The Princess Transformed

She felt herself moisten just looking at him. The poor dear looked like he could use help. And she was just the one to give it to him. Before she knew it she had stolen into the room and approached the masturbating slave.

What did one say in a position like this? "Hello" seemed pat and trite, and...she was distracted from her train of thought by the actions of the man in front of her. How she would like that long, hard thing in her mouth and in her -

"Who are you?" She looked up in surprise. The slave had noticed her. His eyes rove over every inch of her voluptuous body and she felt herself blush at the attention she was receiving.

"Ummm...no one. Just another slave passing by." she found herself replying. "It looked like you could use some help." she finished lamely.

The slave continued to stare at her. "Yes." he said matter-of-factly. "I would like to mate with you."

She blushed again. Even after her many encounters, she was still uncomfortable with the idea of talking about sex. Her upbringing was that of a noble lady. All those lessons on decorum, on proper behavior...useless now. when she was bent over a table, screaming her lungs out as she was fucked roughly, decorum was the further thing from her mind.

Still...the Resistance could use another ally. Or so she told herself as she bent down to wrap her lips around his member. In truth, she just wanted to be fucked. Today had been a slow day, all meetings and discussions - which meant little time for fucking elfsluts. Her slit leaked even more, and she hoped that he wouldn't (or maybe she hoped that he would!) notice it.

Their eyes met and she nodded. Before either of them could say another word she had reached forwards and placed his penis in her mouth. It was hot, almost burning - he must have been really close to coming before she arrived. She laved the member with her tongue, sucking the head back into her throat and biting it ever-so-gently at times.

She looked up at her partner, seeing his eyes roll back in response to her expert ministrations. Over the last few months, she had grown used to the size and shape of men's cocks...each whorl and vein and line. She played him like an instrument, her tongue moving deftly over the smooth surface of the member...and then when he was ready, she leaned forwards to place her bronzed boobs around his erect shaft.

She squeezed the huge mounds together and flicked her tongue over the tip of his head, and then within moments, he had spurted all over her expansive chest. She licked it off slowly...she had grown to like the taste of cum. Whether it was something caused by the spell or an acquired taste, she didn't care, but she loved it anyway.

The slave breathed heavily, coming down from his orgasmic high. He ran a large hand through her shiny blond hair, panting in release. "You are beautiful." he suddenly burst out.

She blinked in surprise. No one had ever called her beautiful before! She blushed again - or at least she thought she was blushing, there was no way to tell. It seemed so strange, they just had met, she had sucked him off, and then he said she was beautiful.

Daphnia didn't know what to do, so she settled for hopping back and spreading her legs slowly, aware of the gaze of the male slave on the puffy lips of her sex. She touched herself lightly, undulating her wide hips, and then, in a sudden fit of naughtiness, flipped herself over to present her rounded behind to him. Being watched turned her on more than she could have imagined.

Within seconds his member had become erect again, and he moved forwards with sudden determination. THe transformed princess felt a thrill run through her. The main act was here. They locked eyes again, and she felt hers roll back in her head as he entered her. Gods, it felt so, so...good!

This was unlike the rough handling and usage she was used to. It was slow and gentle, deliberate and purposeful. As their coupling progressed she realized that as a male sex slave himself, he would have plenty of experience, and it showed - as they rocked together, he paused occasionally to fondle a huge breast, twiddling her nipples with erect fingers. She groaned in need and he captured his mouth with his, their tongues duelling together.

She could tell he was restraining himself. She leaned over to whisper in his ear that it was ok. Slowly he increased his speed and she began to move her hips against his as well.

The transformed princess let herself relax into the slave's measured thrusts. As her orgasm approached she realized that she didn't even know his name. And yet here he was, pumping his huge member deep into her inner folds. Daphnia wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him to go faster, harder, stronger, deeper...and he obliged as best as he was able to, with strong lungues that set her ablaze with passion. She began to scream in fulfillment and raked her nails down his back, but all it did was make him redouble his efforts. After a few minutes, both of them stiffened in their mutual climax, and she sighed in bliss as she felt the pulsing of his cock paint her insides white.

She reached up to bring his head down for a kiss, feeling his muscled chest press against her own. A mixture of her juices and his dripped drop her thighs onto the floor, and its volume made her realize that he had probably been as pent up as she was.

"What's your name?" she whispered into his ear.

"Briva." he whispered back. His voice was low and husky, and Daphnia was amazed to realize that just hearing it made her wet and horny again. It was this godsdamned elfslut body, aroused at the smallest and slightest of things. Either that or...well, maybe she just really liked him? She had no idea. This was all just so new and wonderful to her.

He pulled out of her and she caught herself looking hungrily at his shaft, still erect and slick with their combined fluids. It looked like he hadn't had enough either. Their eyes met and an unspoken message passed between them. Within seconds he had re-entered her and they were rolling and moaning in ecstasy on the cold castle floor once more.

It became a regular thing for them. After both had finished their duties for day, they would meet in the garden, or above the castle, and fuck each others' brains out. Sometimes it was slow and gentle, and at other times fast and furious. It took the edge of the constant sexual frustration each of them experienced, and made her life a lot easier.

She wanted to know more about him - where he came from, why he was here - but he confessed shamefacedly that the working that had given him the body of sex slave had also robbed him of all his memories. That sparked a sudden surge of compassion in her, and she found herself kissing him, and from then on they proceeded to their favority activity together.

One day, as they lay together after an especially long session, she turned to ask him a question.

"Would you be open to joining the resistance?" She felt that she had to do her part for the rebellion. She was the princess, after all.

"The resistance? There is a resistance?" She could sense his hesitation and decided not to push the issue, instead deciding to idly trace patterns on his broad chest.

"No, nothing...I was just talking to myself." Daphnia sighed and nestled herself into his embrace. It felt so good to be here, well-fucked and in the arms of a...friend? She guessed that they were friends. Friends united by common need and desire.

---

As the months passed Daphnia grew more accustomed to her changed body. But nothing could quell the constant heat between her legs. Not the constant fuckings, or the interludes with Briva when she had not been used enough during the day. The itch could be scratched but it would always return. It was something that she grew resigned to, as well as other things besides.

The rapid hardening of her nipples whenever a man so much as passed by. Having to resist the urge to stroke herself at every available opportunity. She got used to never seeing her feet - her new breasts were so large that all she could see when she looked down were twin balloons of bronzed flesh. She had to be aware of them at all times, lest she bump into a stray wall or door and collapse moaning onto the floor.

And walking! Something that was so normal and humdrum was now so different. Her transformed hips and new proportions meant that instead of simply walking in a straight, proper, line as she had been taught, she instead swung her hips in a motion that was geared to tantalize and arouse. She knew the effect that her swaying walk and overdeveloped chest had on men and women alike, and some part of her desired the attention as much as another hated it.

Some of the guards and the councilmen who used her were actually quite attractive. As a princess she had never any time for dalliances, or the whispered words of the chambermaids in the corridors, but now...she found herself growing to appreciate the muscles of the soldiers, the smooth long legs of the maids in waiting, and the rough beards of the ministers. She found Briva the best looking of them all (but then again, like her, he was made to be) but now when she happened across a man who caught her fancy, it was a small matter for her to walk in front of him, to "accidentally" bump her huge breasts against his arms, to smile coquettishly and present her full ass to him - and in a few minutes she would find herself on her back, or on all fours, moaning as she was taken roughly and with complete abandon.

Such was the fate of an elfslut.

---

She continued her meetings with the hooded informant. She was impressed by his professionalism - his gaze was always locked on her eyes and never once strayed to other parts of her anatomy. Maybe he had seen so many elfsluts that one more didn't bother him in the least, whether or not it was a former princess. She didn't know and couldn't bring herself to ask, so she simply relayed all the information she had managed to obtain.

"You've done well, princess." he said one day. "My superiors will be pleased."

"And so when will these...superiors deign to meet me?" she asked acidly. Somehow when she was with this man (?) her old royal air seemed to return.

The informat didn't bat an eye. "When the time is right. Your information has been very helpful so far. We have been able to make great progress."

Daphnia couldn't for the life of her fathom how idle kitchen gossip and tales of weapon-cleaning would be useful..there was some information about troop movements in the barracks, but - she didn't dare to ask.

Instead, she asked the question that was foremost on her mind. "What are the chances of the spell being reversed?"

There was no reply. She didn't know whether to be happy or sad about that.

"Continue with what you are doing. We will be in touch." And with that the figure disappeared.

Daphnia bit her lip and fondled her breasts absently. She hadn't had enough sex today (only twice, barely enough to sate her appetites) and the itch was beginning to worsen slowly. The spell...it was too much to hope for that it could be undone that easily. As a mage herself, she knew how difficult it could be to unwork magic of that caliber.

That was it, then. Just stay the course and continue to gain information, and then hopefully one day the resistance would come through for her. Nothing to do at this point but hope.

Her nether regions tingled with renewed need. It was time for her to go to see Briva again.

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