The Queen Transformed

Here I am with the next chapter in the series. Thanks to everyone who read, commented, or otherwise wrote in with friendly words. I might not have written it without you - feel proud!

I think that I am finally overcoming my feelings of shame and criticism in writing erotic fiction by well, writing MORE erotic fiction. It's been an interesting process, and continues to be one. Only fate will tell where I go from here.

I do actually have a rough guideline of where this story will end up, and rest assured I am not mentioning various plot points (the mysterious stranger etc) just for shits and giggles. It's not just ALL sex, folks. But even as the writer, in many ways I'm also just along for the ride. I'm not sure whether it will turn out exactly as I envisioned it, but... that's the whole fun of writing, isn't it? We will return to Daphnia eventually, if that was what you thought the second chapter would be about.

In any case, please enjoy the story. I did have fun writing it, and I do plan on finishing the series (eventually) I'm not sure when that will be, though.

Do write in with any comments that you might have, I like knowing the effect my work has on people. And if I get enough mails, I might be inspired to actually write faster! :) (shameless plug, yes, I know!)

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Gladia Altrisson stared at the mirror in trepidation, shaking and wishing she wouldn't. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Rampillion's troops came for her. The coup had happened overnight, and the royal family had been defenseless against it. It was only the last minute warning of her faithful maidservant that sent her to her chambers before the Crimson Mage's soldiers could seize her.

She hoped the rest of the family was ok, especially Daphnia. Her daughter was a skilled mage, but headstrong and often reckless in her actions. She had probably gone straight to the throne room to challenge the usurper...that is, if she hadn't been thrown in the dungeon already. As for everyone else - the queen shook her head. There was no time to think of them. She had to attend to herself first.

Gladia looked down at the glass bottle filled with amber liquid that her trembling fingers grasped. It was only to be used in emergencies, said the alchemist who had created it. She had no idea what it might do, or what might happen when she drank it. But the situation had left her with no choice. All the statecraft and knowledge she possessed would do her no good in these times. Swallowing her fear and apprehension, the queen lifted the contents of the bottle to her lips and drank.

Nothing happened.

She cursed, then cursed again, and then cursed once more for good measure. She knew that she shouldn't have trusted that smelly old man. She had only done so on the advice of her mother, who swore that he had always treated their family well and that she should commission at least one potion from him in case of emergencies. Acting against her own instinct, she had done so, and now she was going to pay the price for...

Wait. She felt something. A subtle heat had begun to radiate from her waist, and it slowly spread to every part of her body. The potion was working after all.

The queen had always been proud of her figure. What with the pressures of running a kingdom, raising children, it was difficult to maintain her youthful good looks that when she was younger had caught the eye of many a young suitor, but she tried her best. She eschewed the salt baths and questionable concoctions that her peers and friends recommended, but instead took great care with her diet and exercise. She took a certain pleasure in the fact that on occasion, soldiers and courtiers alike would glance at her a little more than necessary, then turn away quickly before she could catch them in the act. She wouldn't have reprimanded them in any case - a woman liked to feel appreciated.

But what was happening to her put all her efforts to shame. Gladia gasped as the potion began to do its work. First was her skin - previously pale white, it darkened to a golden bronze hue. Her hips flared out, and she could feel but not see her buttocks expand into firm pillows. Her eyes grew wide and slanted, her nose longer and more pert. Eyebrows that were nondescript thickened into sharp relief on her new face. Her legs lengthened, giving her two extra inches of height and her lips plumped out slightly and turned cherry red. Her hair grew midnight black and fell to the small of her back.

But the biggest change was her breasts. The queen had never been flat-chested - in fact, in her younger days she had been quite well-endowed indeed. But now her chest surged outwards like a living thing, popping the buttons on her hastily-done dress easily. Gladia stared at the mirror in horrified fascination, appalled yet unable to look away as her breasts grew into two enormous mounds of flesh that jutted proudly out in front of her. Her nipples changed color as well - from a pale coral pink to a rosy chestnut, and even her areolae widened to fit her new endowments.

When it was all over, Gladia stood in shock, looking at her new self in the mirror. She touched herself unbelievingly, noting how her skin was now soft as a baby's and almost as sensitive. Then she looked up into the mirror again in disbelief. She looked like, looked like...a slavegirl.

On her diplomatic tours to other countries, she had seen them - men and women turned into gross caricatures of their former selves, their organs swelled to strange proportions and the rest of their bodies made impossibly attractive. She had turned away from them, appalled at their appearance and wanton nature, but secretly she had been curious. Upon coming home she had asked her daughter about the magics needed to change them into what they were, and Daphnia had replied that yes, they did exist, but they had been forbidden in Erecia for as long as they could remember. She couldn't help but wonder what life was like for one of them...doomed to do nothing except couple day in and day out, to serve others in pleasure and have no choice in the matter.

But here she was, stuck in the body of one of those slaves. She guessed that it was only a matter of time before her question was answered.

She touched herself again slowly. That was what the potion was supposed to do? She felt it was a cruel game by the alchemist that made it. What was he thinking? And what had her mother seen in him?

It had saved her in a sense, though. No one would suspect that the voluptuous slave girl in the queen's quarters was the former ruler of Erecia. In that way she had indeed been rescued, though not in the way that she had expected or wanted.

She stole out of her rooms, walking slowly as she began accustomed to her new figure. Her entire center of gravity had changed, and she had initial difficulty in walking in a straight line. Strangely enough, instead of being a hindrance, her immense chest served as a counterbalance of sorts. She had to walk with it thrust out slightly and take careful steps, but it did help steady her wavering gait as she made it out of her rooms and into the castle proper.

---

It was a simple matter for her to steal into the slave's quarters and pose as one of them. What with the turmoil from the coup, no one bothered to count an extra slave girl or two, and Gladia found that she was not the only one there. Far from it - where there had previously only been servants and maids-in-waiting, now the courtyard and quarters overflowed with female and male slaves of all sizes and descriptions. Some of them were elfsluts - with breasts almost as large as hers, long, tapering ears and beautiful, sharp faces. Still others seemed to be cast from the same mold as her - tall and tanned, with long hair reached to the small of their back and sensuous, full lips. She noted with some degree of consternation (or pride?) that none of them seemed to have breasts as big as hers were.

Adjusting to life as a slave was easy enough. Slaves didn't need to think, or give commands, or do anything - they only needed to go where they were told, and do what they were instructed to do. She followed the rest of the slaves docilely, going to the mess halls to eat with them, and returning to the slave quarters at night. With any luck no one would notice her, and she would be safe from the prying eyes of Rampillion's enforcers.

But there was one thing that continued to loom large in her mind. She kept to herself, wary of talking, or of drawing any undue attention to herself whatsoever, but the blossoming heat between her legs would not be denied. And she knew that she could not escape her duties forever. So it was with equal relief and horror when one day, during a passing inspection, an overseer pointed to her and told her to go to the male slave quarters.

The walk there was the longest she had ever taken in her life. Each step seemed to take an eternity, and as she neared her destination what had been a subtle heat between her legs had flared into a raging inferno. She debated running away...but where would she go? No one recognized her as the queen. There was no antidote to the potion that she knew of. In the deepest parts of her mind, a dark desire flowered, and that - more than the need for secrecy or self-preservation - propelled her to where she knew she would be used mercilessly.

---

When she finally arrived at the slave quarters, she was surprised at what awaited her there. Firstly, she hadn't expected the male slaves to be quite so...attractive. They ranged in type from bald to bearded, all different colors and sizes. She recognized some dark, swarthy ones as being from the Southern isles, and other blondes from the Aesgarth Isles. But what they all had in common were fit bodies and muscles, hard lines and strong backs that only served to make inflame her desire further.

And their cocks...so many of them. The queen was not exactly a stranger to men's genitalia - after all, she had had children before. But when her new body and perspective, she was able to appreciate them in a completely new light. They seemed so strong, so hard and long and...big. Her eyes darted from one to the next, noting each whorl and vein. Some were circumcised, topped with bulging purple heads, and some weren't, but they all looked so...so...delicious.

Once again Gladia wasn't sure if it was the potion speaking or her, but it had ceased to matter the instant she had stepped into the room. She knew what was going to happen, and judging by the lust-filled looks that the men were shooting her, they knew as well. She was a slavegirl, and she was going to have to serve the slaves to the best of her ability.

Serve the slaves? She, the queen? But she couldn't help but feel a spark being ignited in her loins at the very thought. There was something about them - their raw masculinity, their muscled chests and ardent stares, that made inflamed her desire. Potion or no, she was in the grip of something greater than herself, and she found herself obeying that without question.

She walked over slowly, still not fully used to her new endowments. By leaning back slightly as she walked and thrusting her chest out, she could ensure that she didn't topple over - with the end result of proudly displaying her charms for everyone to see. Gladia suspected that that was another effect of the potion, but she had no way to ask the old man who made it to know if that was true. It had taken her some time to get used to how to move readily again, and how the giant weights on her chest would bounce over so slowly when she even so much as took a step.

Twelve pairs of eyes were riveted to her enormous breasts as slowly swayed forwards, and she discovered to her amazement and shame that as she neared the waiting men that she was almost drooling in anticipation. She resisted the urge to start fingering herself, and instead strolled over to them as nonchalantly as she could manage.

They were chained to the wall, so it was up to her to initiate things. Dropping to her knees near the closest slave - a bald, muscled giant of a man, she gently took his member into her mouth. The transformed queen had never given a blowjob before, but what she lacked in technique she more than made up for in enthusiasm, licking and sucking with barely concealed passion. Within seconds the slave came into her waiting mouth with a groan, and she found herself swallowing his come with glee.

She was about to move on to the next, but the slave she had just sucked off suddenly reached out to grab her by the waist. The chains were apparently longer than she thought...Gladia fought for a moment to get away, but was easily overpowered. With a guttural grunt and completely without preamble, the slave had twisted the queen around and plunged his still-hard length into her.

Gladia's eyes bugged out in surprise. It was all so sudden! But within seconds she found herself moaning and rocking her wide hips back to meet the slave's hard thrusts. A few moments of their frenzied motions and she found herself coming hard - her new body was just too sensitive! - but the slave paid her no heed, rutting into her with the tenacity of a bull and the stamina to match. It was barely a minute into their savage mating when she crested the wave again, her lover following suit scant seconds later, spurting into her willing tunnel with the force of a geyser.

She collapsed onto the floor, hot come dripping from her well-used slit. It took her a while to recover from the shattering orgasm she had experienced, and she shot a slightly annoyed glance at the slave, who simply grinned back at her. Lying on the floor, breathing hard with her legs splayed open for all the men in the room to see - she discovered three things. The first that she wasn't really angry at him - she was more grateful than anything else. The second was that what she just had experienced was the best sex she ever had in her life.

And the third was that she was still horny.

As she staggered to her feet, the last fact continued to ring inside her skull, obliterating all other thoughts. She righted herself, thrusting her prodigious chest outwards. Slaves or no, these were still her people, and as a queen, she was honor-bound to do them justice. She walked over to them slowly, licking her lips in anticipation.

Which in this case meant coupling with them in every way possible. They were still restrained by chains, so a full range of movement was not feasible, but they did what they could with their limited circumstances. She knelt to suck them off, then stood to fit their thick rods into her weeping cunt, then turned around to let them ravage her from behind. Between rounds, she even got it into her head to tease them. She danced away from her grasping hands and fondled her oversized boobs, delighting in the fact that they were helpless to do anything but watch. They were big enough that if she tried hard, she could even fit a nipple into her mouth - and so she did just that, looking up from her sucking to see that her breast play had aroused her audience even more. Next, she stroked her burning pussy, still meeting the slaves' eyes - until eventually lust overcame her and she went over to them once again.

The orgy continued. Missionary position was out, but doggy style was more than possible, and one by one they took her on all fours, spurting into her wet channel again and again. One particularly burly slave even managed to lift her up and impale her on his rod while standing up, so that he could bounce her up and down while burying his head between her colossal chest at the same time. He even found the time and dexterity to slip an erect nipple into his mouth and suck on it - an act that made the former queen throw back her head and come again right there and then. Yet another managed to lift a long leg over his head (Gladia was surprised it was even possible, but her new body kept amazing her at every turn) and thrust into her at an angle that rubbed her just the right way. Still others pushed her down roughly onto the cold stone floor until her giant tits were smashed against its rough surface and then proceeded to hammer her into pleasant oblivion.

Gladia lost track of time and how many men she has serviced. Her world became one of spurting cocks and hungry mouths, and after she had mated with each man in the room, she started with the first again, until even she was exhausted and collapsed in a sweaty, satisfied heap on the dungeon floor. She was so tired that she couldn't keep her eyes open, and so she didn't try, letting exhaustion overcome her slowly but surely.

Before sleep stole over her, the last thought in Gladia's mind was that if this was the life of a slave...then maybe it wasn't that bad of one.

---

The potion had done its work - no one could tell that the dark-haired, tanned, busty and horny slut that seemingly lived to fuck had been in fact the ruler of the kingdom. Her recently discovered voracious appetite for carnal activities gave her quite a reputation in the slave quarters, and through the castle besides. She was safe from the usurper and his guards, and had no worry about being found out or killed. She had food to eat (even if it was a far cry from the luxurious repasts she was used to) and a bed to sleep in (a cold pallet on the floor, but it was better than being dead) and a way to pass the time (though on all fours or her back most of the time)

She observed the changes in her kingdom with dismay. The castle guard had been replaced with Rampillion's soldiers - brutish thugs who pushed and shoved commoners and nobles alike around with equal impunity. The weekly handouts of food to the starving children from the neighboring villages had been stopped completely. While she was making her rounds, there was talk of doing away with most of the old laws and replacing them with...she didn't want to know what.

But she was powerless to do anything. She only hoped that her children were safe.

Meanwhile, she was kept busy by the constant heat between her legs and her daily activities. She was constantly dispatched to beds and quarters around the castle to serve the seemingly insatiably appetites of the other slaves. And the guards as well...she might find their behavior reprehensible in the extreme, but Gladia had to admit that their stiff pricks and hard bodies brought her much pleasure...or was that just the potion again? Word around the castle had it that she was not the only slut at large - there was supposed to be another equally horny one in the other wings - but Gladia was too busy to verify the rumors. Orgies didn't exactly leave one room for conversation, and when she was finished with her work, she was often too exhausted to do anything but sigh in a contented heap on the floor.

Life in the slave quarters was strangely pleasant. Few slaves spoke her language, but they all seemed to share an easy camaderie born of their mutual situation. They ate together, slept together and of course...fucked together. There was no standing on ceremony, no rules and regulations to follow. She wondered if she was how the commonfolk lived, without the need for formality, pomp and circumstances.

Gladia found herself enjoying the company and the food, laughing along with whatever crude jokes she could understand and enjoying the admiring glances of the female slaves and the lust filled ones of the males. Despite the potion's influence, she evinced no desire for other females - during the late nights, she had experimented with a few of them, but she still vastly preferred cock to pussy, and the other slaves that she played with seemed not to mind.

Speaking of cocks...in the weeks that passed, she grew adept at teasing the other male slaves, lightly touching their chests, blinking at them ever so slowly, and of course, swinging her heaving breasts to and fro, delighting in the hypnotic effect it seems to have. They gave as good as they got - licking their lips when she entered the room, and slapping her rounded ass whenever the opportunity presented itself. And then of course, when both parties had had enough of eyeing each other, they would grab her by her wide hips, she would shriek in mock affront, and they would then proceed to fuck her brains out.