The Lost Prince Ch. 01

Note: All of the characters in this story are over the age of eighteen. It does not represent any real people or groups. While it does draw inspiration from certain historical events, this is a fantasy. Please look at the story tags. This is a resubmission of a previously published story. As such it has been changed and revised to some extent. My style and skill were in a different place back, and I couldn't help but make some alterations. Hopefully that isn't too jarring. Any errors or omissions are my own. Enjoy.

The cold was deep--sharp. I wasn't shivering though. Not yet. I needed the fresh air more than the inconsistent heat of the camp buildings. It was worth it. The air inside the medical buildings could be stifling. Filled with too many scents that were not pleasant: urine, blood, feces. Strong disinfectants, harsh cleansers, and even the valuable ether when there was no choice but to anesthetize someone. The other nurses and I did our best to keep the facility and the patients clean, but it was a constant struggle. The first time that I smelled gangrene had been enough, and since then I feared that I smelled it all the time even if it wasn't there. At least recently.

I was warm enough in my old wool overcoat. It smelled like an old dog, but that wasn't so bad. Beneath it I wore my simple nurse's uniform, and all of the layers combined made the cold a little more tolerable. For a while. The other women told me that I was much too thin. They were right.

I cautiously looked around out of habit. Anyone watching would just see a thin, young woman with her long brown hair tied up in a bun and her large gray eyes always looking for threats. I didn't want Doctor Gorski to see me. He wouldn't approve. I went around to the back of Building No. 2. The least occupied of our patient facilities. It was mainly used for storage. Still keeping a look out, I slipped my hand into the overcoat and pulled out of the worn pack of cigarettes that I'd been keeping secret from the doctor. I carefully lit one, and took that first tentative puff off of it. I coughed lightly. It was still a new thing to me: smoking. I wasn't sure if I truly liked it yet, but the choice was mine. It had been the other nurses that first gave me one. Vodka was always desirable out in the far-flung countryside, but it was in short supply. The cigarettes, while of poor quality, were there in abundance because of the soldiers. For the first few weeks of my new past time, I relied on the nurses to supply me whenever I joined them. However, Doctor Gorski found out and told them not to give me cigarettes. He would never let me forget that I was different from the others.

I wouldn't be denied though. Being a pretty young nurse had let me make some friends. A young guard named Vladimir for one. I'd tended to him when he broke his ankle. For me: this was an easier thing than some of the other injuries. Risk of infection was low and the young soldier was healthy. He also warranted better care than the prisoners, which made his road to recovery straightforward. Still, Vladimir was very grateful for my efforts. When I mentioned that I missed being able to smoke, he found a way to slip a pack into my overcoat. I was under no illusions. Gorski had warned me about becoming too friendly with the guards. Vladmir might be expecting something else from me later.

The odd thing was that I was secretly looking forward to that.

I'd been in worse situations before. I thought back to how I'd gotten here in the first place. It had been a different world then and I had been a different person. Weak, afraid, and not my real self. It had been deathly cold then as well. As cold as the look in Yuri's eyes.

The look in Yuri's eyes told me that he resisted the urge to throttle me. The large brute was forced to let me ride his horse--or rather to be pulled behind it in a soiled litter. The other one, Pieter, forbade him to strike me.

"He is too weak from the bad blood," Pieter said. "The doctors said a punch or a fall might cause bleeding on the inside, and we can't fix that out here...if at all."

Yuri, with frost clinging to his beastly beard, grunted his bitter acknowledgement.

Pieter touched my leg, bundled with several layers of wool, almost gently. He was a trim man with a very neatly trimmed mustache. He reminded me of some dashing soldiers I had seen meet with my father at an official ceremony for the army.

"Do not fear, young man," he said. "We did not go to all this trouble to let a peasant like Yuri kill you. We might as well of finished you in the basement. We had plenty of bullets."

I said nothing. Bundled up in my woolen cocoon I was focused on staying warm. That shamed me so much. All the rest: all my family was dead. I watched it happen.

Our captors lured my family into cooperation by telling them they were going to be photographed to prove they were still alive. Then they offered a small cot to keep me warm. "Until the photographer arrives," they said.

My parents relented thinking it was for my health. After several awkward minutes went by and more and more thugs arrived, my father knew what would happen. He tried to reason with them. Why would the revolutionaries bother to kill us? They had won. Of course, we were told accusingly of the Army of White that was "murdering" to put my father back on the throne. Despite some hopeful nights when we imagined them coming over the snow-covered hills it ended up being too late to help us. My father told them that our distant family in other nations would happily give them a fortune in gold and jewels in exchange for us.

The leader of the thugs said that our old imperialist manipulations would no longer work on the decent, hard-working people. My father was shot first, trying to put his body between the rest of us and inevitable death. The gun shots went on for several minutes. Despite what Pieter said, they did appear to run out of bullets at some point, and used their bayonets to finish my family off. Smoke hung in that basement for several minutes afterward. Even weeks later being pulled on the litter by Yuri's horse, I could still smell the acrid smoke. I could still smell my family's blood.

I couldn't imagine why they kept me alive. It didn't seem like it would be worth it considering how grave my condition was. And my usual caregivers were gone: my mother, our doctors, and even Father Grigori. How would I be able to survive captivity?

It didn't matter. This was not a world I wanted to be a part of anyway. I tried to sleep for most of our long and shuffling journey. I hoped to die, but my wishes never did seem to come true. Our trip took us to different small towns and villages. It never occurred to me how vast and remote a country my family once ruled. The view from within a palace is a short one. I really didn't know my country or my people.

Eventually, after much hardship we arrived at the camp known as "Number 147": a camp for criminals who needed reeducation before being allowed into the new workers republic. Outside the camp, I saw the pits, and surrounding them were several hundred shell casings from rifles. I wondered how they determined if "reeducation" failed.

Yuri and Pieter carried me into one of the small buildings made from sheet metal and wood. There I was given to Doctor Gorski. The doctor was a tall man with graying black hair and a kind face, yet grim eyes. There was an odd sweet smell about him as he got close to me.

"I know your trip was a hard one, but it's not over. However, your old life is done. Voided. You must understand that."

"What will you do to me?" I thought about the pits.

"The first thing you must learn is deference. You should know what that means from your old life."

"I'm not sure."

"Since you have just arrived, I will be lenient for a time. I am a doctor and one of the leaders of this camp. A position of authority and respect, yes?"

I nodded.

"Good. But it will be more than that. Your new life will be one of service. You are a servant now. Do you understand?"

I nodded again, but I had to ask a question. The doctor--my new doctor allowed me.

"Doctor, my illness won't let me do much, so how can I be a servant?"

Gorski gently moved some of my now longer and dirtier hair out of my eyes.

"The new order is not without mercy. I have been working on a treatment that might work. Will you be brave for me?"

"I wanted to die."

"Dying is for those who cannot be saved. I want to save you."

I wasn't in a position to disagree. I longed for someone else's will to guide me. Thinking about what I could do for myself was too difficult. Obedience became so much easier.

The next several months went by slowly. Doctor Gorski nursed me back into one of the best forms of health I'd ever known. I did nothing that a servant would do though; in fact, I did very little. The doctor even began to continue my education from where my private tutors left off. I liked that very much, but as soon as I was well enough, I began to suffer the injections.

"This is part of your duty," he told me. "Your body is still young, so I'll be able to change it into a healthier state."

The needles were big and he injected me all over. There were also pills, and I was grateful for those over the needles. He said they were vitamins, and there was no reason for me to object, because I was beginning to feel much better--stronger.

Doctor Gorski didn't let me cut my hair. I had been kept well-groomed throughout my life, which meant short and combed hair. The longer it got, I began wondering how my sisters had ever dealt with such a thing. The doctor was very pleased when I finally began gaining weight. My bottom was of particular interest to him. For some reason he wanted to new gained flesh to trend towards it.

As I grew stronger, I began to assist the doctor. Gorski and two others served as the general physicians for hundreds of people. Anything from injuries or illness, and even some surgeries. At first people believed me to just be some orphan young man who'd been put to work, but more and more people believed that I was a girl.

I didn't object for part of my duties included no speaking. The incidents also reminded me of the secret games my sisters would play with me where they dressed me as one of them. A silly game, but when one isn't allowed to play outside one learns to appreciate something new and different. I had even fewer rights at the camp, so why would I fight it? Besides, with the exception of the injections I wasn't abused. There was a very comfortable routine setting in. It was exciting to see so many interesting things. There were however some patients whom I wasn't allowed to meet. The doctor told me it was not yet time. I thought nothing of it.

Then I began noticing the changes in my body. Doctor Gorski said that my condition and inability to keep on weight had stalled my puberty, but now I was healthier so it would happen. Pimples were one thing, but when I started to notice the two modest mounds growing on my chest I panicked.

"Doctor Gorski," I said to him. "There is something very wrong. Men are not supposed to grow breasts."

"Naturally. You are not a man anymore."

"But I am. I was born that way."

He gently touched my shoulder, and guided me to a chair. I didn't fully realize it at the time, but he hadn't been treating me as a man would treat another man in most circumstances.

When he spoke, I couldn't help but find it soothing.

"I wanted to save you, and I have. Your mother and your sisters were carriers of your affliction. Your father's side did not have it. As a young man it affected you horribly. As part of my treatment, we have begun your transformation into a woman."

"But I don't want to be a girl!"

"What are you?"

"A prince."

"No. You are a servant. Did you forget?"

"No," I said meekly. "I am a servant."

"It's for the best. You're not alone in this. We've done it for several like yourself now. You'll be very healthy, and you must understand that there are still some men who would want you dead. This way the old you will be dead and the new you won't have a death sentence hanging over her head."

"'Her'?" I asked.

He nodded.

That's when it really started.

The next several years went on much the same, but I was different. I began wearing girls' clothes and a nurse's uniform whenever I helped the doctor. I had nowhere to go and none but he to turn to. The pit was still there and prisoners were rendered into it. I wondered if my family had been thrown into such a pit, and that did make me feel so guilty. Perhaps we were all meant to die, and so in a way going into the pit would be like going home.

But what if I didn't die after they shot me? I'd seen people brought into the clinic that had been shot and lingered for days in agony. What if that happened and I was left with the rotting bodies or even buried alive? Doctor Gorski was nice enough, but who knew?

I stayed and I began a new life. There were more injections and pills. Then the doctor performed some surgery on my face to ensure the appropriate features. He used pictures of my sisters for inspiration. My hair was eventually made up to look like my sisters: long, brunette and thick. A combination of injections and two surgeries altered the shape of my hips and bottom. The pain was terrible, but the doctor assured me that it would get better.

I had turned twenty sooner than I could've imagined. By that point I was famous within the camp. Men knew of the shy, but attractive young nurse who worked for the doctor. The cute girl with the sad gray eyes. Many of them looked at me in ways that made me feel odd. They also spoke about the doctor and me, and assumed that I serviced him sexually though I didn't.

One day after our shift, the doctor had me remain inside the clinic for a routine examination. I wasn't bashful in front of him. He had made every inch of me. I removed my blouse and skirt. My simple tie-bra held in place a pair of large breasts that I was still not comfortable with. A year before the doctor made another breakthrough that expanded my previously moderate breast growth. They were plump with bright pink nipples. Gorski cupped and felt them while I stood there waiting for his approval.

"You've come a long way," he said. "A young woman like you could want nothing better, Valentina."

My new name had taken some time to get used to. I repeated it to myself often.

"I'm glad you find me healthy, doctor."

Over time my voice had transformed into a young woman's. It wasn't as high as some of the other girls, but no one suspected anything. The doctor moved on to my hips, which he was quite proud of crafting.

"Not exactly birth-giving hips, but sadly you won't ever do that. In the next century perhaps, the technology would be here, but you are amazing."

He had me look at my bottom in the mirror. It was shapely and plump for my thin body.

"Truly amazing," he said, admiring his favorite part of me. Gorski felt me there. "Many of the guards stare at this wonderful ass of yours. Some have begged me for the chance to have you. Do you know that?"

I could only nod.

He lingered with my bottom, and hesitantly teased my hole with his finger. My breath caught in my throat. He had never touched me like that before--not really.

"But what would they do if they knew about this?"

He grabbed my hips and turned me around to look at what had become my biggest secret: I still had my male parts. My penis and testicles were smaller than the ones I'd seen on most of our male patients. Gorski said his treatment had kept them smaller and most of my body hair off.

"You're a woman," he often said to me, and I believed it. I was just a slightly different one.

Gorski nimbly played with my male parts as he spoke. "It is possible to remove these and fashion a proper vagina for you--a mostly functional one anyway. But it would be greatly difficult and very risky. Perhaps you are meant to keep them," he said as he noticed how hard I'd gotten.

He stoked me fully, and his other hand returned to my bottom to find the opening with his finger. After some gentle prodding, Gorski inserted his whole finger slowly. I stifled a cry, and whether it was from the pain of his entrance or the pleasure of his stroking I couldn't tell.

"Do you like this?" he asked--his own breath was getting heavy.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Do you still play with yourself when you're alone?"

I nodded. I had made several attempts to stop, for I knew that it was not something a girl did, but it felt so good to have the release. A special secret thing of my own.

"You are a bad girl, Valentina," he told me. "Bad girls do things like that. Not exactly like you do, but they do it for their men."

Perhaps I should have known this was coming. Things that happened in the camp typically began as rumors. This was just another one. I had learned much from his books and from being a nurse. I'd also spoken to the other women about it. They didn't know my secret, but they talked still. They spoke of sex with their men. Was that to be our arrangement?

I felt a stirring in my loins and knew I was close to the release. The doctor's finger in me only made it more intense. I was beginning to loosen back there and respond more intensely.

"Will you be mine willingly?" he asked. "You will be treated with kindness--with love."

"But I'll still be a servant."

"Yes," he said with some trace of regret. "Some things must be, but other things could be so good. So, will you do it willingly?"

I could have taken the risk. He had become sweet on me over the years. I was far from what I once was. The other women sometimes talked about the good things that came of it. While their men could often dominate them, there were times when some men were gentle and wanted to please them.

"I am a woman," I said.

"Yes."

"Then...I can be yours."

Gorski resumed his gratification of my body. When I was about to explode, he stopped, and I almost yelled at him. However, he urged me to lie down onto one of the larger cots we had. It was not a romantic setting at all. The cot was worn and old, and the smell of ether of sanitary rinse hung in the air.

The doctor kissed my neck. I resisted at first--feeling that it was an assault, but it began to feel so good: his hot breath on my throat and the tingling as it dried in the air. His strong hands found my breasts, and while they often seemed awkward to me--something about how he touched them made my breath catch in my throat. In time I could tell that his own need was becoming frantic. He quickly stood, shed his own clothes, and returned to kissing me. In that moment I saw that he was a fairly lean man with only the slightest trace of a paunch on his strong frame.

I felt his erect member rub against mine as he kissed me. It was much bigger and so rigid against me. I was so nervous back then.

"Doctor," I said between his kisses. "I know how a man makes love to a normal woman, but how can--"

He touched my lips with his finger. His other hand returned to my rear hole. I knew then.

"While you've responded quite well with your lovely ass, this is your first time. We are going to need some help."

Gorski left me breathing heavy and unsatisfied on the bed, and went to his supply cabinet. I knew the container he retrieved. It was a medical lubricant. He spread it on his finger, and then returned it to my hole. The doctor worked them in slowly and spread the cold slippery liquid around. A second finger joined the one I'd come to know, and while I was still tight around them, I was also getting used to it. I was beginning to love it.

"I can't wait to truly feel the heat inside you," he said. "To be inside you."

"Don't you feel it now?"

"It's not the same. When we are truly connected it will be special. I am going to fully make a woman out of you."