The Princess Transformed Ch 02 1

I'm back with another installment in the continuing adventures of the royal family! Where will they end up? What is the true identity of the mysterious stranger? Will they ever regain their kingdom and original bodies? Who knows? I'm the writer and I'm not completely certain myself. :)

What I am certain of is the fact that I am enjoying writing this and I greatly appreciate all the positive comments I have gotten. Keep em coming! Please do tell me what you liked or didn't like. We writers live for this kind of feedback.

If you're confused about who all these people are, please start reading from the first installment, The Princess Transformed, and things should get a lot clearer.

I hope it's also clear in my writing that this just isn't smut, its smut with a PLOT. I like erotica that has lots of good, high-quality fucking (which I dearly hope I am

delivering!) but also stuff besides fucking. I have absolutely nothing against PWP smut (we all need that on occasion, don't we?) but I'd like to set my bar a little higher!

I would also like to thank my awesome and dedicated editor/proofreader, moncrifelle for her excellent work on my chapter.

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It was just another day in the life of Daphnia the elfslut. That is to say, she woke up in the morning, had her breakfast of fresh cum (drunk straight from the source, as it were) and then her routine would begin. Who would she service today? The chambermaids in waiting? The soldiers in the barracks, her most frequent port of call? The visiting dignitaries from another kingdom who wanted entertainment besides bards and jesters? She didn't know and it wasn't as if she didn't care, but there was little she could do about it even if she did.

Or so she thought, but on that day there was one a very large difference. When she got back from her daily exertions in the barracks again, the door to her cell had been left unlocked.

She stood there in amazement for a second, and then her eyes narrowed. It looked like the resistance had finally come through with at least one part of their bargain. They had promised her freedom, and it looked like they had delivered. A telltale flicker at the edge of consciousness made her shift to astral vision (she still possessed that magical ability despite her transformation) and there, above the pallet that passes for her bed, was an arcane message inscribed on the walls.

Princess Daphnia, escape from the castle tonight. We have made sure that the gates are open and that no one will hinder your egress. Rendezvous with a youth named Tivin in a

cottage near the outskirts of the forest. We have left further instructions with him. Good luck, and godspeed.

We? So there was more than one of them...somehow she wasn't surprised. Considering that Rampillion was strong and clever enough to undermine Erecia's foundations in a day—to say nothing of being skilled enough in magecraft to best her in magical battle—she surmised that one hooded and mysterious stranger, no matter how skilled or powerful, wouldn't have been enough to break her out of prison. And he did mention there was a resistance...

There would be enough time for idle speculation later. Concentrating on what magical abilities were left to her, Daphnia managed to see a line of sigils in the air leading her away from the cell and into areas of the castle she had never explored, even when she was still the princess. She navigated the cold, damp corridors of the lower floors until she came to a place even beyond the dungeons where she had been kept.

The old aqueducts—when she was small, she had been told that she should never come here, if not, kelpies and other monsters would eat her up—tall tales told to dissuade her from

exploring and keep her back in her rooms, memorizing spells and etiquette lessons, no doubt. Apparently, it seemed that the resistance knew her residence better than she did herself. The sigils in the air formed a sparkling line that led further into the unexplored bowels of the castle.

She had no other options but to follow it. As she made her way through the long, twisting tunnels to, hopefully, the surface, questions formed and bubbled in her mind. Where was this leading her? What would happen to her when she got there? So many questions...the transformed princess tried her hardest to concentrate on her surroundings and follow the path as best she could. The biting cold caused her nipples to become uncomfortably erect, and as always, she had to be careful that she didn't bump them into any of the walls, but in the past months she had gotten used to her new body, and she made it out with a minimum of difficulty.

This wasn't to say that it was easy going the entire way. Each second that she spent in the bowels of the castle was another second that she feared that the guards would have gotten wind of her escape. What if some courtier had requested her presence, and she was nowhere to be found? How many more steps did she have to take before she reached the end of the tunnel? The day's exertions, though undoubtedly pleasurable, had tired her out more than she thought, and Daphnia found herself stumbling part of the way through the rocks and pebbles that dotted the caverns she traversed. Elfsluts were not provided with any kind of footwear, and she narrowly avoided stubbing her toe on a particularly sharp piece of gravel more than once.

She emerged in a small glade a few miles from the castle, and looked back at her former home with a mixture of rage, regret and fear—rage at the usurper, regret at having to leave her home behind, and fear at what would come next. But there was no way but forwards at this point. Nothing remained for her there but an eternity spent in carnal servitude to others. No matter how much pleasure her thrice-cursed new body gave her when she had sex, it wasn't how she wanted to spend the rest of her days.

Her journey was far from complete, though. She still had to find the cottage that the letter spoke of. The walk through the woods wasn't half as bad as the one through the caverns, but still, each cry of a woodland creature or branch snapping beneath her bare feet scared the transformed princess more than she would have cared to admit. The line of light continued to lead her onwards, but she still possessed a very human fear of darkness that was hard to tamp down completely.

After about half an hour of walking, she did indeed manage to find the cottage. Daphnia debated knocking on the door for a bit, but in the end she just opened it and walked in. A sandy-haired youth was waiting with a worried expression on his face—Tivin, she presumed. He looked to be around 19 or 20—not quite a man, but not a boy either. He looked up at her and his features softened into pure relief.

"Princess! Is that you?" he burst out, "I'm so glad you're safe!"

Princess? How did he know she was the princess? Her body was still that of an elfslut, and no physical trace of Princess Daphnia remained. Her confusion must have shown on her face because he smiled reassuringly.

"It's all right, your Highness. The Resistance told me about what happened to you. But we will talk more in the morning. You must be tired from your journey."

The many questions that Daphnia wanted to ask died on her lips...now that he mentioned it, she WAS tired. She had been so high on adrenaline and the myriad emotions she had experienced during her escape that the fact had evaded her until now. Her eyelids drooping, she nodded in thanks and let Tivin lead her to a small bed where she could rest. And in moments, she had tumbled into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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Morning, her first outside the castle, brought with it blue skies, white clouds and real food. It was porridge with a pat of butter, and Daphnia devoured it greedily. As much as she had grown to like the taste of...certain bodily fluids, there was no substitute for a proper breakfast, and she relished every bite, as well as noting it's unfortunate resemblance to her breakfast of the day before.

After he had cleared away the plates, Tivin was able to sit down and answer the many questions Daphnia had for him. Unfortunately, the resistance had told him next to nothing.

He was to meet the princess in his cottage, more specifically, his father's cottage. Tivin the Elder was away on a hunting trip, and his son was tending the small plot of land that they both lived on. They were to get to the town of Asdale as soon as possible, whereupon someone else would meet them.

No mention was made of her other family members, or breaking the spell that had been cast on her. As to the resistance itself, the boy—youth, actually, in that awkward space between child and man-didn't know much, other than the fact that an organization to resist Rampillion had been created, and that he had joined the moment he knew of its existence.

Daphnia had many other questions. How was the kingdom faring? What was being done to oppose the usurper? Who or what comprised this resistance? But she sensed that the boy was only a willing pawn in a game far beyond his comprehension. After all, he was only a simple farmer's son, even though his loyalty to the kingdom was strong and admirable. She could do worse than subjects like that. Besides, which, time was of the essence, and every moment spent dallying was a moment more that they didn't have to lose. Her escape had surely been detected by now, and she was eager to get as far away from Erecia as possible.

When it came to the question of clothes, though, she and Tivin came up short. Her proportions meant that no simple peasant dress could fit her. If they could even find one—Tivin lived alone with his father, and all they had were simple linen shirts and breeches. Princess and youth looked helplessly at the assortment of ill-fitting clothes in the cupboard before the former had a bright idea.

"Tivin?" Daphnia hadn't yet gotten used to how her new voice sounded. It was pitched a little higher than her old one, dulcet and melodious...there wasn't much occasion to use it in the castle (she was usually moaning, instead of talking) and so she marveled a little at at the sounds coming from her throat.

"Yes, your Highness?" The boy appeared at her side, eager to please as always.

"Do you happen to have a sewing kit around here?" It seemed that Daphnia's long neglected needlework would finally be of some use.

"Of course, Princess!" A minute of excited scrounging later and he had produced a few needles, some cotton thread and an extremely dusty ruler. Daphnia eyed them critically and nodded. They would have to do. The princess sat down at the wooden bench they had breakfasted at to begin her work.

"Two of your spare shirts, if you please?" Daphnia smiled at Tivin's retreating back as he scurried off to obey her command. He was such a dear. And, if she was being completely honest with herself, not too hard on the eyes, either. He had a certain fresh-faced simplicity and charm to his boyish features, and the loveliest blue eyes. In fact...Daphnia shook her head. This was no time to be thinking about anything besides the task at hand. She took the shirts that Tivin had provided and began sewing.

Adapting the clothes to fit her proved a much harder task than either of them had anticipated. Firstly, no matter how much work was done, a shirt was still a shirt and not a dress. Secondly—once again, it was her damnable elfslut body that proved a nuisance—her massive chest threatened to tear the material asunder, and her flared hips made sure that even two pairs of breeches stitched together could not make a skirt wide enough to cover them.

After a few futile attempts at working with the material on the bench, Daphnia had another brainwave.

"Tivin, come over here." The youth appeared at her side almost instantly. He was very obedient, definitely manservant material.

"Yes, your Highness?" Though there was something about the way he stood, and the way his eyes darted...he was nervous. But about what?

"Hold this shirt here for me." Daphnia motioned to a space a few inches from her exposed shoulder. "I'm going to try to sew them together while wearing one." She was currently wearing the fruits of her handiwork—a rather hastily done halter top. As it was now, though, she could barely take two steps without her prodigious breasts popping out.

As an experiment, she thought that it might make more sense for her to try stitching on new material while she was wearing something, as she hadn't a dress form with which to do a comparison with. And since she had a ready and willing helper nearby, why not?

The boy did as he was told, with rather more blinking and shuffling than was necessary. Daphnia managed to make the necessary amendments to her outfit and at the same time couldn't help but notice just how well-cut her assistant was. A lifetime of hard labor in the fields had given him a fine sheen of muscle that she found very attractive indeed, and the princess was hard pressed to keep her eyes only on the piece of clothing that she was making.

"Do you think it fits well?" she asked him absently. Now if she could only get the cloth to stay where she wanted it to...

"Ye...yes, your Highness. It fits very well indeed." She shot him a sharp glance and noticed that the youth was pointedly NOT looking anywhere near her. Which gave her a clue as to why he was so distracted.

On a whim, Daphnia gave him a few more orders, which he swiftly complied with—too swiftly, she thought. She observed him as he went about the hut, picking up shirt after shirt and putting them in a neat pile near her.

Could it be...yes, yes it was. He was trying his best not to look at her. Because when he did—and she had caught him sneaking a few glances here and there—it was most certainly not in the way that a subject looks at his liege. It was filled with the same intensity and passion that she had seen in the eyes of many a man (and woman!) back at the castle—a look of lust-filled desire.

She couldn't quite blame him. He was a healthy, virile (very, from the looks of it) young man working near a voluptuous elfslut with proportions that would inflame a eunuch. It was a testament to his good manners that he was even trying to avert his gaze. A lesser man would have taken the opportunity to make each glance count.

She sighed. Still, they had a job to do, and she couldn't have him dithering and being distracted.

"Tivin, come and stand here. I've almost got this done, just a few more stitches ought to do it. And no fidgeting this time."

She refrained from telling him that she knew he was not paying complete attention to the task at hand.

"Yes, your Highness." His usual reply, delivered with absolute promptness. She finished up the top and then started on what were the beginnings of a skirt.

"Be a dear and get me just one more shirt, would you? We're almost done."

It turned out that her idea of working on a live model, namely, herself, had been a good one. With her actual proportions—lush though they might be—as reference, they were able to finish the skirt with the same ease that they had done the halter top. Neither piece of clothing could be called modest. There was only so much simple linen could do to disguise her otherworldly curves, so her shirt still gave way to a deep canyon of cleavage and her skirt would be best described as figure-hugging. But they would do.

Daphnia was so pleased at her success that without thinking she had given her manservant a quick peck on the cheek. He blushed almost immediately.

"Thank you for your help, Tivin. I couldn't have done it without you."

"It...it's nothing. Your Highness. Happy to be of assistance."

"Let's go to bed now. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"A...all right. Yes, as you say, Princess. The...the bed is over here, and I'll take the floor."

She was about to protest when she saw the look on his face. There was no way that he would ever let the princess of Erecia sleep on the floor while he could help him. Sighing, Daphnia acquiesced to his demand and settled into the pallet he had provided. Within minutes they fell asleep.

Their journey started uneventfully enough. They travelled light—Tivin had a backpack for himself, and little else except for a few changes of clothes. They would stick mainly to the forest to make use of the boy's woodland skills, as well as remain undetected. They would set a brisk pace each day, so it would take, at most, about a few weeks to reach the town of Asdale, which Daphnia remembered as being quite far on foot.

The road to town was long, and Daphnia tried to make small talk to alleviate their boredom.

But trouble appeared in unexpected places, namely, in the form of sexual attraction. She hadn't missed the surreptitious glances Tivin had been giving her the whole day and the night before.

"Do you go to Asdale often, Tivin?"

"No, your Highness. Just whenever we need to sell our crops, or buy new livestock. It's a simple life out here in the fields."

There it was again—his gaze lingered on the valley between her breasts a moment longer than necessary.

Daphnia smiled inwardly but pretended not to notice.

"I see. And do you live alone with your father?"

"Yes, Princess. My ma died birthing me, and it's just been the two of us since."

This time it was her legs he had rested his gaze on—two long lithesome and golden limbs peeking out from the skirt that they had labored on.

As they continued riding, he shot looks at her that ranged from heated glances of lust to almost ogling her overdeveloped charms, then blushing and turning away before he thought she would notice.

It didn't come as any surprise. She was used to being looked at in the castle, and she had come to almost enjoy showing off her new body...even if she often wrestled with how much pleasure it was to display herself to others.

She couldn't quite blame him. Her transformed form was designed to arouse and to tantalize, and it did so most splendidly. At first, she had just tried to ignore it—it wasn't

his fault and they had other, more important things to do.

But it got steadily worse as the day wore on. The same wide, curving hips that had turned the heads of so many soldiers now worked their magic on Tivin, and her gigantic chest, swaying and bouncing with the slightest motion (gods, why did Rampillion have to make them so BIG?) drew his attention away from the road more than once. She almost laughed aloud when once, trying his best to look and not look at the same time, he almost slammed his head into a hanging branch. But it was far from a laughing matter.

She could only imagine what kind of a war was raging inside the poor boy's head. On one hand, here was a delectable, voluptuous elfslut, the likes of which he had never seen

before. On the other hand, that same elfslut was also his princess, and he was honor-bound and sworn to protect her, and definitely NOT sneak peeks at her when he thought she

wasn't looking. It was a dilemma that the princess did not envy him. She even had more than her fair share of sympathy for the poor boy—he was only a man, after all.

Daphnia didn't know whether to be embarrassed, flattered or impressed. In the end she decided to be neither. But she hadn't reckoned on her own burgeoning desires. Being in the castle and fucked by men and women, one after another on a daily (almost hourly!) basis for months, she had forgotten how the normal world worked. People were not supposed to throw each other down on the floor and ravage them without at least saying 'hello' first. She had become accustomed to having her itches scratched, and to be without sex—or to put it more accurately, fucking—was a burden on her that she wasn't aware of.

The first few hours were okay. The excitement of the new situation took the edge off her constant arousal, and her mind filled with thoughts of freedom and the future. But as night fell, she felt the all-too familiar heat in her pussy spring to life, kindled in no small part by her companion's clandestine looks. She could see a bulge in his trousers that he tried the best to hide (the darling!) and the princess blushed as she discovered that she all but licked her lips when she looked at it. What he would taste like, she wondered. Slightly bitter, like the castle guards? But he was a farmer's son, and his diet would be better than the soldiers, so maybe he would be a little sweeter, like cooks and stableh...no, no, NO! They were on a mission, and these kinds of thoughts were wholly inappropriate.