The Prince Transformed

The kiss broke and she smiled again, another of her impish smiles. Then utterly without preamble, she spun around and slid his erect member into her in a single practiced motion.

He was so shocked it was a few moments before he could even register what was happening, but when the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes almost rolled back in his head. She had finally done it...they were actually having sex. She was so hot and wet that it took all his self-control not to shoot off another load there and then. As it was, he lasted barely a few seconds before he came deep inside her with what seemed to him like the force of a volcano.

The power of his orgasm actually knocked him out for a while, and went he came to, the first thing he was aware of was his lover bouncing up and down on his amazingly STILL erect member. She turned around in mid-bounce to acknowledge his awoken state and smiled again, still the same impish grin whose playful nature was seemingly at odds with the activity she was engaged in. But then again, she was a study in contrasts—slim yet curvy, graceful and wanton, a vision of desire sculpted in blue and silver.

Being shackled to the wall meant that he could do nothing but watch at she continued to fuck herself back onto his sitting form. Her eager motions made him come in under a minute, but she kept on moving even through his next orgasm—a feat impossible by normal human standards. And somehow, his new body was able to remain hard after coming for the third time in a row...he was adrift in a haze of pleasure, the sensations on his cock, her insides clenching around him, and her long silver hair whipping against his face as she continued her frenzied motions. The unmistakable sounds of fucking filled the room—flesh slapping on wet flesh, only punctuated by her high-pitched squeals and his own incoherent grunts.

He came in under a minute, and then again soon after. She seemed insatiable, content to do nothing but jounce and slam herself down on him. The only difference in her movements was that after a few minutes she turned around so that she could kiss him as they fucked. If he had thought her nipples were hard before, now they were almost painful to touch as she pressed herself against him.

He couldn't take it any longer. With a savage roar, he brought down his hands with all the force he could muster, and the chains that held him to the wall snapped with a loud crack. Pure lust had given him inhuman strength, and the first thing he did was seize his enthusiastic lover and press her down to the floor.

The thought of escape didn't even enter his lust-addled mine—the prince could think of nothing except the willing female in front of him. They were possessed by something older than time, more ancient than even the magics binding them.

As they mated, their fevered motions caused her immense chest to bounce into his view, and he paused in his frenetic fucking to palm both large orbs. Finally he could put his hands on what had been the object of his desire for, and he groped them for all they were worth. They were so large than even his enlarged hands could barely contain them, and they overflowed his sweaty palms easily. He knelt to suck at each dainty nipple and was rewarded for his efforts by hearing her coo into her ears.

He must have come eight times or more, but who was counting? A new position came to mind, and he hoisted her legs above his head and slammed home for all he was worth. Seeing her writhe in delight beneath him—huge tits bouncing, eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy, silver hair flying—he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

They came again and again, mating furiously. Her slim feet drummed on his back, wordlessly urging him on to greater heights of exertion, and he complied, pistoning in and out of her with as much force as he could manage. He groaned and she squealed, his sounds mixing with hers in a cacophony of wordless pleasure. It felt so good to be sheathed in her wet pussy. Weeks of pent up urges exploded out of him again and again in torrents of spunk, and someone he was able to keep going, thrusting even as he spurted into her.

Eventually their mutual desire were sated briefly, and they disengaged for a time, both of them a sweaty mess from their exertions. Her silver hair had become lank and sodden from sweat, but her smile remained as bright as ever. They took about half a minute to catch their breath, but soon desire had them in its grasp again, and without a word, his lover had gotten down on all fours. She reached back to part her pussy lips, gleaming with the sheen of their combined fluids, and presented her full ass to him, no less magnificent than her immense chest.

He didn't need to be asked twice. In seconds he had speared her on his rod again, burying himself up to the hilt, and their bodies once again began their dance of endless pleasure. He reached around to cup her giant breasts in his hands and bit gently at her neck as he pumped into her, palming her tits at the same time. As another orgasm neared, his hips shot forwards, trying to go as deep into her as he possibly could. Her cunt was a hungry mouth, milking him for as much as he could possibly spend. Before long, he had crested his peak again, moaning lustily as she milked another load from his engorged organ.

After the ardor of the first few rounds, they settled into a comfortable rhythm. His thrusts were slower now, and there was even enough time to take a few deep breaths and share a few kisses before they resumed their carnal activities. Her long legs and slim frames proved helpful into getting her into various configurations...he took her on her back, and all the time she continued to squeal and giggle in a way that inflamed him more than her generous proportions.

Not to say that he didn't enjoy those, either. Even as the Crown Prince, with his pick of barmaids and serving girls both, he had never taken a woman with curves as lush as hers before. Magic had granted his erstwhile lover proportions that no human woman had any business having—breasts the size of cantaloupes, high and full and firm, capped with nipples of cobalt blue that only served to set off her skin. Wide, flaring hips and a behind no less plush and full than her front. He smothered himself in her, kissing, licking and sucking each square inch of her body as she whimpered in bliss and squeezed herself around his rigid shaft. He had no idea how she managed control like that—he guessed it was more elfslut magic.

He lost himself in her voluptuous body, her azure skin and soft curves. Her long hair flailed around as they rocked into each other, falling like a sheer curtain around his too-broad shoulders. She even smelled sweet—not the usual odor of sweat that human woman had, but something almost akin to the scent of jasmine.

Somewhere in between what must have been the twentieth to thirtyeth orgasm, he lost consciousness again, drowned in her sweet caresses and even sweeter tunnel. And when he came to she was gone.

* * *

She didn't visit for weeks afterwards, and he was back to the same torture as before. Though he was let out to service the female staff of the castle as usual, his thoughts were only with the strange, beautiful and mysterious girl that had brought him such rapture. He yearned for her, pined for her with an intensity that was even more powerful than his constant horniness—if that was even possible! Even when he had been a lovesick youngster experiencing the first bloom of carnal hunger, he had never desired anything or anything this much.

His unquenched desires began to affect his daily rounds as well, and so his handlers let him visit the other slave girls once he almost torn apart a maid with savage thrusts, and he was glad of the relief they provided. They weren't as comely as his blue-skinned beauty, but they were all attractive in their own way. They had obviously also been transformed—no normal human females had breasts that defied gravity, bulging mounds that begged to be touched, or long legs that seemed to go on forever. Some were dark-skinned, almost ebony, and yet others had hues ranging from emerald green to golden. He noticed that the more exotically colored ones also had the tapering ears and almond eyes of his lover, and he recalled a long-ago conversation with his sister in which Daphnia had told him about the forbidden transformative magic that made a human woman into an elfslut.

There were more than a few elfsluts among them the many, many slave girls that he met and mated with, but none of them was his. Still, they slaked his thirst With their altered bodies and they were the only ones who could match his passions and even sometimes desire more. He even managed to take more than one of them at a time, lapping at the flowing juices of one as she writhed on his tongue, while thrusting deeply into another. He coupled with the other female slaves as well, but somehow it was only the elfsluts who could match his appetite for debased, furious and constant sex.

There was something about them...their lithe yet voluptuous bodies, so slim yet so full in all the right places. Their large eyes and fine lashes. The way they would stare adoringly up at him while their contoured lips were wrapped around his cock. The jiggling of their heavy breasts as they bounced on top of him, and the sound of their moans and screams as they slammed their hungry twats down on his stiff rod—even their voices were different, high and melodious, almost like birdsong. It wasn't all about their womanly charms either... there were other smaller things that he loved about his non-human lovers. The sheen of the light reflected off their glossy skins—in so many different colors! Their dainty yet seductive way of walking that involved taking the smallest of steps at a time but somehow managing to swivel their hips enough to attract the attention of any bypasssers—the innocent yet lascivious way they licked their lips whenever he passed by or when they were cleaning off his warm cum from their huge tits. He tried to give them names but there were just too many of them, and so he found himself adrift in a sea of massive breasts, long, tapered ears, firm asses and hungry, hungry slits.

They all seemed to like him as much as he liked them. They would coo, and snuggle up to him, pressing their curvaceous forms against his hard and muscled one. There was no preamble—what need did they have of them? They were slaves—sex slaves, created to do one thing and one thing only. And so they did, in as many positions as their enhanced bodies would allow. He lost count of how many willing sluts he had taken, and how he did so—on tables, chairs, beds, on floors, standing up, sitting down, with their long legs wrapped around his waist or held high above his head. They cried and moaned in pleasure as they sated their unquenchable appetites with each other.

In his days as a prince (which seemed so far away now!) he would have thought that it was impossible to have too much sex. But now he was glutted by it, surrounded by it, completely and utterly consumed by copulation—not quite the life of a sybarite that he had envisioned while younger. A slave to the demands of his new body and his erect cock, which seemed to have a mind of its own. Each day passed with him fucking human women, and then elfsluts at night—he did not think it possible to have too much sex, but then here he was, living out that reality.

Speaking of the elfsluts...not all of them spoke his language, but from talking to the ones who did (when they could both get in a word edgewise through their hunger for each other) he discovered that whatever magic had turned them into elfsluts had also robbed them of their memories. He didn't know enough about magic to speculate further—his elder sister was the magical one in the family—but whatever the case was, they could only hold a conversation so long before their appetites got the better of them and forced them into frenzied rutting once more.

But still he longed for the return of his nameless nymph. He had more than his fill of lovely women, but somehow his heart had been captured by a sylphlike beauty that he had only exchanged bodily fluids and not even words with. His nights were filled with dreams of her, and he would toss and turn in chains, unable to do anything but pine for her tender caresses. Sometimes he almost wished that she had never come to him in the first place...because now that he had sampled the sweet delights of her body, each restless night was agony and torture both.

* * *

One day, though, a visitor came. Not the one he longed for, but a hooded man dressed in robes of the darkest black. One moment he was dreaming of his unnamed beloved (well, he didn't actually know if he was in love with her or not...) and the next a stranger stood before him.

Long-forgotten soldier senses to the fore, and Perthias sprang to his feet, his hands going reflexively to draw a sword which wasn't there. Who was this person? Another of Rampillion's slaves? Why was he here -

The hooded figure cut off his train of thought with a simple gesture, and the transformed prince had the distinct impression that this was not the first time he (it? she?) had done so. "Patience, prince Perthias. I am not here to harm you. Instead, I require your assistance."

Assistance? With what? How could he possibly assist anything or anyone, trapped and chained like an animal as he was? Perthias narrowed his eyes and told the interloper just that. He had always been told to negotiate from a position of strength, but his current predicament ruled out that option. Better to be as honest as he could. With any luck the stranger might just slip and tell him something of use...he hadn't spent ALL his time in classes dreaming of beautiful women.

"You are mistaken, prince Perthias. You can indeed help me, but not in the way that you think. All I desire is your pledge that when I call for your assistance, you will render it. Rest assured that it will not comprise your values, or mean harm to anyone you care for. In exchange, I will supply you with information about where your sister and mother have been taken, as well as seeing to your release from this prison."

He had sat through enough boring council meetings to know when a carrot was being dangled in front of him. He was also wary...Perthias had the sneaking suspicion that this man knew that a royal of Erecia could no more go back on a promise that water could flow upwards. And he would be lying if he said that he was not concerned for his family, or his kingdom.

But something about the stranger's manner irked him, and his pride, battered and maimed as it was through the last months, came roaring back with a vengeance. They say that the only thing that a desperate man has is pride, and he will cling to that like a beaten dog. So it was with the prince turned slave, and Perthias found himself shaking his head with a fury that surprised even him.

The figure would not be denied, though. Minutes passed, and after a goodly wait, the figure folded its arms and spoke. "What if I told you that I could find the elfslut who you long for?"

So she WAS an elfslut...wait, how did this stranger know of her? The same way he knew that he was the prince of the kingdom, or where his family was, apparently. But this new offer intrigued him a way that the previous one did not. Perthias had his pick of female flesh, if not exactly in the same way as he did when he was still a normal human. But for some reason he still longed for his nocturnal visitor, and the thought of holding her in his arms once more, hearing her giggles and moans and squeals as he thrust deep into her molten insides, affected him more than even the thought of freedom or liberty.

Slowly now. Don't let him see your eagerness. Trying not to betray any emotion, Perthias leaned forwards as much as his chains would allow. "What would you have me do? He said guardedly.

"Nothing, for now. Simply be alert and be ready to respond to my summons."

"And you will find my love for me, and my family, as well as see to my release?"

He felt rather than saw the figure smile. "You drive a hard bargain, prince. But yes, I agree to those terms, as long as you agree to mine."

A few long moments passed, and the prince nodded. In truth, he had asked for all three things because he stood nothing to lose and everything to gain. His desperation granted him courage as well. It all seemed too good to be true, but there was little else he could do at the moment.

And then the mysterious stranger vanished as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Perthias with questions and the familiar pulse of desire. His balls throbbed, letting him know that they hadn't been emptied in almost half a day. He sighed and tried his best to ignore them. Who would it be tomorrow? Another lady-in-waiting with an inattentive husband? A gaggle of chambermaids, ready for their first sexual experience? He had no idea and no way to tell, and it all didn't really matter anyway.

But at the least he had his own elfsluts at the end of the day to look forwards to. Exhausted from their days' activities, nevertheless, when they saw each other it was enough to arouse them into a hearty tangle of limbs, enough for a good two to three orgasms and then after that, to sleep. And then one day, perhaps, to see his elfmaid again, and beyond that...freedom.