We trust you are well rested and recovered, Your Highness? And the girl is to your liking?"

"I am, and she is," he replied shortly. There was no point in playing coy. They had, no doubt, orchestrated this entire affair, and he was bound by his word to help them since they had delivered Cythea to him. It was time for him to fulfill his end of the bargain, whatever that might be, and he was soon to find out. The figure pulled a piece of parchment seemingly out of thin air (more magic!) and pointed to it.

It was a map. A very familiar one, in fact. It was the castle that he had once called home, and its immediate surroundings. He remembered many a long hour spent with his tutors as they pointed out feature after feature—the moat, the woods, the villages around the castle—and had asked him how best to surmount them when his head was filled with thoughts of chasing skirts instead. But now it seemed all those dreary lessons would be of some use.

"We have had some success in gathering the forces needed to overthrow the usurper. Two battalions or so, nothing much, but more than sufficient with the rest of our forces," the figure said.

By this time, Perthias knew better than to ask what they were. They would tell me when they were good and ready and not a moment before, he thought.

"We will need you to lead our troops into battle. We trust you have no objections?"

Perthias nodded, and felt some of his old warrior's blood rose to the fore. Finally, some action! He clenched a fist, reveling in the ripple of power that he felt emanating from it. He'd show them his body wasn't just good for fucking. Why, give him a sword or two and he'd carve a path two-deep through whatever they decided to throw at him.

"Stay your hand, Your Highness. It's not quite yet time." The figure gave a chuckle of amused patience. "First, we have someone we think you should meet..."