The Prince Transformed

Hello everyone, and welcome back to the third installment of my story! If you haven't read the first two parts, do go back and read them—this won't make much sense unless you do. You can find them here - the Princess Transformed and the Queen Transformed.

I'm still not entirely sure where this tale is going, but I hope you're enjoying the ride so far. :)

(slight spoiler for the story)

I watch a lot of hentai anime and read a lot of hentai manga, and in writing this I managed to show something that I've wanted to for some time now—namely, that it's possible to have a transformed MALE slut as well as females ones. Come on, guys—in hentai it's always this girl gets turned into this horny little thing who tend proceeds to have sex with lots of ugly guys. I'd like the tables to be turned once in a while—as well as the sex being with more attractive partners! I don't know about you, but even if I'm straight, I don't really like to see ugly guys have sex with pretty girls.

So I did something a little different with this story. Hope you like it!

(end slight spoiler)

For those of you who are following the tale, yes, there is an overarching plot and yes, I will reveal more about the hooded figure in time...

*

Perthias, prince of Erecia, wasn't quite sure what was going on...it had all happened so fast. It had been a normal day in the kingdom—going out wenching in the taverns, back to listen to boring old lectures from his teachers, and then perhaps a little light sword practice and then to bed. But the upstart mage Rampillion had seized control of things before he could even realize it. One moment he was strolling down the palace corridors and the next, a blow to the back of his head had stolen his consciousness. When he next came to, he was in the dungeon, barely able to breathe and nursing a swollen head.

He only found out what was happening from the whispered conversations the guards were having outside his cell door. Besides, the state of affairs, dire though they were, seemed to be the least of his problems.

His body had been changed—changed beyond all recognition. He had always been a strapping young man—not exactly tall dark and handsome, but possessed of a fine enough body and strong, supple limbs that turned the heads of noblewomen and commoners alike. He fancied that when he went wenching and whoring (which was often) that the girls he bedded didn't find it too much of a chore to submit themselves to his eager attentions. Sandy blond hair (that came from his father's side of the family...his mother and sister were dark-haired) and muscles honed from years of practice in swordplay—not too shabby, if he did say so himself.

But now he looked completely different. Where there had been a thin sheen of muscle on his abdomen and chest, now they fairly rippled with corded flesh. His arms and legs had grown larger—indeed his entire body had. He must have been seven feet at least, a veritable giant of a man. He felt stronger, more powerful, more virile—ready to take on anything and everything...if he wasn't chained to the wall of a dungeon, that is.

Those were not the only things that had changed. He had always been proud of his the size of his cock—it was above average, or at least, that was what all the serving maids whom he had bedded had told him again and again—though a niggling voice at the back of his head asked him repeatedly whether or not they were just saying that because he was the prince. But the...the...THING between his legs now beggared all belief. It was larger at rest than his previous one had been erect, a whorled and veined monster projecting between his legs. He remembered all the jokes he and his soldiers shared back in the barracks about horse cocks...this was a reality that was far from jovial.

He lay in chains for how long he couldn't tell, drifting in and out of wakefulness. Someone came to spoon feed him occasionally so he didn't starve, and slowly he felt strength return to his tired limbs. But lying there insensate, he felt the stirrings of something else as well...desire. Desire like he had never experienced before. It wasn't the usual stirrings in his loins every time he saw a pretty girl past by—this was something different altogether. It buffeted him like a storm, tossed his weary body in its wake, and hardened his already stiff member into steel-like rigidity.

He needed to have sex. It burned in him like a flame, rendering him powerless in its grip. His new body came with new urges, new wants, and his was undoubtedly one of them. He needed it...oh how he needed it! Whatever had turned him into whatever he was now had also caused him to desire fornication like a hungry man wants food. If he had thought he had been horny before, it was nothing to the intensity of these urges.

But lying there in chains, there was no way at all for him to slake the unnatural forces that twisted and writhed within him, and so he was forced to languish, waiting, waiting for succor that never came. He couldn't even touch himself since his hands were chained to the wall, and so he breathed heavily, cursing the usurper and dreaming of lusty ladies and freedom.

* * *

The day dawned and brought with it rescue of a sort. Two soldiers—Rampillion's personal guard, most probably, he had never seen them before—came up to him dragged him roughly away from his cell and into the castle grounds proper. With his new girth and strength, he thought to resist their non-too gentle efforts, but his imprisonment and his desires had sapped his vigor and addled his mind, and so he let himself be brought to wherever it was they were taking him to.

Which apparently was to women of all types, shapes and sorts. At this point he didn't much care what they looked like. The spell that had transformed his body had intensified in power during the night, until all he wanted to do was fuck—the saying that beggars could not be choosers most definitely applied to him right now. His member had become so engorged and so large that it threatened to burst the confines of the flimsy loincloth that he had been provided with, and he would have felt shame at how lewd a display he was making as he was led through the castle that had once been his home...except that he was too horny to feel anything but sexual desire.

So when the first willing woman touched his inflamed manhood, he almost exploded there and then, but instead he somehow managed to wait until he sheathed himself in her warm slit and came there instead. Whatever had been done to him had also increased the volume of his spending, and it felt like a fountain was spurting from his huge cock. In the fugue of lust that he found himself in, he couldn't even remember who it was that he was fucking—a chambermaid? A noblewoman? One of the rare female guards...it didn't matter. He needed to mate, and as the day wore on his needs were sated amply.

He felt like a prized bull, and in some ways he was. He was brought around to service the women of the castle, whenever they wanted, however they wanted. There was a certain irony in it that he couldn't fail to see. In the past he devoted a non-inconsiderable amount of time chasing tail, and now he was getting all the pussy he could handle and more. But it was different now. Instead of being the one in charge, he was slave to the desires of others. No more the dashing and handsome prince, causing maidens to swoon at his presence...instead, a thickly muscled and perpetually horny lean giant of a man, completely at the mercy of any female who so much as touched him. All the strength and power of his new form was nothing before the light touch of girl or woman—he found himself helpless to do anything but comply with any of their requests.

He wasn't sure if this was the gods punishing him for his past indiscretions, but there was a part of him which certainly felt so. Daphnia had been forever remonstrating him for his philandering ways, and perhaps this was his time to pay the piper. Back then it had seemed a natural thing to do—he was a man, after all, with needs, and what was the use of being the prince of a kingdom if it didn't mean having his way with fair maidens from time to time? His sister and mother had things well in hand, and it wasn't as if he had shirked ALL his princely duties...just the ones he didn't want to do.

But that was all far away and gone now. His days now consisted of mindless fornication with whoever his handlers brought him to. It wasn't as if the women he was made to fuck were hideous—far from it. Some of the noblewomen were quite comely indeed, and he would have gladly tupped them even in his former body. He did enjoy the adoring eyes of the maids and serving girls, and though he raged at his imprisonment, his male pride did find some small relief in how taken his lovers were with his bulging biceps and huge member, cooing and stroking him as he ravaged them mercilessly.

If he were only allowed to stroke himself, he could at least manage to take care of his own needs—but instead he was chained to the walls each day as he was led back to his cell. As it was, his only relief could be found in the warm tunnels of the females that he serviced every day. The part of his mind that actually remembered the lessons he had been taught at the hands of his tutors could see the sweet intricacy of the trap set for him—he would spend each night in restless agony, unable to come on his own, and then have to lick, suck and fuck his way to a measure of release the next day...only to have to all taken away from him again as the evening dawned. They were shackles no less real than the ones that encircled his hands and feet. Whoever this Rampillion was, he was as sadistic as he was clever.

He wondered what had happened to Daphnia and his mother...he was sure his sister would have tried to challenge the usurper at some point, but evidently he had failed. He hoped that they had both gotten away at some point, but somehow he doubted it. He saw the changes to the kingdom, but all he could really afford to pay attention to was the constant engorgement of his member. He smiled ruefully as he remembered the many times his elder female relatives had chastised him for thinking with his other head...now it seemed that that was the only thing he could. Escape plans danced through his mind—try to disarm the guards when they unshackled him? Make a mad dash for freedom while he was being brought through the gardens? (it was the widest and broadest area of the castle, his new muscles would ensure a head start, surely...) but he discarded them even as one by one popped into his head. Even if he did manage to get away from the castle, his increased appetites and sheer size—he definitely looked different from most of the male population—would ensure that he was found out sooner or later.

No, there was nothing to do but bide his time, bide his time and hope.

* * *

It was another day in the stocks, trying and failing to contain the burning sensation in his loins, when she arrived.

He was barely aware of the cell door swinging open, but the moment she walked in his member engorged and stiffened at the sight of her, and he couldn't blame it. She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

Back in his time as the prince of the kingdom, he had his pick of maidens fair and dainty, and he had slept with small, lithe things with long and graceful limbs, to buxom barmaids, full-fleshed and passionate and everything in between. None of them looked like the woman standing in front of him. He actually couldn't tell if she was a girl or a woman—she looked to be at that age where a female is just on the cusp of womanhood but has not crossed that barrier yet.

But no woman or girl possessed a body like the one that was standing in front of him, driving him nearly insane just by looking at her. She had a figure like you could not imagine—slender but curved in all the right places. Long legs and wide, flaring hips, to say nothing of the sharp but gentle lines of her heart-shaped face, one would have driven the high-priced courtesans of the realm green with envy. All that with gold-flecked eyes the color of sapphires, and a long waterfall of shimmering hair.

She had the largest breasts of any female he ever seen, but somehow, they sagged not an inch, riding high and proud on her chest. One would have expected breasts that large to look absurd or ridiculous on such a sylphlike frame, but they complemented her perfectly, set off by the fullness of her behind and the rondure of her hips. They sloped gracefully down, half teardrop, half spheres, and it was all he could do to tear his eyes away from them.

And she was blue. As in, her skin was blue—a deep shade of cobalt that seemed to glow and shine as she walked towards him. Combined with her silver hair and golden eyes, the effect was no less than spectacular. He noticed absently that even her small, pert nipples and large areolae were also blue, a deep shade of azure that contrasted with the color of her skin.

She walked towards him slowly as he lay there, mouth agape, and placed a cool, soft hand on his raging erection. He had to stifle a sharp breath and close his eyes...God, it felt so good! Like he was going to spurt off just there and then. Their eyes met and he held his gaze for a few seconds, smiling an impish smile. A few more strokes and she had brought him to the edge, and he took in a hasty breath to prevent himself from coming—an effort which soon proved useless, as with a giggle, she stroked him to a swift climax immediately after.

He came and came and came some more, and in seconds there was a small puddle of white goo on the cell floor, as well as spatters of come all over his muscled thighs. She knelt to clean his body and his still-hard member slowly, alternating long, slow licks with fast, quick ones, and he had barely had enough time to recover from his first orgasm before a second one was almost upon him. As if she could sense the changes in his body, she locked eyes with him again, gave him a lascivious smile...then fastened her plush lips around his member and sent him to heaven once again, a climax that sent him over the edge and into oblivion.

When he finally came to, she was gone, and all that remained of her passing was the come on the floor and her saliva drying on his legs. His body had been licked clean of his spending—the mysterious maiden had quite the appetite for semen, or so it seemed. He didn't know why she was here, or where she had come from, but he was very grateful for the relief that she provided.

* * *

Her visits were irregular at best. And when she wasn't around, he would content herself with fever dreams of her light silver hair and blue skin, her enormous chest, swaying ever so slightly with her every motion.

The only thing was that, restrained as he was, he was unable to actually touch herÅcthe things he wanted to do to that body! As it was, he had to be content with handjobs and blowjobs and the way her agile tongue danced up and down his tumescent organ oh so adroitly.

But he would take what he could get, and the orgasms he had at her skilled hands at least took the edge of his perpetual horniness. He no longer felt like he was going to go mad from desire, and between her ministrations and his daily rounds, he was able to retain some semblance of sanity amidst all the changes that had happened to him.

He tried many times to talk to her, but all he got in return were giggles and laughs. Once, in the throes of an especially violent eruption that sent his seed flying halfway across the room, she had laughed and babbled something in an alien language that sounded like waterfalls. Panting as he came down from his high, he had attempted conversation once more, but all he got in response were blank looks and smiles.

She seemed content to just give him handjobs, though he was sure that she felt desire for him as well—he saw the hungry way she would look at his cock when, and more than once when she left, he spotted a trail of clear fluid working its way down her thighs. But there was no way to know why she was doing what she was...maybe she had been ordered not to have sex with him, maybe she wanted to but could not. There were as many unknowns about her as the orgasm that he had at her hands.

Like for instance, what manner of creature WAS she? Normal human girls didn't have blue skin, or breasts half the size of watermelons. He dimly recalled a long-ago conversation with his sister in which she talked about ancient magics used to enslave unsuspecting victims, turning them into oversexed caricatures of humans, unable to do anything more than mate furiously. She had also implied archly that he might prefer to be one of those instead of the prince of the realm...but now that he was, he found that he longed for the relative normalcy of his princely life.

All that didn't explain what she was, though. If they were both indeed transformed slaves, why was his skin color different than hers? She also seemed far more able to control her desires...in all the time they had spent together, she had not had sex with him even once. Was she from a different country? That would explain the language barrier...so many questions so few answers.

Her visits sometimes seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane. After weeks (months? he had no way of telling time) of captivity, he had more control over his new body, but it still felt like he was going to explode most of the time. He tried deep breathing, and all the mental techniques that he had learnt from his tutors, and he was surprised to find that they helped a little...but only a little. His new body still had him deeply in its thrall, and thoughts of mating consumed most of his waking moments.

* * *

Then one day his wishes came true—after a fashion.

She had come to him in at night while he was dozing, and he was roused from his fitful slumber by her girlish giggle and her light-fingered touch upon his rod. He liked how she had moods—one day she would go straight for his cock, sucking at voraciously, and at others she would first begin by tracing lines all over his muscled chest, pausing to lick his earlobes and bite ever-so-slightly at them.

Today was one of the latter days. He had his eyes closed as usual, letting out soft groans at her able attentions until he looked down and saw her take his length into her mouth in a single, swift motion. He was so surprised at the sudden change in her pace that he came right there and then, and as his vision wavered with the intensity of his climax, he could still see her elfin face smiling at him as she gulped everything down. He wasn't sure if he was more amazed that she was able to swallow his copious load or take it into her mouth, or both.

She licked her lips and stood suddenly, batting her long, fairy-like lashes at him. Something was different today, he could sense it. Could today be the day? He felt his organ begin to harden again at the thought...gods dammed slave body, getting aroused at even the notion of sex. Either that or it was her body that made the difference—beauty seemingly made by the heavens themselves.

She leant over to kiss him and he could feel the hunger in her lips and tongue as it slipped into his mouth, a supple yet welcome intruder. Could it be that she might actually, that she was going to—his wild imaginings were cut off by her breaking their lip lock and moving down to nuzzle at his neck lightly, her huge breasts pushing up against his chest. He could feel her nipples hardening, twin hard diamonds of desire seemingly to cut deeply into his muscled abdomen.

Despite just coming a few moments ago, his erection was now at full mast, standing proud and strong. She reached up to kiss him again, and even through the fog of desire that enshrouded him, he was relieved that he couldn't taste himself on her plush lips.