This story contains material of a sexual nature. It has explicit descriptions of sex, bondage and non-consensual sex. If you are at all offended by this kind of story, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER! Any characters in this story are the property of Paul K. This story is written for the sole purpose of entertainment and is not written for profit and cannot be transmitted, reproduced or otherwise traded for profit. If you have any comments, want to get in touch, please contact me at PAULK1@HOTMAIL.COM. I will try to answer all mails. Thanks to all the people who sent me their comments as this story was written, your help was much appreciated.
THE DEFEAT OF PRINCE ALTAN
It had been three days since the terrible bloody battle. The Alorian forces had been betrayed, and the warlord had ruthlessly hunted down the last remnants of resistance. Finally, he had succeeded in his goal; he had captured Prince Altan, the leader of the Alorian forces. He ordered that Altan be brought before him to hear his fate. Prince Altan was over 6ft tall, and well built. He had a reputation as a fair leader and a tough fighter. For year, under his leadership, Aloria had resisted the warlord's attacks.
The warlord looked at his captured enemy with pleasure.
"For daring to contest my will, and for raising rebellion against me, I will execute your people. Aloria will be the kingdom of the dead. Everyone will die, and you will be the last, so you can see what your resistance has done." said the Warlord.
Altan knew the Warlord was ruthless, and that he would carry out his threat. He was desperate to think of a way to save his people.
"Its me you want." he shouted, "If you'll let my people live, I'll willingly do whatever you want. My word as a warrior."
"Anything I want? Willingly?" questioned the warrior. He paused, and an evil look came into his eyes.
"I have a suitable punishment in mind for you, but I warn you, if you back out I will carry out my threat."
"If you let them live, and treat them well, I'll accept whatever punishment you want, no matter how terrible. I swear by my honour as a warrior" replied Prince Altan. He realised that he would probably be forced to fight for the Warlord, but his people came first.
"Then so be it," laughed the Warlord. "Anything I want. But if you withdraw from your oath, I shall carry out the extermination, remember that!"
To Altan's surprise, the Warlord nodded to the Sorcerer, who began to chant words of magic.
This was not what he had expected. He began to speak, to demand that the Warlord explain what the Wizard was doing, but he suddenly found that he was unable to form any words. For a brief moment he was confused, but then he felt his body begin to change. He tried to speak, but all he could do was open his mouth in a soundless cry. He slumped to his knees, as all of his strength seemed to drain out of his body. He lifted a hand, and watched almost fascinated, as the tanned and muscled hand shrank, and became white, slender and delicate. He could feel his facial features shifting and changing. His thick beard seemed to be sucked back into his face, only to emerge from his head, as waves of straight silken blonde hair that cascaded over his shoulders.
He gasped for breath, as his ribs were crushed together, forming a slim waist. Before his eyes, he saw two large lumps form under his shirt, and he could feel his flesh expanding to form two large shapely breasts that slowly drooped, hanging heavily on his chest. He was almost sick as an internal wrench told him that his insides had just transformed themselves. He felt his manhood begin to shrink, and finally found his voice in a high pitched, feminine scream, but it was too late. He felt his manhood disappear into his body, and it was replaced by a strange nothingness. His mind shrank from what had just happened to him.
Before he could recover, the Warlord roughly pulled him to his feet. Helplessly, he felt his trousers, that were now much too large for his slim waist, slip off his hips. Automatically, he started to struggle but was horrified by the lack of strength in his new body. He was easily mastered by the warrior, who examined his new body closely.
"Not bad at all" he said lecherously, as he slowly pushed a hand up Altan's shirt to his new breasts. Casually he squeezed them, enjoying his ability to force the struggling girl to his will.
"What have you done?" gasped Altan, his new feminine voice betraying his shock.
The Warlord smiled evilly. "Remember," he whispered. "You agreed, willingly you said."
The shock of realisation suddenly hit Altan, and he ceased his struggles, staring at the Warlord in fear. The Warlord smiled at the look of horror in the beautiful female face.
"No," he gasped, "I never agreed to that, I never, I mean wouldn't, I couldn't."
"Oh but you can, and you will," said the warrior quietly. "You agreed, willing and compliant, whatever I want. Of course you could change your mind, but then...", he left the threat hanging, knowing Altan would have to agree to his demands, or face the slaughter of his people.
For a moment Altan stared at him. He couldn't possibly be serious, he must understand. But he knew instinctively that the Warlord was serious, and he would carry out his threats. There must be some other way, he couldn't live as a woman. He was a warrior, not a lady. He desperately tried to think of a way out, but he knew as he looked into the Warlord's eyes, that there was none. Slowly his pretty green eyes dropped in defeat.
"I think you'll enjoy being a women," mocked the Warlord. "Lovely dresses, skirts and corsets for you to wear, and petticoats to embroider. Of course, you will have to be demure and obedient. And make yourself pretty for your master."
The warrior smiled, and gestured for the two female attendants to approach.
Get the Princess dressed to be presented at the ceremony" he ordered mockingly. "And," he said lifting her face by the chin to look into her horrified eyes, "I want her to look every inch the Princess she is."
Stunned by what had happened, he was taken unresisting to a room where they stripped off his remaining rough warrior leathers, and began to bathe him in a bath of perfumed water.
What had he done? He had expected to be forced to fight in the Warlord armies. This fate was worse than anything he could possibly imagine. Without knowing, he had voluntarily agreed to be changed into a female, a willing and compliant female. For a moment, the horror of his situation made him consider renouncing his oath, but the plight of his people and his sacred warrior's oath made him realise that he had to continue. No one had ever broken the warrior's oath. He had agreed, he had no choice, he would have to keep his word. He could feel a fear inside him that he had never known before.
They made him lie naked on a stone slab whilst they rubbed aromatic oils into his soft skin. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the delicate touch of the harem girl's soft fingers as they rubbed to aromatic oils into his luscious new breasts.
When they had finished bathing and perfuming his body, they led him into a room full of skirts, dresses and other female clothes; jewellery and makeup lined the dressing tables.
He hesitated, realising to his dismay that they were going to make him dress in feminine clothes.
"Now I don't expect that we will have any trouble, I expect you to be a good girl," said the lady in charge, taking him firmly by the wrist.
For a moment he resisted, but knowing that he had no choice, Altan shook his head his surrender.
"Well, say it then", she demanded.
"I will be good", said Altan, knowing that he had to obey.
"Say it properly," she demanded.
"I will be a good girl" whispered Altan, his face burning with shame and humiliation.
"Good. Well then, since you are going to be a good girl, let's get you dressed in something pretty and feminine" smiled the lady with satisfaction.
In a moment of pure shame, he meekly obeyed their orders, and slowly pulled a pair of frilly pink silk and lace panties up his long slender legs. The silk was absolutely smooth, as he pulled the skimpy knickers over his curved hips. For a moment he felt the strangeness of having nothing between his legs, the lacy panties ran smoothly over his new maidenhood, the silky material causing him a certain involuntary pleasure as it rubbed him.
Then he picked up the bra, and slowly put it on. He found the feeling of the bra as it lifted his sensitive feminine breasts, and held them upright, and the feeling of the lacy straps over his shoulders quite unsettling. But he also found it a relief, as he slipped his new breasts smoothly into the lacy silk cup, to have the weight of his large breasts supported. It was a totally feminine item of clothing, he had never worn anything like it before. He could feel the silky material holding his breasts, and the lace edging running sensuously over his skin.
The ladies then gave him a lacy suspender belt, which he slowly put on. He took the gossamer stockings, and slowly drew the silky sheer material up his smooth white legs, connecting them to the lacy straps hanging down his legs. The stockings felt strange on his long slender legs, a sensual feeling that he had never experienced before. His whole body seemed to be covered in lacy silk straps, running over his shoulders and legs, restricting and constraining him. Finally the women made him to wear a pair of pretty, elbow length, pink silk gloves. The thought of wearing the female clothes was utterly humiliating, he was a warrior, used to rough leathers and armour, but now he was clad in soft frilly feminine lingerie.
Dressed in the sensual feminine underwear, he was made to sit at the dressing table, and have make up applied to his pretty face. He flushed with embarrassment, as the two ladies applied the cosmetics. It was so humiliating to sit here scantily clad in feminine lingerie. He glanced down, and saw his luscious new breasts covered by the lacy silk of his bra. He could feel them hanging heavily in the pink silken cup, their weight on the lacy straps over his shoulders. The ladies applied foundation, and began to apply lipstick to his already full round lips. He was forced to cooperate by pursing and pouting his lips. He could feel the soft brush moving slowly over his lips, as they slowly painted them a delicate pink. When they were finished with his lips, they used mascara and eye shadow on his long lashed eyes. As he sat there with his eyes closed, he could feel the soft silk of his suspenders and stockings encircling his legs. Finally the ladies applied blusher to his pretty high cheeks, giving him a delicate feminine blush.
Enjoying her dominance, the lady in charge made him face a long mirror as she dressed him in a slinky, full-length white and pink silk dress that amply displayed his feminine form. He was forced to watch, helplessly, as they slowly clad him in a pretty feminine dress.
He stepped into the dress, and they slowly drew it up his slender body. He could feel the silky material of the tight dress as they drew it slowly over his feminine hips. He could feel the tightness of the silken skirt as it ran over his stockinged legs.
The dress was gathered tightly to the waist, but then billowed out, with a large bustle. A broad pink ribbon was tied around his slim waist and made into a pretty bow that hung down the back of the lovely dress. The dress ran over the shoulders, and was trimmed with lace and a pink bow as it dipped low over his breasts. The bodice pulled his breasts together, and displayed a large cleavage. It made his breasts heave when he took a breath. The sleeves came tightly to his elbows, but then flared out with pretty white lace. Underneath the large skirt, there was a tight full-length satin petticoat that restricted the movement of his legs, forcing him to take short little feminine steps, and to walk with a feminine sway. It ran so tight against his legs, that every tiny movement caused a silky restrictive feeling up his legs. He could feel the silken stockings rubbing together, the lacy tops and suspenders tight against his thighs. The tightness of the underskirt and the lacy straps covering his body made him feel helpless, almost as if he had been tied up.
The silken material of the feminine clothes actually felt strangely erotic on his curved female form, especially the underwear. He was dismayed to find himself getting quite aroused at the feel of the silken lingerie, and the full feminine skirt.
He found the bodice and the satin petticoat of the tight dress confining. It was so tight that it made him feel faint and breathless, and a delicate blush adorned his cheeks. He knew that this was planned to make him seem to be fragile and helpless. He could feel the silk of the bodice tight against his skin, rubbing silkily against his curved body as he moved. He could not believe he was dressing in women's clothes, and allowing himself to be prepared. Inwardly he raged at the indignity of this humiliation, but he knew that he had no choice, he had agreed, and would have to obey and get used to the restrictive sensual feel of feminine clothes. He knew that if the Warlord had his way, he would be wearing skirts and dresses for the rest of his life.
Just when he thought they were finished, the ladies adorned him in items of jewellery, long dangling earrings, rings and bracelets. They placed a delicate necklace around his pretty white neck, but to Altan it felt as heavy as Iron chains. They brushed his long straight blonde hair, and adorned it with dainty combs and a pink silk ribbon tied into a bow.
To make the humiliation worse, the women insisted that he learn behave as a lady, to learn how to walk and curtsey, as a true lady should. They enjoyed having Altan, the great enemy warrior, at their mercy, forcing him to wear women's clothes. They stood and watched as they made Altan, his face flushing with shame, practice a feminine curtsey, until he did it correctly, his delicate gloved hands lifting his beautiful silky dress as he slowly dipped, keeping his eyes demurely downcast. When he saw himself in a mirror, he was the image of a beautiful Imperial Princess. It was a very strange feeling to be forced to wear these clothes. He had always worn whatever he had wished, but now he knew the indignity of being female, and being forced to dress to please someone else.
The final humiliation was a wispy silken veil to cover his face. He realised that as a woman, he must obey the rules governing females. He must be timid, docile and ladylike, he must do whatever men required of him. Gone were the days when his voice would be heeded, now he would have no say, merely expected to keep quiet, and look pretty. As a man he had always thought that females should be soft, gentle and submissive, knowing their place. Slowly he fastened the veil in place, the very act destroying his determination to resist. When satisfied, the ladies took him to the Warlord.
When he had been captured, Altan had expected to be brought in chains before the Warlord, but he had never in his worst nightmares thought that he would be wearing the confining silky clothes of an Imperial Princess. He tried to keep his face impassive as he was led between the leering wolf whistling ranks of soldiers. He was determined not to show his shame and humiliation, but he was sure that his pretty new face was betraying his fear. The silk of his dress whispered and rubbed against the sheer stockings, and swirled sensually around his legs causing an erotic sensation inside him. Altan had never believed that such a humiliation was possible. One of the soldiers shouted a lurid comment about his voluptuous new body, whilst another managed to slap his bottom, making him jump with surprise.
Finally he arrived in front of the Warlord, where he was made to curtsey deeply, sinking into the billowing folds of his pink dress, to show his subjugation. His face blushing prettily with shame, he waited with his eyes down as he had been taught. The Warlord made him wait for a few humiliating moments, relishing in his enemy's utter defeat and humiliation. He wanted Altan to realise that he was helplessly female, before allowing him to rise.
Eventually, the warrior raised Altan up and nodded approvingly at his feminine posture, before taking Altan's wrist, and fastening on a beautiful gold bracelet. Altan could feel that the bracelet was magical, and guessed would stop him from ever attempting to harm the Warlord. He took Altan's hand, and gently kissed it, forcing him to adopt a feminine pose, enjoying the look of hate from his silk clad enemy. He then gestured for Altan to give a small feminine twirl to show off his feminine body and clothes to the audience. For a moment Altan wished he could kill the Warlord for making him suffer like this, but knowing that he had to obey, he obediently did as his master ordered. He felt his dress swirl out as he turned, before falling back to whisper and sigh silkily against his legs.
Finally the warrior drew him into close embrace, and to the cheers of his men, forced a passionate kiss on Altan's softly painted lips. Instinctively Altan started to struggle, but he was helpless, and was quickly forced to submit to the humiliation, his soft painted lips, and silk clad body pressed against the warrior. He soon realised that his new body was very petite, and he was forced to tilt his head backward in a most degradingly feminine way. He had been used to towering over everyone, but now he was tiny, a dainty, fragile plaything for the Warlord. The soldiers cheered, enjoying the sight of their enemy's humiliation.
Finally the Warlord released him, and ordered him to read out a statement to the assembly, confirming that he had voluntarily agreed to be changed into a female, and that he wanted to live as the Warlord's concubine.
He knew that such a statement would destroy his people's will to resist, their valiant leader willingly serving their enemies lustful desires as a female. He realised however that if he refused, they would all die horrible deaths, surely this was better.
As the assembly ended, the Warlord announced to the cheers of the warriors, that he would await the Princess in his bedroom, where she could demonstrate her full compliance.
Altan knew what the man would demand, he would force him to have sex, to demonstrate that he would live as the warrior's concubine. For a moment, sheer horror made him consider refusing, but he knew that if he failed to please the Warlord, he would consider his word broken, and thousands would die. He had no choice, he would have to do as his master ordered, to dress and behave as a female.
He was taken to another room, where he was expecting to be given something to wear. But to his shame, the harem girls made him pick an item of lingerie. His face burning with shame, he grabbed the first item that came to hand, a black lacy basque. The harem girls stripped off his gown, and then dressed him in the seductive black silk basque and elbow length black silk gloves. He tried not to think about what he was about to do, as they touched up the make up on his face.
The two ladies relished watching Altan being forced to pick lingerie to wear. They mocked him, and asked him what it had been like to be a mighty warrior. They took great pleasure in dressing him up in the lingerie, and delighted in telling him how pretty and feminine he looked, and how the Warlord would enjoy him. The women took a long time over his hair and makeup, they wanted him to experience fully what it was to be a female. They knew that the Warlord would want him to be perfumed and pretty, wearing the most luxurious silken lingerie, and that he dared not refuse. He tried to remind himself that he was a noble warrior, who had sworn to give his life to protect his people, surely this was no different?
When the ladies had finished, they made him examine himself in the mirror. He could saw a pretty young girl with a perfect body, dressed in sensual lingerie. It was so humiliating to be so helpless, to be forced not, only to endure this humiliation, but to cooperate.
The ladies then escorted him to the Warlord's room. He nervously entered the Warlord's room, to see the Warlord reclining on a large bed, awaiting him. He felt very naked and defenceless in the thin lacy basque, he wanted to cover himself, to hide his body from the man.
The warrior beckoned him closer, and he slowly crossed the room. He could feel the straps running over his body, the lacy suspenders tight against the smooth skin of his legs, and the delicate straps of his black lace and silk basque. He could feel the cool silk of the basque rippling over his body, and holding his pert breasts upright, supporting them in a cup of sensuous silk. As he walked, the sheer silken stockings shimmered sensually over his legs, the lacy tops rubbing the soft skin inside his thigh. He could feel himself blushing at the shame of appearing before the Warlord in feminine lingerie.
He took a deep breath, and slowly crawled up the bed to the recumbent warrior, silk stockings rubbing on his legs, his body covered in seductive feminine lingerie. He braced himself for what the warrior might do, knowing that the survival of his people depended on him. The Warlord smiled at his victory and lay back, gesturing toward his manhood to his helpless victim.
Knowing that if he paused, he wouldn't be able to continue, he reached up with his elbow length silk gloves, and began to undo the Warlord's trousers. A soft sigh of victory came from the warrior, and a large bulge began to form. Hating himself, Altan slipped a hand down into the man's trousers, and gently drew out the erect organ. Blushing with shame, he slowly began to caress it, running his long silky fingers up and down, lingering around the tip. The organ grew further, and the man began to slowly move. The shame of his plight was overwhelming, this was not fair, he was a man. How could he be expected to wear feminine lingerie, and to behave as a maiden? As he knelt astride the man, clad in a frilly silk and lace basque, caressing his manhood, the full horror of the situation crashed onto him.
The warrior gestured casually, and knowing and dreading what the Warlord expected him to do, Altan slowly moved his head down. He paused for a moment, knowing that if he did this, then he was accepting his utter defeat. For a moment he wavered, but then he slowly kissed the man's shaft, his tongue licking the tip. He could not believe that he was doing this. He was totally submitting to his enemy, acting as a female, caressing his manhood with his tongue. It was humiliating to be forced to do this, but he had no choice, if he refused, then everyone he knew would die. Slowly he accepted the warrior's manhood into his mouth, his long blonde hair falling from his shoulders onto the man's loins. He felt the shaft pass slowly over his soft painted lips, the feel and taste of make-up quickly replaced by the taste of the man's organ. His tongue began to slowly move over the tip of the fighter's manhood. He could taste the man's organ, and could feel it moving in his mouth. His face was burning with shame as the Fighters hands moved into the rich hair that fell over him, running his fingers through it and Altan's dangling earrings, and moving the girl's head up and down his shaft, controlling and dominating her.
Altan knew he was being forced to perform the ultimate act of humiliating submission of the female to the male; kneeling in silken lingerie before the Warlord, and worshipping at his manhood. Nothing could possibly be more humiliating. No other man had ever suffered this kind of defeat, yet he had no choice, but to continue if he wanted to save his people. He could feel the sensuous silk lingerie, taut over his feminine form as he caressed the tip of the huge shaft with his tongue, moving slowly up and down.
Unable to continue with his mouth, Altan moved up and knelt astride the warrior, so that the man's shaft was directly between Altan's stockinged legs. Gently he continued to stroke the man with his silky gloved fingers, trying to guess what he liked. Continuing to caress his manhood, Altan wantonly began to rub the shaft between his own open legs, gyrating his hips along it, pretending that he was burning for the man to take him. He knew that he had to behave as a female, and hoped against hope that the warrior would not want more.
Altan gritted his teeth, and blushed with humiliation as the warrior slowly moved his rough hands up and down Altan's basque covered body, rubbing the silky, sensual material against his curved body, lingering at the lacy suspenders and stockings, humiliating, and forcing Altan to remember what he was wearing. The feeling of the warrior's strong masculine hands on his soft supple body was terrible, it made him feel utterly helpless, and it forced him to acknowledge, as they slowly explored him, that he wore a woman's body.
Altan forced himself to smile defiantly, as the warrior's hands moved up to caress his ample breasts through the silk. He was determined not to show the Warlord the depths of his horror. Slowly the man rubbed the silk of the basque over his breasts, moving around them, outlining their pert feminine shape to his helpless victim. The man's hands felt strong and rough as they slipped inside the lingerie. Altan's shapely new breasts fell heavily into the man's hands, and they were supported and gently squeezed. The warrior cupped and lifted his heavy breasts, enjoying their pert feminine shape.
It was a strange feeling to have large feminine breasts, they were very sensitive and erogenous, much more so than he had expected. The warrior slowly massaged his breasts inside the sensual feminine lingerie. It was a very foreign and erotic feeling to have his breasts lying in the man's hands, he felt as if he was completely in the man's power, absolutely helpless. They were feelings that he had never experienced as a male. He found it difficult to cope with the strange feminine appetites that flooded through him. He desperately wanted to stop the warrior, but he knew that if he did anything to annoy the Warlord, his people would pay dearly. He realised the helplessness of being a female, he was forced to watch powerless, as the man's hand slowly squeezed his new breasts, making his nipples grow until they stood out sharply, the female body betraying him by responding to the man's touch. Altan closed his eyes, and continued to caress the manhood, as the warrior began to play with his erect nipples, squeezing and caressing through the silk covered skin.
The man smiled and took Altan's petite feminine hands, and forced him to feel the silk and lace covered breasts, forcing him to recognise his own female form and his delicate feminine lingerie. His new feminine breasts were soft and sumptuous, and covered in the smoothest silk lingerie. Utterly humiliated, his fingers slowly moved over the lace that ran over the top of his breasts.
He was caressing his own breasts, when the warrior began to fondle him between the legs. The hand slid slowly inside Altan's silken panties, gently stroking the soft hair. It took all of Altan's will not to scream as the warrior teasingly began to run a finger along the wetness of his new maidenhood, watching him to see his reaction. The man's other hand, slowly caressed the skin inside Altan's thigh, teasingly rubbing the lacy strap of the suspenders against his leg. Altan felt himself trembling, and he tried desperately to distract the man with shameless, passionate kisses. But slowly, one finger parted his lips, and moved inside him, forcing a horrified gasp out of the feminine body.
Altan shuddered as his mind exploded with the purely feminine feeling of having someone inside him. This can't be happening he thought hysterically. He could feel the man's hand, hard between his legs. The man's finger moved slowly inside him, caressing as it slowly explored the ridges and folds inside the girl, experimenting to find the most sensitive areas. As a man, this could never have happened to him, but now he was female he was forced to endure the humiliation. He had to do this he told himself, thousands of lives depended on him, but he was ashamed that he could not stop himself making soft feminine gasps as the warrior touched him. He could see the Warlord smiling, watching his reaction. He knew that every noise he made gave the Warlord pleasure. Altan closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that this was not happening, but he could not ignore the gentle, relentless touch of the warrior inside him, forcing him to accept his new maidenhood.
The Warlord knew how to affect the female body, and he slowly began to move his finger over the small nub. Altan was stunned by the level of feeling it caused, nothing had prepared him for this. The warrior continued fondling him, until Altan was helplessly writhing and squirming on the end of the man's finger, his breath coming in moans and ragged gasps, unable to maintain control over his rebellious female body. He hated that the warrior could do this to him, to violate him in such a way, to force him to experience such terrible feminine rapture.
As the feelings grew, he closed his eyes, and threw his head back. He could feel his long delicate earrings tapping against his attractive white neck. His long blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, and ran down his back, covering the tiny buttons of his silky lace basque. He could feel the warriors other hand caressing his breast, and the whispered voice mocking him. Every feeling from his body was feminine, overwhelming his mind.
The warrior enjoyed watching his former enemy's lithe silk clad feminine form writhe against his hand, unable to resist, forced to experience utterly feminine bliss.
Suddenly Altan felt the warrior draw his frilly panties down over his legs, a soft rasp of black silk and lace over soft white skin, exposing the triangle of velvety hair. He whimpered softly, he felt helpless, unable to resist, realising that the moment of ultimate defeat had come. The warrior lifted him slightly by his curved hips, and then lowered him onto the huge erect shaft. He could feel himself growing inside to take the man, as the organ touched him.
He felt the huge head of the organ as the warrior moved it gently against the wetness of his maidenhood. His feminine lips were incredibly sensitive, and he shivered at the alien erotic feelings. For a moment the Warlord held him there, moving him poised above the shaft, caressing his cleft with the head, enjoying this moment of ultimate victory. Then slowly he lowered Altan, gently opening the girl's lips. Altan moaned as his lips were teasingly parted by the head of the man's shaft. He felt himself opened by the huge organ, his maidenhood pulsating, as the warrior moved slowly inside him.
Altan felt the organ move up inside him, penetrating him. The shaft moved, thrusting over his tender lips. It seemed endless, rasping over his maidenhood, filling him completely. It was a terrible feeling of being totally dominated as the warrior penetrated him, thrusting the shaft deep inside the helpless girl.
"Ohhh," gasped Altan, unable to suppress the cry as the warrior pushed inside. The man felt so enormous inside him, opening him fully. He could feel the shaft deep inside him, moving slowly over his sensitive lips, penetrating to his innermost sanctum. He could feel it deep inside, filling him, rubbing against sensitive spots, making him gasp with unwelcome ecstasy. He felt skewered by the man's enormous shaft.
Part of his will broke as the Warlord took him, thrusting hard inside, penetrating him deeply, and violating his body. It was a moment of pure conquest and shame, he was utterly defeated in a way no other man had ever been. He was being raped, it was the ultimate defeat, something that could only happen to a woman. He felt utterly defenceless, realising that this was something that was going to happen to him for the rest of his life. The Warlord began to move, thrusting slowly at first, but then moving faster, each thrust forcing Altan to accept his destiny as a female. He could feel the man unbelievably deep inside him, filling him, and opening places and feelings inside that no man should ever have to experience. He could feel the shaft as it ran over his lips, and moved up inside, but all he could do was make soft feminine gasps and whimpers, as his breath was stolen. He knelt astride the man, his mind utterly numb from the sensual feelings. He could feel the man's hands holding him possessively on his buttocks, moving him over the shaft, and squeezing passionately. He could feel the man's hands holding him through the lacy silk of the basque, and the eroticism of his sheer lacy stockings and suspenders enveloping his legs. He was forced to admit the full horror of his situation; that he was a female, was wearing feminine clothes and was being ravished by a man. As a female, he belonged to the Warlord, and was expected to do anything he asked.
"Yes," he heard the Warlord whisper. "How does it feel? You are mine, I can do this to you whenever I choose. You're just a female. Give me pleasure whore, and I might reward you."
Altan flushed with shame, and tried to turn away. But he was seized, and a kiss was forced on his helpless lips. The man was too strong to resist, and he was compelled to accept the man's kisses, the man's tongue penetrating his mouth, as the organ penetrated his maidenhood. The warrior seemed to be all over him, his organ and tongue penetrating, his hands caressing and fondling. He gasped at the violating penetrations unable to fully believe what was happening to him.
He had not realised what he had sworn. He had never believed that this was possible. He knew that this was the only thing that could possibly break his will and spirit. As a man he had been safe in the knowledge that he was his own master, and his body was his own, but now he had a female body, he was vulnerable. He could have resisted torture, but having someone inside him was like nothing he had ever known as a man, it destroyed his will and made him feel like the terrified girl whose body he now wore. His voluptuous body tingled with feminine feelings, though he felt utterly horrified by having his body violated by his enemy. He knelt astride the warrior, the manhood deep inside him, his body covered by black lacy silk. He could feel the man's hands moving over the silky stockings, rubbing the inside of his thigh. The warrior pushed him down on the shaft, making him cry out helplessly. He felt a terrible titillation as he was penetrated and opened by the erect organ. He moved slightly, feeling the organ caress his tender maidenhood, knowing helplessly the full sensuality of being a female.
The Warlord smiled as he saw the look of anguish on his enemy's face. This was the ultimate defeat! Altan was completely helpless and humiliated, utterly emasculated. He would force Altan, the great warrior to live as a female doomed to wait on his every sexual wish. Altan would be compelled to make himself as feminine and seductive as possible, knowing his entire country depended on it. How terrible it would be, to every day have to dress himself women's silken clothing, forced to wear luxurious feminine lingerie and tight, slinky dresses. Every day, to have to attempt to please his worst enemy by behaving as a female, and obeying his every sexual desire.
The Warlord found the thought of raping Altan, making him moan with female bliss, very erotic. His throbbing shaft pushed deep inside the girl, causing her to cry out. He moved slowly inside her, exploring her, knowing how humiliating this must be. He slowly pulled the thin straps of the basque down over Altan's shoulders, exposing the firm ripe breasts. Luxuriating in his victory, and knowing Altan had to do anything he asked, he took the girls delicate hands, and made her run them through her own long blonde hair, whilst he took a breast in each hand, and continued to thrust inside Altan's silky legs. His sheer dominance over the helpless Altan aroused him like nothing had ever before. The thought of Altan spending the rest of his life as his female sex slave was very arousing.
Altan's hands ran through his silken long blonde hair, utterly unresisting, his breasts open and erect for the man, his maidenhood fully penetrated. The terrible depth of feelings coming from his body shattered his will. The man highlighting fully his feminine form, completely dominating the girl. He gasped again as the man pushed inside him, unable to control himself, the shaft pulsing and throbbing inside him, tickling him, raping him. He raised up and then thrust down again, feeling it slip smoothly inside him, rasping over his lips, sending a quiver through him. He was horrified at the level of feeling it caused. The feelings that swept over him were far more powerful than any he had experienced as a man. The man continued to hold his large breasts, slowly fondling him, his skilled hands controlling him, manipulating, and causing his nipples to grow and flower. There was no way he could pretend to himself now, that he was still a man. He was kneeling astride his enemy, dressed in a lacy silk basque, acting like a harem pleasure slave. He was a helpless, facing a life where he was forced to behave as a maiden, eagerly fulfilling his master's sensual desires.
He realised that this was the ultimate shameful defeat that normally only female experienced, their bodies violated and raped. He would spend the rest of his life as a female, being a sex slave to the warrior, forced to wear whatever silky, confining and delicate female clothes he was ordered to. He knew that he would be forced to have sex and become pregnant, bearing children for his master and husband. He knew that his enemy would enjoy humiliating him, and would make his entire life as feminine as possible. His life would be comfortable, and he would be treated well, but he would always be a female, doomed to spend his life wearing silken lingerie, skirts and dresses, and serving his master's every lustful whim.
Cowed, he slumped forward, his ripe female breasts hanging invitingly over the warrior, who eagerly began to suck on them, nibbling Altan's erect sensitive nipples. Altan was shocked to find the erotic feeling this caused inside of him.
With a sudden movement, the Warlord rolled him onto his back, and ordered Altan to spread his legs. Utterly humiliated, Altan was forced to obey, opening his legs, allowing the man inside, voluntarily allowing the man to ravish him.
It was terrible lying on his back with his legs spread wide open, he felt totally vulnerable. It was a uniquely feminine position, completely submitting to the male's dominance. The man moved up to place his manhood between Altan's legs, pushing them further open, and quickly thrusting inside him. Altan gasped as the man mounted him, the shaft penetrating him deeply. Dominated, Altan didn't dare attempt to stop the warrior. He felt the shaft move over his lips, pushing inside; passions shot through his body, he was experiencing utterly female desires. Altan wrapped his silk stocking legs around the man, trying to block out the feelings, but the feeling of his legs encased in the sheerest, silkiest stockings was an erotic feeling more than he could bear. Everything he did seemed to highlight his femininity. Altan realised how vulnerable women felt; with his legs spread wide open for the man, he was allowing him access to the females most private area.
He could feel the weight of the Warlord on top of him, holding him down as he moved between his silky legs. He could feel the full feminine sensations of having a man's weight on top of him, and a masculine body between his legs, rubbing against his suspenders, the muscles rippling, as the male rode him.
Altan looked up and saw mirrors on the ceiling. He could see himself lying helpless on his back, arms above his head, wearing the seductive black lacy silk basque and silky stockings, his legs apart, as the man continued to rhythmically thrust deep between his legs, his hands caressing Altan's gorgeous breasts. He felt a sudden thrill of titillation shoot through his body as he watched the erotic scene. He could not hide the fact from himself that the feminine sexual feelings coming from his new body were overwhelming his will. He could feel the sensual feminine clothes encasing his body and he gasped as the man pushed hard inside him forcing his legs open further. He could see the girl in the mirror, moaning with ecstasy as the man thrust, her arms outstretched, gripping the bed. The man lent over and kissed the unresisting moist, painted lips, enjoying the full delights of the young girl's flawless body.
The humiliation of being raped by his ultimate enemy made him close his eyes with shame. What had he done? How could he allow this to happen to him? Altan could not believe what he had agreed to. He could feel the man's hot breath as his soft painted lips, and delicate neck were kissed. The shaft continued to thrust up inside him, exploring his female form, massaging his cleft, and forcing moans of unwilling rapture from his soft feminine lips. He his maidenhood felt incredible, the feeling making him squirm and writhe against the man. He realised that the Warlord would keep him like this for the rest of his life, ravishing his body, forcing him to live the soft, gentle life of a woman. He was afraid that after this he would be unable to resist any longer, he would become a compliant slave, his female body eagerly serving the warrior.
Horrified with this thought, he tried to struggle, to close his legs. He knew he had to stop this or be lost forever. He could not suffer this, not even to save his people. He tried to close his legs, but he was unable to move the man wedged between his silky stockinged legs. The warrior reached up and grabbed Altan's delicate wrists, easily pinning his weak feminine arms to the bed with one hand, physically dominating the girl. Altan began to panic, he had to stop this. He struggled wildly, desperately trying with all his strength to break free, but it was hopeless. It was utterly humiliating to be so totally helpless, unable to prevent the man from doing this to him, forcing him to experience these feelings. The man was much stronger, and could do anything he wanted, and Altan was unable to stop him. Altan could feel female panic inside him, he now realised the helplessness of being female, unable to stop the man.
The Warlord continued to thrust easily inside Altan's legs, rubbing against the silky legs, enjoying the girl's feminine whimpers and struggles, his weight pinning Altan to the bed. He playfully kissed the full round painted lips, and the soft skin of the young girl's neck, nibbling at an earlobe. His free hand caressed Altan's luscious breasts, squeezing and rubbing, as he enjoyed his complete dominance over the young girl. The warrior was enjoying everything that the luscious feminine body had to offer. He was revelling in his masculine superiority, as the female body writhed and struggled under him.
Altan could feel the organ inside him, thrusting deeply, and rubbing against his nub. His struggles seemed to merely highlight the rapture coming from his body. Altan felt utterly helpless and humiliated, he was unable to stop the fighter from doing anything he wanted. He realised that rape was the ultimate defeat, he was trapped inside the body of a female, his will meant nothing. He realised the trap into which he had fallen. He knew that even if he told the warrior that he had changed his mind, he would still be raped, and forced to live his life as a dominated and helpless female pleasure slave, a pleasure slave whose only job was to satisfy her master's lustful desires. Nothing he could do would stop the man from enjoying his ripe feminine body. He could feel the warrior between his legs, rubbing against the silk of his stockings and the lace of his suspenders as he continued to thrust inside. As he struggled, he could feel the shaft deep inside him, filling him completely, the head rubbing sensually against his nub, making him squirm with involuntary delight. As he writhed around the shaft, the organ continued to massage his nub, making him cry with forced feminine rapture, overwhelming his resistance. The more he struggled, the more intense the feelings became, the organ deep inside him was a weapon against which he had no defence.
Slowly his futile resistance failed, and he lay under the man, dressed in the slinky silk lingerie, the throbbing shaft running in and out of his cleft. He was penetrated fully, the head rubbing up against the nub inside him, causing waves of involuntary pleasure to wash over him. He could feel the shaft as in ran over his sensitive lips, rubbing against him, massaging his cleft. It was deep inside him, utterly dominating.
There was no resistance, as the warrior caressed his breasts, fondling them as his shaft rubbed against the small nub deep inside the girl, filling her womanhood, fulfilling her female body, and destroying her will. Altan's new female body was responding eagerly to the man's penetrations, destroying his attempt to resist Altan moaned with pleasure, no longer struggling, unable to stop his rebellious feminine body from responding to the warrior's caress.
"Mmm," whispered the warrior, "you like that don't you."
The shame was terrible, but worse was the realisation that the man was right, he did like it. He had been taught how to resist torture, but the endless pleasure coming from his feminine body could defeat him. His resistance had failed, shame and the feelings from his new body had overcome him. He found himself helplessly responding to the warrior, returning the kisses, and accepting the man's tongue inside his mouth. He could feel the man's lips pressed against his full moist painted lips, the feel of the makeup on his pretty young face humiliating him further. Unable to stop himself, his hips began to thrust with the man, multiplying the feeling as he squirmed on the man's colossal shaft. The knowledge and feeling of the feminine lingerie turning him on more than he wanted to admit. He could feel the lingerie all over his ripe female body, a purely feminine feeling of frills, silk and lace, that combined with the makeup, perfume and jewellery made his head spin.
Every part of his body seemed to be covered in silk. He could feel his legs encased in the silky stockings, with lacy straps running tight up his thighs. His silk covered legs felt wonderful, rubbing sensuously against the muscled warrior as he moved up and down, thrusting deeply inside the girl. He wriggled his toes, inside the fine mesh, luxuriating in the forbidden erotically feminine feeling. It tickled his feet slightly as he moved, and he could feel the lacy tops of the stockings encircling his thighs. The fighter's tongue flicked inside Altan's mouth, mimicking the man's organ, as it slowly explored Altan's new, deliciously feminine body.
Altan told himself that his new body was simply far too weak to make any attempt to stop the man. He was totally helpless, forced to lie there, no longer resisting, legs spread wide open, experiencing the full range of feminine bliss as the warrior rode him and moved toward his climax. The warrior released his arms, and took a breast in each hand. Altan's silk clad body lay under the man, as he moved inside him. He could feel the man's muscular body pressed against him, only the slinky silk of his basque between their naked bodies. The humiliation of having the Warlord deep inside him, in complete possession of his body was appalling, but there was also a strange titillation. He knew that he was powerless, and was going to spend the rest of his life serving the Warlord's pleasure and he found the thought disturbingly erotic. He could not help but gasp as the area between his legs overwhelmed him with ecstasy.
The man grasped Altan tightly by the buttocks making him gasp with surprise, it emphasised the warrior's complete dominance. The Warlord began to thrust more urgently, lifting Altan to get deeper inside the girl's body. Gasping, Altan looked up at the mirrors. He could see the warrior kissing the girl's full round painted lips, enjoying all of the helpless feminine body. The man knelt between the open stockinged legs, lifting the girl by the buttocks, and thrusting hard inside her. The girl was gasping with helpless rapture as the man rode her. Her silk clad body was wriggling and squirming under the dominant man's penetrations. Altan's hands involuntarily began to run over the lacy basque covering his new breasts, gasping as the man thrust deeply inside him. He could feel his new soft sensual body, under the silk; The lace edging of his basque running delicately over his breasts; The wonderful luxurious feeling of his legs encased in the smoothest silk, rubbing against the man as he thrust. He felt delicate, feminine, and helpless.
Altan gasped, tensed and cried out as the feelings simply got too much, and his new body was pushed into orgasm. His entire world seemed to shrink down to the urgent, thrusting organ of the man between his legs. He could feel it ramming in and out of his cleft, a rhythmic unstoppable force that was moving his whole silkily feminine body up the bed. He could sense the erotic feeling of the lacy basque on his body, tightly covering him, moving silkily over his curved feminine body. The suspenders, taut lines of silky lace running down his legs, connected to gossamer silk of the stockings covering his legs. They rubbed sensually against his skin as the man thrust between his open legs, the feelings seducing him, effortlessly destroying his will as the man rode him toward his climax.
He was being ravished, as a woman he was unable to stop the man, his body was open whenever the man wanted him. He found the thought of being a helpless female, forced to wear beautiful sensual silks, skirts, dresses and being dominated and raped surprisingly erotic. He realised to his dismay, that he was enjoying these feelings. He could feel the man moving between his legs, pushing against his suspenders. The shaft thrust inside him, rubbing and throbbing, giving him ecstasy he had could not have imagined. He found himself moving around the shaft, trying to satisfy a hunger, he had never believed possible.
He was out of control, his female body responding to the man. He opened his legs wider, utterly dominated now, squirming around the plunging manhood, thrusting with it, wanting the man and trying to get him deeper inside. He could feel the manhood pushing deep inside his feminine cleft, fulfilling him. He knew that only a dominant man's shaft inside could truly satisfy his new desires. He desperately needed the man to take him, to ravish and fulfil him.
"Please, Oh please," he moaned, not knowing whether he was begging the warrior to stop or crying for him to continue. He was totally helpless, his entire feminine body was serving the warrior, two hot, wet bodies moving together.
Suddenly the warrior moaned and climaxed inside him. He could feel the man's seed flowing into his fertile female body, totally dominated he could only submit to the titillating humiliation.
For a moment they lay gasping together, the warrior's weight on Altan, and his throbbing but shrinking organ still inside. Slowly the warrior withdrew, giving Altan a final moment of feeling. He rolled over, pulling Altan, unresisting, to him. Altan lay in the fighters muscled arm, his head on the hairy chest, his eyes closed. The Warlord's rough hand cupping his breast, gently caressing, one finger playing with his nipple.
As Altan's mind cleared slightly from the feminine passions, he tried to pretend that it hadn't happened, that he had not enjoyed it, but the echoes of sensual rapture, and the feminine wetness between his smooth slender legs told him otherwise. He knew that he had been utterly vanquished, not only had his armies been defeated, but he himself had suffered the ultimate defeat. He was nothing more than a woman now, no power, strength or rights. He had unwittingly agreed to be changed into a female, and he had allowed himself to be given to the Warlord. His body was owned now by the warrior. Anytime the man wanted he could take him, rape him if he resisted. After what had just happened though, he did not know whether he could resist. He knew he had female desires now, he hated to admit it, but he could feel his female body wanting the man to hold him like this, and to do it all to him again.
He moved slightly, enjoying the slippery feeling of the silk over his body. He was lying in his ultimate enemy's arms, in a female body, wearing a seductive black silken basque and stockings, having just completely surrendered to his new femininity. He found the thought a contradiction of humiliation and titillation.
The warrior's hand gently cupped his breast, massaging it with the silk of the basque, moving the material around the curved shape forcing an unwilling but appreciative murmur from Altan's softly painted lips.
Altan realised that in time he would come to enjoy wearing female clothes, being constrained by bra, bodice and petticoat. As a man he had never known that clothes could feel so beautiful. The tightness of his basque running over the contours of his new body, and the feel of suspenders and stockings encasing his legs as he rubbed them together, made him breathless. It was almost worth being a female to wear clothes like this. All female clothes were impractical, the tightness of the basque and bodice, to the frills, lace and silk of long dresses. They were all designed to make the female appear helpless and weak. They constrained the body, so that women were forced to be graceful and delicate in their movements, to need male assistance.
This was his fate, he thought dreamily, the mighty warrior would spend the rest of his life wearing lingerie, pink silky dresses and make-up. He knew that he would have to dress to please his master, he would have to make himself look pretty and desirable, to wear seductive underwear and lingerie. He thought of all the ladies' clothes he had seen, imagining himself wearing them. Tight slinky dresses with short revealing skirts that displayed a curved voluptuous form, and ample cleavage. Soft luxurious gowns, with flowing silk skirts, and lacy petticoats that swirl around the legs, forcing the wearer to be graceful, and to delicately gather up their skirts as they walk. Tight bodices, and large bustles that force them to behave in that certain feminine way, and to experience the feel of silk on their soft skin all day, every day. He didn't want to admit to himself, but he knew that deep inside, he wanted to be helpless, to be made to wear women's clothes. The thought of having his body swathed in rose pink silk, and lacy lingerie was particularly enticing. He wanted to spend the rest of his life in dresses, and skirts, living a feminine life. He ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the make up. He thought of the bra he had worn, knowing how wonderful it had felt over his soft breasts, the feeling of his large feminine breasts lying snugly in a sensuous cup of pure silk. The straps of his bra and suspenders binding him, stockings running sensually up his legs, making him helplessly feminine. He squirmed in the man's strong dominant arms, relishing the feeling of his new clothes, rubbing his silky legs together, and fantasising of the warrior's rough hands running over his lace covered body.
With a start, he realised that he had turned himself on with the thoughts, and was experiencing another orgasm. He knew that this was the final defeat. He would be dominated, by men, accepting his place as a female whose only responsibility was to look pretty and bear children. Soon he would think nothing of dressing up in lingerie, wanting the man to dominate and rape him, enjoying it and begging for it again. He found it difficult to even think of himself as a man now, his body was that of a female, and he was overwhelmed by feminine feelings.
Suddenly the man got up and began to dress, leaving Altan lying on the bed.
"Dress yourself in those," he ordered pointing to some feminine silks, "I'll send someone for you." He pulled the Altan off the bed, and forced a passionate kiss on Altan's helpless, but not totally unwilling lips, before releasing him and leaving.
As the warlord left, the harem girls returned, giving knowing smiles at the sight of the disorderly lingerie over his body. Altan flushed with embarrassment, at the ladies' remarks, about what he had done, and his feminine form. They ordered him to dress in the silks, and Altan didn't dare disobey, and immediately began to dress.
The clothes were those of a harem pleasure slave. He examined the silky material, and realised that it was virtually see through. The clothes left nothing to the imagination, totally displaying his delicate feminine form. His breasts were lifted to show them at their fullest, and the nipples showed through the filmy material. A length of sheer silk hung down from a bow on his back, and swished pleasantly around his silk covered legs. It was humiliating to be forced to display himself so flagrantly. When dressed, they began to slowly to apply make up. The lip brush gradually turned his lips red, and he could feel the carmine rouge sinking into his full lips. Blusher enhanced his already pink cheeks, and mascara and eye shadow made his green eyes even more striking. They then painted his long nails a bright red, as a slave girl should. He slowly attached a filmy rose pink silk veil over his face The soft wispy material lay over his nose, with just his soft green eyes showing over the top, making him look both demure and seductive. He was made to wear a lot of jewellery, which tinkled as he moved.
When finished, they made him examine himself in a full-length mirror before being taken to his master. He saw a beautiful, but petite green-eyed blonde girl, with long hair and a sensuous body. Jewels sparkled on her hands and arms, and swelling curves of her breasts rose and fell beneath the filmy material that swathed her body. It was a body that was as beautiful and feminine as it was helpless and available.
He touched himself on his silk covered breast, remembering the rough hands of the warrior stroking and caressing. Despite himself, he found that he enjoyed the feeling of the silks whispering against him as he moved, his female body felt very sexy and sensuous.
The ladies took him to the main chamber, where they fastened a gold collar on his neck. The collar was attached to a thin golden leash that the Warlord held, emphasising his dominance over his former enemy.
Altan was forced to lie beside the Warlord on satin pillows, scantily clad in the flimsy silks of a harem pleasure slave. He was made to perform the humiliating feminine tasks of a female pleasure slave, carefully manicuring and polishing the nails of his master's hand, feeding him with nuts and grapes, and allowing the warrior show his dominance. Altan knew that the Warlord was enjoying showing off his total dominance over his former enemy. An enemy that had not only been defeated in battle, but was now serving him as a helpless female concubine in his harem, forced to wear feminine silks and make-up. Who would dare oppose him, if this were their fate? No man would ever dare. He knew that he must not show any sign of resistance, or the warrior would consider the oath broken. Every one looked at him, enjoying the discomfort of their former enemy, and admiring the sensual body. The humiliation of being displayed to everyone in his new feminine form was appalling, but combined with the clothes that he was forced to wear, it was almost unbearable. His lovely face flushed prettily under his pink veil, and he only managed to bear it by thinking about the lives he was saving.
To the laughter of the men, the Warlord boasted that soon his entire harem would be made up of his defeated enemies. All changed to pretty petite girls, forced to satisfy his every desire.
The Warlord took great pleasure in forcing Altan to behave as a female, and to show his submission. He was compelled to satisfy the warrior, to be docile and to wait on his slightest whim. He was required to acknowledge himself as a female, and to answer to the name of Princess Elana. Since it was his duty to give the greatest pleasure possible to his master, he forced himself to smile and be submissive, to be grateful for the warrior's attentions, and to run his hands over the warrior's muscular body stroking and massaging.
His soft luscious breasts were constantly caressed and fondled, through his filmy silk camisole, and the warrior's rough hands were never far from the soft skin inside his thighs, inflaming the desires of his female body.
The Warlord enjoyed fondling his helpless enemy in front of all the guests, emphasising his total supremacy, and humiliating Altan. The very thought of Altan, the great warrior, forced to wear the silken feminine clothes of a harem pleasure slave, aroused him. He ran his hands over the perfect silk clad body, lingering around the breasts, enjoying the luscious and helpless feminine body. He enjoyed forcing Altan to behave as a female, humiliating him in front of the guests.
Altan did his best to perform in a feminine way. His body betraying him once more as he found to his horror, that he was enjoying the warrior's attentions to his girlish form. As he lay draped beside his master performing his female tasks, he found that he was enjoying being stroked, kissed and fondled, especially when it rubbed his silky feminine clothes over his soft skin. He found himself unconsciously responding to the warrior's touch, and behaving as a female. He knew that he should be resisting, but the warrior's touch seemed to inflame his desires, and destroy any thought of resistance. He told himself that he was just biding his time, and that there was nothing he could do at the moment, anyway.
Later, to Altan's horror, he was ordered to entertain the assembled warriors by dancing for them. They enjoyed the thought of their former enemy's humiliation at having to display his new feminine form to its fullest for their amusement. Trembling with fear and shame he began to slowly dance to the music, the silk bow swishing sensually around his legs as he moved. He tried to remember how his own pleasure slaves had danced, and managed to mimic their movements, dancing seductively, swaying sensuously in time with the music. As he danced, the men reached out to touch him. At first he was embarrassed and pulled away, but a look of displeasure on the Warlord face made him dance closer and flirt with them, allowing them to touch and stroke him.
The Warlord enjoyed the dancing, and kissed Altan passionately when he returned, rewarding him for his obedience by caressing his breast. Altan blushed with embarrassment as the assembled warriors cheered at the sight of his sexual defeat.
Late in the evening, he was sent away to prepare himself for his master's bed. He was taken by two harem girls back to his room, where they stripped him, and then dressed him in a beautiful full length, pure white silk and lace night-dress. He slipped the night-dress over his head, and felt the cool silk figure hugging dress whisper down his naked body. Two thin straps lay gracefully over his shoulders, and there was a low neckline of silky embroidered lace over his breasts. The back was very low, leaving his back completely bare except for the two thin crossing straps. As he walked, the cool silk rustled and murmured over his soft naked skin, moving around his legs. He was forced to admit to himself that he adored the feeling of the silk on his naked skin, and delighted in the way it moved over his legs as he walked.
He sat down, and the handmaids brushed his long blonde hair; he could feel it running over his shoulders. In the mirror, a beautiful young girl about eighteen years old looked back. Her straight blonde hair shone as it flowed over the thin straps of her night-dress on her elegant shoulders. She had exquisite green eyes that sparkled and glistened, and soft elegant lips. He could see the two swelling lumps, rising and falling under the silk. As a man he would have fallen in love with his new body in seconds, it was perfect in every way.
He realised that everything the warrior had done to him was designed to break his will, but he knew he could not resist the terrible seduction from his female body. It was humiliating to know that he had no choice but to dress to please his master, to wear make up and lingerie. All his life he had fought to defeat the Warlord, and now he would spend to rest of his life trying to give him the greatest pleasure.
When dressed, he was taken to his master's bedroom, and pushed inside. It was silent and dark inside, but he could make out the bed with a sleeping figure. Quietly he crossed the room, the slinky night-dress clinging and rippling over his body. He nervously pulled back the satin sheets, and crawled inside. He lay breathless, crouched almost in a ball on the edge of the bed, his heart pounding, hoping that the Warlord was asleep.
Then, like a bolt of electricity, he felt a hand touch his buttocks through the silk of his night-dress. Slowly a finger traced a line up his back, sending shivers up his spine. He trembled, sensing the man moving nearer, and then felt the hand move a lock of hair from his delicate neck. Slowly the man began to kiss his neck, trying gently to arouse his feminine desires. He tried to ignore the touch, but his body began to shiver uncontrollably. The hand slid down over the thin straps, to his lace covered breasts. For a moment they tenderly massaged him, through the pure silk of the night-dress, before moving down his firm young female body to his legs.
The man moved closer, pressing his muscular body against the girl. The slinky night-dress felt very thin, and Altan felt very feminine and defenceless in it. The silk seemed to touch every part of his female form, the sensual material forcing his awareness of his femininity. He could feel the man through the silk, his strong masculine body pressed against him, demanding, insistent. Altan's breath began to increase and he tried to resist, to tell himself that he was a man, but all the feelings coming from his rebellious new body were female. The hand slid up and down his legs, inflaming his body's female desires. He trembled under the man's expert touch. Finally it moved to the inside of his thigh, stoking the soft sensitive skin through the silk night-dress.
He felt himself weakening as the silk rubbed against him. The touch and feel of the silky feminine lingerie felt so sexual, that it seemed to have an almost will destroying effect on him.
"No, please," he whispered, "you mustn't". It his last hope, begging the Warlord not to do this to him, but the man's hand slid mercilessly between his legs, stroking his most private feminine area. He shivered, and moaned with involuntary delight, unable to contain himself.
"Oh, you like that, don't you," whispered the warrior. "Admit it."
Altan whimpered slightly as the finger moved inside him again, he knew he would not be able to resist, and was soon writhing on the man's finger.
He tried to close his legs, but he could still feel the man's hand caressing him gently. He felt the man kiss him tenderly. He was helpless, he could not fight back, and if he did his people would suffer. He had to surrender to the man, to do whatever he was commanded.
At last he could withstand no more, seduced by the feelings from his new body his will shattered. He turned his head and began to passionately kiss his master. His arms were around the warrior's neck, as he surrendered fully to his female desires. All thoughts of masculinity were gone in the tempest of feminine rapture that swept over him.
The Warlord covered Altan's face and neck with kisses, his hands moving over the girl's body, touching Altan where he knew he would like it. Altan couldn't help himself as his hands moved over his master's strong muscled back, his feminine body open to the man. He felt the Warlord push his hand up the inside of the slinky night-dress, lifting the night-dress up his female body, over the curved hips. All thoughts of resistance gone, Altan leaned forward, allowing the warrior to take the silky dress over his head, leaving him entirely naked and vulnerable. Altan lay back, as the Warlord moved on top of him. Willingly, he opened his long silky legs, wanting him inside, his hands groping for the manhood, meekly accepting the Warlord's total dominance as he lay under him.
With a single thrust the warrior was inside. Altan gasped a uniquely feminine sound as he was mounted, the organ deeply penetrating, his feelings were uncontrolled. For a moment he lay naked below the male, then he pushed back, doubling the feeling. The Warlord moved his hands to Altan's breasts, caressing him.
Altan was seduced by the feeling of his naked body under the Warlord, the feeling of a strong, dominant man thrusting hard between his legs, penetrating him fully, plunging inside him, ravishing him. His lips found the warrior, and they kissed deeply, Altan willingly accepting his tongue. He ran his hands over his hairy muscular chest, and the male's strong hands held his slender feminine form, feeling him all over.
He was submerged in the feeling of his femininity, of the man inside him and the satin sheets covering them both. His whole body tingled with the sensuality of it, the throbbing shaft running over sensitive lips, his maidenhood being fulfilled. Altan cried out with ecstasy as the head rubbed up against the small nub inside him, paralysing him with passion. He lay under the male, his hands above his head, unable to move, crying out as the warrior explored him. The Warlord's hands all over his breasts, his organ probing, moving deeper and deeper, leaving nothing untouched. The warrior knelt between Altan's legs, thrusting hard and deep inside the girl, each hand holding a sumptuous breast. Altan felt wonderful, the thrusting organ deep inside him, and the caressing hands fondling his luscious breasts, as he lay paralysed by the ecstasy of feeling. The Warlord kissed him deeply, and he returned the kisses with equal ardour, absolutely lost in his new femininity.
In part of Altan's mind he was detached still, but he felt helpless, he had been emasculated by his enemy, who had destroyed his manhood, and now was taking him, ravishing his body; the thought of his sexual defeat was very erotic. This is what the feminine feeling demanded, to live as a female, wearing slinky sensual feminine clothes, lingerie and tight dresses. The rest of his life, he would wear bras, basques and bodices to please his master's desires. He was immersed in the feeling of being sexually dominated, helpless and weak.
Suddenly the Warlord turned Altan around, and made him kneel with his back to the warrior. He could feel the man's organ hard against his buttocks, it felt huge and powerful. He felt the warriors hands move slowly up his back and over his curved body, caressing and fondling. With a quick thrust, the warrior entered his maidenhood from behind, forcing a feminine cry from Altan's lips. The man's hands moved under the naked girl's arms, lifting them to take a breast each. The Warlord held Altan firmly by the breasts, lifting and caressing, controlling her completely as he began to thrust deep up inside the girl, each thrust raising Altan. Altan could hear the Warlord whispering in his ear as he thrust, mocking him and commenting on his new femininity. Altan could not resist, the man seemed to be able to dominate him completely, simply by holding his breasts. He felt humiliated at being forced to kneel utterly naked, gasping helplessly as the warrior took him from behind. He could feel the enormous organ as it moved between his legs and rasped tantalisingly over his sensitive lips, before plunging deep inside him. He could feel the organ deep up inside him, rubbing against his nub as he knelt with his legs open. The shaft of the manhood rubbed against the lips of his maidenhood making him shiver with tormenting delight. The feeling of the warrior's masculine supremacy, the knowledge of what he was doing, made him sob helplessly.
The warrior thrust slowly, wanting to savour the emasculating victory over his enemy. He could feel his organ penetrating deeply, and the soft sumptuous breasts in his hands. He could feel Altan helplessly squirming, unable to escape from the humiliating sensuality of being taken as a female.
The warrior reached up, and grabbed Altan's long blonde hair, pulling it back so that he was forced to look into the eyes of the Warlord as he was degradingly raped.
Altan could feel the man's hot breath against his soft white neck as he panted, his body reaching orgasm. He heard the man cry out, as he peaked, his manhood pulsing and throbbing inside. He recognised the feeling of the male's seed flowing into him, fulfilling his female existence.
For a moment the man continued, but then his thrusts slowly subsided, until eventually he stopped and withdrew from the gasping feminine body.
Altan felt so humiliated at his submissive degradation. He could feel the wetness and the fondling touch of the man between his legs, and on his new female body.
As he lay back on the bed, the warrior ordered Altan to slip back into his night-dress. Altan obeyed, unable to defy the man's orders, but it was painfully humiliating to slip into the delicate silk night-dress in front of the Warlord. He felt the white silk dress slide and whisper down his body, settling gracefully over his voluptuous breasts.
The Warlord watched him dress himself in the luxurious silken night-dress, smiling at the obvious shame on Altan's pretty new face. He then gestured that Altan should return to the bed.
This was so degrading, it wasn't enough that he had been taken by the man, he would also have to share his bed dressed in utterly feminine lingerie. Even now, he wanted to resist, but the defeats of the day, and his recent total submission overwhelmed him, and he timidly slipped back into the Satin sheets.
He lay next to the muscled warrior, his silk covered body pressed close against him, unresisting in his strong masculine arms and, exhausted, eventually fell asleep.
When Altan woke in the morning, he found himself in a strange bedroom, and tried to remember what girl he had slept with. He was confused for a moment at the feeling of the silk night-dress over his soft breasts, but then the horror of the previous day came flooding back to him. He jolted upright in the bed, and looked around wildly for the Warlord, but he was nowhere to be seen.
He leapt out of bed and walked quickly over to the mirror, hoping desperately that it had all been a terrible dream, but the feeling of the slinky smooth silk murmuring over his curved form and the sight of the sensual female body destroyed his last hope.
Before he could do anything else, the door opened and the ladies-in-waiting entered. They moved quickly around the room, preparing his bath and clothes. He felt so helpless and defeated that he did not even argue, he simply allowed them to bathe him, and dress him. They dressed him in a soft pink camisole and lacy panties, with suspenders and stockings. They then clad him in a beautiful full length blue silk dress, with white lace, a full skirt and a tight bodice. It had tiny satin bows on the sleeves, and above the breast. The dress ran delicately off the shoulders, and emphasised his full breasts. He could feel his breasts sitting sensually in their cup of lace and silk. He was forced to endure the indignity of standing unresisting, as the ladies tightly laced up the back of his corset and dress. It was a strangely erotic feeling of feminine helplessness, knowing that he would be unable to undress without assistance.
He then sat in the silken folds of his dress, whilst they carefully arranged his long hair. Instead of tying his hair up, they arranged it deliberately over his elegant feminine shoulders. Once his hair was ready, they applied his make-up. The feeling of the velvety brush on his lips made him remember the kisses of the Warlord. He watched in the mirror as the soft pink lipstick was brushed onto his lips giving them a full soft appearance, and the blusher was stroked onto his high cheeks, bestowing him with a slight blush. He could feel the tight bodice against his skin, and the soft silk of his skirt lay enfolded around his legs. He was also adorned with beautiful rings, bracelets, earrings and a necklace.
When they were finished, he examined himself in the mirror. The young girl in the mirror was truly lovely, with a perfect body and an exquisite face. The beautiful clothes that she was clad in, added to her elegance. Watching his lithe, supple body in the mirror made him feel very sexy and feminine. He quickly tore his gaze away, knowing that he had to resist these terrible feminine desires.
As he walked with them to another room, he could feel the dress whispering and sighing around his legs, and his body felt very slinky in the tight bodice. He could not deny that it felt wonderful, and he could feel the temptation of wearing women's clothes for the rest of his life.
When they arrived, they continued their instructions on how to walk and behave as a lady. He was forced to practice his curtsy and his walk. He had to be shown how to walk in, lest he trip on the long skirts and petticoats. He had to force himself to take small delicate steps, rather than the strides his was used to. He was taught how to manage his flowing skirts, and how to gather them correctly so that he could walk up steps.
When they were satisfied, they took him to his room, and showed him how to dress himself in feminine clothes, and to apply make-up. He was forced to try on lots of different female clothes, from lingerie, to ball gowns. The women enjoyed the thought of a man being forced to wear women's clothes, and made sure that he experienced the full range of feminine attire.
They started with the lingerie, and made him try on various frilly and lacy basques. They enjoyed humiliating Altan, by forcing him to tell them whether he liked particular items. They made him wear soft silky camisoles and french knickers, always with lacy suspenders and sensual silken stockings. Altan had never known anything more humiliating than being at the mercy of these ladies, forced to obey their degrading orders to dress himself in female lingerie.
After the lingerie, they dressed him in various full skirted, tight satin bodice dresses, and also tight slinky figure hugging, low cut dresses, with short skirts that forced him to walk with a sexy feminine sway.
He soon discovered, as he wore more and more feminine clothes, that his whole posture was changing. As a male, he had stood with his hands free, ready to seize a sword, now as a maiden, he found himself using his hands to keep the satins from slipping from his shoulders, or to lift his silken skirts and petticoats as he walked. He realised that the longer he wore a female body, the more he would become like a female, until eventually he knew nothing else.
He was made to dress in luxurious silken lingerie, and was taught how to make himself attractive to men, using make-up, jewellery and subtle and seductive dancing. It was humiliating to be forced to learn female skills of dressing, dancing and satisfying men's carnal desires. It made him realise the full horror of his plight. He knew that the Warlord would be enjoying the thought of him being taught how to behave as a concubine, and how to give the warrior the greatest amount of pleasure.
At the end of the session, the ladies left him to dress and prepare himself to meet the warrior. He was told to choose underwear and lingerie, and to clothe himself in a dress of his choice.
Altan knew that this was a test by the warrior. If he picked something that did not please the Warlord, then his people would suffer. He was therefore forced to voluntarily dress himself in seductive feminine clothing.
His face blushing with shame, he examined the clothes that filled the room, trying to decide what to wear. He decided to pick his underwear first, and tried on a number items of lingerie, trying to decide what would please the Warlord most. After he had tried on a number of basques, camisoles and cami-knickers, he had to admit to himself that he was enjoying dressing in the female lingerie. The soft silky lace felt glorious over his body, and he loved the feel of pure silk stockings encasing his legs. The lace and silken material brought terrible feelings and desires to his mind, destroying his will. For a moment he struggled within himself, trying to gather the strength to rip the lingerie from his body, and to resist the Warlord. But gradually the struggle subsided, and he slowly continued to dress in the feminine clothes. He knew that it was wrong, but he loved wearing female clothes, and made sure he tried on lots on bras, basques and suspenders.
He finally picked a black soft silky basque, and luxurious silk stockings. Slowly he drew the silken basque up his shapely body, feeling it slip smoothly over his hip. The lacy material slid over his breasts, and the thin lace straps hung delicately over his shoulders. He could feel the slinky material whispering over his skin. Taking the silky gossamer stockings, he slowly drew them up his long slender legs, shivering at the wonderfully feminine feelings they inspired. Slowly he linked their lacy tops to his suspenders, relishing the feeling of the lacy straps against his legs.
Dressed in the lingerie, he slowly began to try on various dresses. He loved the feeling of the tight restrictive dresses, but also adored the silky full flowing dresses that forced him to move gracefully. After trying on a number of beautiful dresses, he eventually settled on a pink, full-skirted dress with a tight bodice and a restrictive underskirt. It was very feminine, with lace trimmings and a flouncy skirt that had a large bustle. The forbidden thoughts of dressing himself in pink made him breathless. He loved the feel of the flowing skirt as it moved over his silk stockinged legs, and the way he was forced to gather his skirts up in a decidedly feminine manner as he moved to avoid tripping. When he had finished dressing, he sat and adorned himself in make-up and pretty jewellery.
He had hardly finished dressing, when he heard the door open, and turned to find the Warlord standing there. He quickly got to his feet, and curtseyed demurely as he had been taught. He lifted his silk skirts in a feminine way, whilst sinking deep into the billowing pleats of his dress. He waited eyes downcast, as the warrior crossed the room. Altan was forced to wait, docile and submissive, until the warrior was ready.
He blushed, when he thought of what he was doing; He was dressed in a princess's pink silken dress, and curtseying demurely to his worst enemy. He could feel the feminine dress covering his body, the wonderfully sensual silk of his petticoats and skirts enveloping his legs. He could feel the delicate jewellery around his wrist and neck, and the soft carmine of his make up on his face. He felt utterly and humiliatingly feminine, knowing that the Warlord owned him completely, and was enjoying forcing him to do this.
The Warlord raised him up, and made him give a feminine twirl to display his beautiful gown. Altan, his eyes demurely downcast, twirled gracefully, watching his pink silken skirts swirl around his legs. It made him feel very feminine, as he displayed himself for his master. When the warrior finished, he was swept into a close embrace, and kissed passionately by the man. He tilted his head back, allowing the man to kiss him, unconsciously taking up a feminine pose. His female form seemed to automatically yield to the male. He could sense his female desires trying to take control, as the man pressed his muscular form against his silk clad body. He could feel his breasts heaving through the silken bodice, as the man's hands ran slowly over his wonderful lacy dress.
The man slowly released him, allowing him to step back, and then he made Altan turn around. Altan felt the skirts of his long flowing dress, sweep around his legs. The tight silk underskirt restricted his movement, reminding him to gather his skirts prettily as he turned.
The warrior slowly began to kiss his neck, moving the long blonde hair to one side. Altan could feel the man's hand move slowly up his body, pressing against his breasts, caressing him through the silken material. The man's arms were around him, and each hand held a breast. Altan could feel his breasts heaving under the man's experienced touch, and he could feel the man's hot breath, as he kissed his neck, and nibbled at his ear. He could sense himself getting excited as the warrior reached down and took his hands, moving them slowly over his own breasts, outlining their perfect shape, and caressing them through the delicate pink silk and lace of his dress. He closed his eyes as the warrior slowly moved his hands under his breasts, cupping and lifting them, before moving a hand down his cleavage. He could feel the tightness of his silken bodice holding his heaving breasts in a silk cup. It was a very feminine feeling, which made him feel weak with excitement.
He stood there with his eyes closed, as the man slowly caressed him. He could feel the silk and lace of his dress as the man's hands moved slowly over him. He could feel the feminine clothing all over him; the low cut, lace edged neck that the Warlord slowly kissed; the pretty puff sleeves, and the tiny satin bows over his breasts. He shivered slightly as he thought of the tight silk bodice, and the flowing silken skirts that gracefully concealed his sensual lingerie covered body. It all felt so wonderfully feminine and sensual.
The Warlord left him fondling himself, as he slowly began to unlace the back of Altan's dress. Altan was helpless, forced to keep fondling himself as the dominant Warlord slowly unlaced his dress, and stripped him to his frilly, utterly feminine lingerie. It was a strangely titillating feeling of feminine helplessness, as his dress slipped slowly off his shoulders, and slid silkily down his body to the floor, the luxurious material sending a wonderful shiver down his spine. The warrior made appreciative murmurs as he saw the frilly silken basque that clad his defenceless victim.
His hand slid between Altan's legs rubbing against the suspender, rubbing it against Altan's leg, then moving up to rub the silk of his knickers against his maidenhood. Altan felt himself gasping as the feelings of the silk against him began to overwhelm his mind. He could feel the man's hand as it moved between his legs, stroking him, and making him wet with helpless feminine excitement. Altan was forced to stand there and accept the warrior's absolute dominance, as the Warlord continued to kiss his neck, and caress his cleft. He could feel the manhood of the aroused man pressing against him, it felt huge as it throbbed and pushed against him.
Though excited by his feminine desires, he felt utterly ashamed at the emasculation of standing dressed in the sensual basque, allowing the Warlord to sample to the full, the delights of his feminine form. He could feel the straps of the lingerie over his delicate shoulders and running up his long silky legs. The Warlord's hand moving down the inside of his leg, caressing him though the sheer silk stockings, and the silken material of the basque encircled his body, exciting him with forbidden thoughts. His sumptuous feminine breasts swelled under the adept touch of the man.
He closed his eyes, trying in vain to ignore the touch of the man's hand, and it slowly slid inside his knickers, fondling him slowly. It was impossible, and Altan moaned slightly as a finger ran lightly over his maidenhood, sending tingles through his body. He hated that he was so helpless, forced to wear and do whatever the male demanded. His new gender required that he be completely subservient and submissive.
He tilted his head back as the warrior continued to kiss his neck, his tongue tracing wet lines. The warrior took his hands, and pulled them behind his back, moving them down to fondle the huge manhood. Altan drew the organ out of the trousers, feeling the moist head rub sexually against his buttocks. He slowly drew his fingers along it, feeling it throbbing as he caressed the organ. He could feel the Warlord's hands, one caressing his breast the other fondling his maidenhood, both exciting his female desires. He gasped as the man's finger moved inside, effortlessly dominating him. The feeling of having something inside him was an alien feeling to his male mind, but it was also wonderfully erotically feminine. Any defence he could muster could be instantly broken by the Warlord, the moment he moved inside. It was complete emasculation, as the teasing invading finger made him gasp with feminine sensuality. He squirmed slightly as the finger moved inside him, unable to stop himself as the Warlord demonstrated to him his feminine vulnerability.
He could feel the man's organ in his hand, and he slowly fondled it, feeling it grow, and push closely against his buttocks. The sheer eroticism of what he was doing made him breathless. He felt light-headed, as the man's hands continued to run over his helpless female body. He could feel the head of the man's organ rubbing slowly against the lace edging of his silk basque. He was utterly helpless, forced to give the man anything he wanted.
The warrior turned him and made him kneel. The idea of kneeling in the slinky black silk lingerie at the feet of the Warlord made him blush with wonderfully titillating humiliation. He knew what the strong assertive man was going to do to him, and he gasped with helpless female excitement. As he knelt, he could the feel the stockings encircling his legs and the taut lacy lines of his suspenders running down his thighs. His breasts were hanging in their slinky silk cups. His feminine desires were taking control again, and he could feel his female body preparing to accept the Warlord inside. Slowly the Warlord took his hands and made him take the huge organ. Gently he began to caress the manhood, moving his fingers over it. He could feel the organ throbbing under his fingers, as he slowly caressed it, and took it in his mouth.
It was humiliating to be forced to kneel at the feet of the Warlord in the feminine lingerie, but he had to do whatever he was told. He moved his tongue to the tip as he had been taught, and slowly moved his mouth along the shaft, backwards and forwards. He could taste the man, as he closed his eyes, the organ throbbing in his mouth. He could feel it moving over his moist painted lips, strong and demanding. The warriors' hands were in his hair, holding him, and making him move as the warrior wanted.
Abruptly, the Warlord drew him up, and pushed him down on the satin bed. Altan lay on his back as the man moved on top of him, moving slowly up his body kissing and caressing. He could feel the man's hands rubbing the basque against his skin as he slowly massaged the luscious breasts. The Warlord moved up and began to kiss his breasts. Altan could feel the man's tongue moving over and around his nipple, as he sucked and nibbled at the breast. It was very erotic, feminine feeling, having his breasts kissed by the Warlord.
The man's hands moved down to his thighs, and pulled his knickers down, leaving him open and defenceless. Casually the hands moved back up the inside of his legs, rubbing against the soft lacy tops of his stockings, and running up the straps of his suspenders. Slowly they pushed his legs open, moving up to fondle him gently. Altan gasped with delight at the man's touch, unable to contain himself. The man continued to kiss him, moving down his body until he began to nuzzle Altan's maidenhood. He could feel the man's tongue as it passed over his lips, and moved inside him. Altan's back arched as the man's tongue caressed him, and he cried out as a sensitive spot was touched. He was helpless, unable to resist as the man moved inside him, licking and caressing. He could feel the man's hands rub the suspenders against his thighs, as they pushed his legs further open. He moaned with despair as the man's tongue flicked inside him; It was degrading to be forced to serve the Warlord as a female concubine, but how could he resist someone who could give him this much bliss? He knew that more he experienced this terrible feminine rapture, the less he wanted to resist and the more he wanted to surrender to the temptations of slinky lingerie and femininity.
"Oh please don't," he cried out, unconvincingly pleading with the warrior not to do this to him. The feelings were simply too strong to resist as the man continued to move inside him.
The Warlord smiled, and gradually began to kiss his way up the female body, lingering around the breasts, then moving up to kiss Altan passionately on the lips. Altan found himself accepting the man's tongue in his mouth, as they kissed deeply. The man's hand moved over his silk clad body, caressing and fondling, inflaming his forbidden desires. Slowly the man moved between his legs, pushing them open, his strong body rubbing against the suspenders. The shame of lying unresisting, forced to behave as a girl was terrible, but he also found it enticingly erotic. It was made worse by the fact that he had to actively cooperate, by kissing and moving against the man, trying to excite and stimulate him. Altan opened his legs further, moving one leg up to rub against the man. He could feel the suspender and the lace top of his stocking move slowly against the man. He shivered at the erotic feeling of the sheer stockings enveloping his legs; it was a very feminine feeling that made him very aware of the sensual lingerie he was wearing.
He felt the huge manhood touch him, and despite his humiliation, he felt sheer ecstasy. The head rubbed gently against his maidenhood, causing waves of desire to shoot through him. He moaned, and squirmed against the man, aching for the male to take him. Slowly the warrior moved inside him, opening him fully with the final thrust. Altan gasped as the man mounted him and began to thrust inside him, deeply penetrating. Altan could feel the man against his body, moving against the silk basque, the warrior's hips between his silky legs, forcing them apart with each drive. The head of the organ was against his nub, making him cry out with wonderful helpless feminine bliss. He could feel the manhood filling him, deep inside his maidenhood. It was a uniquely feminine feeling that made him gasp. He had never believed that anything like this was possible. But here he was, wearing a frilly lace basque, sensual stockings, lying on his back with his legs spread wide open, a man thrusting deep inside him. He was performing the acts of a harem pleasure slave, trying to give pleasure to his ultimate enemy. Surely this was the ultimate defeat for a warrior such as himself. The shame and humiliation of his acts were nothing compared to his new feminine desires.
He was caught in the contradiction of his emotions. On the one hand he wanted to beg the man not to stop, as the organ moved deep inside him. This was magnificent, the utter rapture of being a female as his maidenhood was fully penetrated by the man. On the other hand he felt the humiliation of having to dress as a woman, and allow his enemy to ravish his new helpless body.
But his will was finite, whereas the rapture between his legs seemed infinite. Unable to resist any longer, he grasped the bed, bracing himself as he pushed back, surrendering to his femininity. He could feel the shaft throbbing deep up inside his maidenhood, filling him as the male thrust rhythmically. The humiliation of having the Warlord enjoy the delights of his female body, penetrating and caressing, were overwhelmed by the strange delight of being forced to wear slinky feminine lingerie. As a man he had never expected to experience these feelings, but now, as he lay under the man clad in a silk basque, the man's thrusting organ caressing his cleft, he knew fully what it was to be a woman. He loved being forced to wear women's clothes, the delights of feeling silk over his skin, and soft lacy stockings on his legs. He loved the wonderfully feminine feeling of wearing a long slinky dress with a tight silken bodice, and a flowing skirt that swirled around stockinged legs. He had to admit to himself that he loved wearing this tight sensual lingerie, and being forced to behave as a female.
He could hear the Warlord demanding that he say his new name. Altan couldn't resist, he could feel the full femininity of his body, the sensual silk lingerie, and gossamer stockings, he was Princess Elana, beautiful, sensual, feminine.
He could hear his submissive feminine voice gasping "Princess Elana, I'm Princess Elana".
It was a moment of truth, as he admitted his new sex, and surrendered fully. Elana writhed against the man, squirming around his organ, luxuriating in the feeling of her silk basque, and sheer stockings. She could feel the man deep inside, his strong masculine body between her silky legs, pinning her down, holding her helpless. Elana felt the warrior's hands on her body, highlighting her luscious breasts. Her own delicate feminine hands moved over the warrior's strong muscled back, moving down to his firm buttocks, feeling him thrust inside. The warrior kissed her again, his tongue moving inside Elana's mouth, dominating and demanding. Elana moaned with delight, as she felt the Warlord's hands seize her wrists, and pin them above her head, dominating her completely. She lay under him, feeling the man inside, as the Warlord rode her, enjoying her fully.
"Oh my Lord," she gasped in rapture, as the warrior thrust hard and deep inside her, penetrating her fully. She was experiencing the full delights of feminine helplessness. She wrapped her legs around the warrior, feeling the lacy strap of her suspender and the silk of her stockings rub against him.
Elana felt him thrust harder, forcing her legs wide open. One hand pinned her arms to the bed, whilst the other fondled her breasts. The Warlord continued to kiss her, his tongue flicking inside Elana's mouth. She could feel the man's shaft, deep inside her, plunging and ravishing. She could feel the silk of her basque rubbing against her body, as the man penetrated her, the masculine body hard between her silky legs. She felt utterly vulnerable, knowing that she was completely helpless and was being raped.
Elana cried out, unable to withstand the sheer ecstasy that washed over her. Nothing had ever prepared her for the sheer sensuality of being a female. She was pinned down and helpless, forced to wear tight silken lingerie, and soft sensuous stockings and suspenders. She could feel the silk girdle, holding her smooth curved form and her voluptuous female breasts. Every movement caused a luxurious rush of silken sensations to flood through her. The feeling of the tops of her lace silk stockings encircling her thighs, and the long lacy straps of her suspenders running down her legs made her moan with delight. The feeling of her enemy, thrusting deep inside her, the manhood penetrating her fully, and the thought of the sensuous feminine lingerie forced her to gasp and cry out with ecstasy. She could feel the head of the man's organ move against her nub, and she wriggled and squirmed against him, trying to move his organ around her maidenhood, increasing her bliss. She was helpless, forced to experience fully the delights of her new gender, knowing the titillating shame, that the Warlord was enjoying her fully.
The man moved between Altan's legs, thrusting hard, and making the young girl moan with bliss. He ran his hands over the silk basque, rubbing Altan's breasts. He loved the feel the Altan's body, helpless and vulnerable. The knowledge of what he was doing to Altan excited him so much that he nearly peaked too soon. He tried to calm himself, and leant down and kissed Altan's lips, savouring the taste of lipstick on his enemy's soft new lips. He released Altan's arms, and reached down and took the girl by her curved hips, moving her slowly. He could hear Altan moaning helplessly as he thrust inside the female body. He could feel the tight lacy straps of the suspender belt, and the luxurious silk of the basque running over Altan. The thought of Altan having to dress in this silken lingerie, and spending his life confined in tight slinky dresses and skirts broke his control, and he cried out as he climaxed.
Elana felt the warrior climax inside her, and then felt the man's seed flowing into her. She gasped as the man withdrew, unable to stop herself. The warrior pulled Elana to him, as they kissed deeply. Elana responded, lost in the passion, she could feel the man's hand rubbing her stockings and suspenders. Her dainty feminine hand caressed his large muscled arms and gently stroked his dwindling manhood. Her sumptuous breasts lay on his chest, as she tenderly kissed him. The man's tongue moved inside her mouth exploring her fully. Elana moved her hand down to caress the man's diminishing organ. As they kissed, his hand crept down, and began to caress her through the basque. She began to make appreciative feminine murmurs as he touched her, moving against his hand.
The Warlord smiled, enjoying the thought of what he was doing to his former enemy, knowing that he had crushed Prince Altan's will. He ran his hand up the firm feminine body, rubbing the silk basque against the smooth soft skin, knowing the effect it had on her. Elana was helplessly excited by the touch of the man's hand, her body eager for him. The Warlord's hand moved slowly up the inside Elana's leg, and began to stroke the soft skin inside her thigh. Elana murmured appreciatively as his expert touch inflamed her desires, destroying any thought of resistance. The Princess wantonly continued to kiss and caress her master, sexually aroused by him.
He gently touched the soft velvety hair around her maidenhood, his experienced touch thrilling the female body, but deliberately not fully satisfying her. Under his touch, Elana was fully aroused, desperately wanting him to fulfil her, his touch just enough to keep any thought of masculinity or resistance from her head. The Warlord waited, until Elana was fully enraptured, before humiliating her by making her beg him. When she meekly complied, he rewarded her by running a finger along her womanhood, her girlish body shuddering under his expert touch. He made her say that she wanted to be female, and he forced her to admit that she enjoyed being a made to wear delicate silken dresses and lingerie, and being forced to behave as a maiden. Elana, her face blushing, was utterly submissive and compliant, tamely surrendering to his masculine superiority.
As ordered, Elana slowly moved down her master's body, kissing and caressing. When she arrived at the manhood, she began to slowly lick it, her tongue running up the shaft to caress the tip. She could feel the man shuddering with the arousal. Her long blonde hair fell off her shoulders, and veiled the manhood in a wave of silken blonde tresses. As the manhood began to expand again, she took it in her mouth, carefully fondling it with her tongue. As a reward, she felt the man's hand move back between her legs, pushing them open, and moving inside her. With delight, she began to move against the man's hand, relishing in the pleasure that he could give her.
For a moment she thought about what she was doing, kneeling on all fours, dressed in a silken black basque, lacy stockings and suspenders, worshipping at her worst enemy's manhood. The Warlord hand caressing her, his finger penetrating her, slowly fondling her inside. It was a wonderful feeling of helplessness, knowing that she was just a female, who had no choice but to wear whatever silken female clothes she was ordered to, and to obey her masters every lustful desire.
She moaned as the man continued to finger her, his skilful touch exploring her fully. As she knelt on all fours, the black silk of her frilly basque tight over her body, suspenders and stockings running up her long legs, she closed her eyes and began to move, thrusting gently against the man's hand that rested hard against her maidenhood. The thought of what she was doing, and the feeling of the man's finger inside her, stroking, caressing and fondling made her pant with excitement. She desperately wanted the Warlord inside her, satiating and fulfilling her female body.
The warrior watched with pleasure as Altan moaned, and thrust gently against his hand. The girl's curvaceous feminine figure barely covered by the sensuous silk of the basque. The soft frilly black lace, rubbing gently over her firm buttocks as she thrust. He could see her soft voluptuous breasts hanging gently in their silken cup. He moved his finger inside the girl slightly, enjoying the soft gasps that he could force her to make.
He could feel the girls delicately painted lips moving up and down his shaft, her tongue moving over and around his manhood, caressing and fondling. It excited him that Altan, who had always been considered a great warrior, had been defeated to such an extent, and was forced to kneel before him, dressed in luxurious silken feminine lingerie. He was compelled to behave as a harem slave girl, to experience all the female delights of being raped.
Elana could feel the man's hand between her legs, his finger inside her moving slowly over her nub. Teasing peaks of bliss, that swamped her mind. She could not help herself as she moaned with delight. She could feel the man's other hand running possessively over her buttocks, caressing her with the soft silky lace of her basque. Elana found herself helplessly aroused by the man's touch. Her mouth was full of her ultimate enemy's organ, as she slowly caressed it with her lips and tongue, trying with all he body to give him pleasure. This was the ultimate humiliation, the ultimate defeat.
The man's finger began to caress her more urgently, moving over her sensitive lips, making her writhe helplessly. She gasped as he pushed deep inside her, skilfully touching the most sensitive points.
The titillation of what she was doing was incredible. The thought and feeling of the tight slinky lingerie made her pant with excitement. The thought of being forced to dress in women's clothes, to have to wear suspenders, stockings and bras was wonderfully humiliating. She felt breathless as she thought of the tight corsets and bodices, and the silky slinky skirts that she would have to wear for the rest of her life. She knew that she would have to dress to please her master, and that would mean skimpy sensual lingerie, and delicate gowns. She could feel the forbidden excitement deep inside her, as she thought about sheer stockings, lacy suspenders and silken bras that she would have to wear. She was intoxicated by the desire to feel soft cool silk and delicate lacy straps running over her sensitive feminine body. She wanted her voluptuous breasts to be encircled by the sensual silk of a bra, for lacy straps to run over her helpless delicate body, constraining and restricting. She relished the memory of pulling a tight slinky dress up her slender body. The feeling of being dressed in a tight silk dress, with lace and bows running low over her breasts. Pretty silken gloves, and stockings and suspenders running down her legs. She moaned as the ecstasy became too much, gasping helplessly, as the man continued to fondle her. As a man she had experienced orgasms, but they were short-lived peaks. This was a continuous wave that washed over her, leaving her gasping with utterly helpless rapture. It was too much, she begged the Warlord to stop, but he continued, caressing deep inside her, effortlessly breaching her innermost sanctum. She was helpless, completely paralysed by the depth of the bliss. She was unable to resist as he rolled her onto her back, and pushed her legs apart. One hand continued to fondle between her legs, whilst the other moved slowly over her body, caressing her with the silken lace on her basque. She could feel the silk moving slowly over her body, caressing her breasts, outlining her erect nipples. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel her breasts heaving under his skilled touch. She was moaning helplessly as he kissed her passionately, opening her mouth with his tongue, forcing his way inside.
The wizard had to the warlord how the spell worked. Forcing Altan to experience se as a female weakened his resistance. The warlord knew that the longer Altan spent as a woman, the more difficult it would be for him to resist. If he were not changed back, the feminine side of him would eventually take total control. Wanting to humiliate Altan further, the Warlord began to torment her with whispered comments.
"Well Prince Altan, how do you feel now? Are your new clothes to your liking? Do you like it when I touch you? Do you want me inside you? Where is your famous resistance now?"
Elana could do nothing but moan with terrible rapture as the man moved between her legs and entered her. She could feel the man on top of her, thrusting deep inside, the organ pulsing and rubbing against her nub. The Warlord reached down and pulled her legs up, so that Elana was forced to adopt the degrading position of having her leg spread wide open, up in the air. Holding her legs firmly, he thrust hard inside her making her cry out. The urgent thrusting organ was deep inside her, pushing over her sensitive lips forcing a terrible level of rapture from her violated body. The indignity broke her spirit, and she heard herself gasping helplessly. The masculine organ felt huge inside her, penetrating her and filling her. It was relentless and inexorable, epitomising the warrior's masculine supremacy, forcing Elana to recognise her femininity as the man filled her. Elana was completely defeated, serving the Warlord with her luscious female body, unresistingly obeying his every command. Her legs were wide open, and she could feel the manhood rasping over her maidenhood, moving deep inside her, and thrusting against her nub. The humiliation was complete, once she had been a man, a great warrior to whom all had deferred; But now she was a woman, dressed in slinky silk lingerie, make up on her face, jewellery over her body. Once she had fought the Warlord with all her masculine strength, but now she lay with him, dressed in feminine silks to please him, and accepting his manhood inside her body. It was so degrading and humiliating to be reduced to this, to know that she would spend the rest of her life as a female sex slave. To be nothing more than the object of the Warlord's mockery and lust, forced to dress in sensual female clothes to please his desires. She knew the embarrassing feminine feelings of being unable to stop a male from entering her, and enjoying her fully. It made her feel very subservient and helpless, as she finally accepted her feminine place, seeing the world as a maiden.
Suddenly the warrior climaxed, and spent himself inside the girl. Elana could feel the man's seed pumping into her from the throbbing organ. She lay gasping as the man withdrew, unable to move, her mind numb from the echoes of the sensual ecstasy that enveloped her mind. She was wet with the excitement, her maidenhood throbbing, as she lay with her eyes closed, trying to recover. Slowly she closed her legs, feeling the sensual stockings rub together, reminding her of her femininity.
She felt the man sit up, and begin to dress, but she was simply too exhausted to move. She lay there dressed in her sensual lingerie, trying to come to terms with her new life. She heard the man make his way to the door, and leave without saying a word.
The passions that had controlled Altan slowly began to fade, and as before he was left with the humiliation of what he had done. He sat up, embarrassed at the frilly silk basque that he wore, and slid off the bed to find some clothes. Knowing what the Warrior would expect of him, he dressed himself in the same pink dress he had worn before the warrior entered. Despite feeling humiliated at what had happened to him, he was still titillated by dressing himself in feminine clothes. When he was dressed, he touched up his make up, and carefully brushed his hair, and tied a pink bow.
When finished he stood up and wondered what he should do next. Before, the warlord or the ladies had been there to tell him what to do. Gathering up his silken skirts, he walked to the door and peeked out. To his surprise, there were no guards. Gaining a little courage, he slipped out of the room, carefully managing his skirt so that he did not trip or catch it in the door.
As he moved down the corridor, he could feel the silk skirt whisper and murmur against his stockinged legs. He rounded a corner, and was stunned to find an unguarded door to the outside.
His heart pounding, Prince Altan glanced quickly outside. He could see the courtyard of the palace. There didn't appear to be any guards. This was almost too good to be true he thought. He crept through the door, being careful to manage his silken skirts so that his did not trip. He could see the gate to the city, completely unguarded. Without thinking, he ran towards the gate as fast as his skirts would allow. Only when he was through the gate did he stop to think of what he was doing. If he escaped, then he had broken his word to the Warlord. The Warlord could well kill everyone in the city for revenge. He hesitated, he knew that if he stayed he could not resist the sexual attacks of the warlord. Eventually his male mind would succumb permanently, and he would spend the rest of his life willingly serving the warlord in his harem. He hesitated, lost in indecision. Suddenly there was a shout from inside the enclosure. A guard was running across the courtyard, waving and shouting. It was enough to make up Altan's mind, and he turned and ran as fast as his skirts, and female body's bouncing breasts, would allow.
As he ran up the quiet moonlit street, he could hear the heavy boots of the guards following. He kept turning into side streets, but they were right behind him all the way. He knew that he was not fast enough to escape. He almost felt as though they were herding him rather than trying to catch him. His female body restricted in his tight bodice and skirt was far too slow to escape.
Suddenly he heard feet running down the road toward him. Desperately he looked around for help, for some way to escape. He rounded a corner, and heard a blare of music coming from a building to his left. Knowing that his only chance would be to lose himself amongst other people, he turned and ran into the building. Trying to keep his silken skirts under control, he pushed his way through the door and was met by a blast of music and noise. He found himself in what looked like a bar, with dancing girls. For a moment he hesitated, unsure what to do, but then he heard the sound of running feet behind him. Quickly he pushed his way into the crowded room, trying to blend in. Suddenly he was pulled off his feet by a strong arm. Before he could react, he found himself in a close embrace, and was soundly kissed by a large man who smelt strongly of beer. Disgusted and humiliated, he was about to start to struggle when he saw two guards enter the room and looking around.
Knowing that if he made a scene he would be recognised and captured, he was forced to accept the man's kisses, and to look as if he was enjoying it. The two guards began to move slowly around the room, looking for the escaped Princess. The man's tongue began to probe his mouth, and Altan could feel the drunk's hand slide up between his legs, stroking and caressing the stockings and garters. He closed his eyes as the guards drew near, trying to blend in as much as possible. The drunk's hand was up inside his skirts, rubbing his silken panties. Altan squeaked involuntarily as the hand slid inside his knickers, and began to caress his maidenhood. Altan opened his eyes, and saw that the two guards had been intercepted by two very pretty girls, who were kissing and caressing them away from his hiding place. The guards didn't seem too unhappy about this, and were soon led off to an adjoining room. Once they were gone, Altan began to struggle to release himself from the embrace of the drunk. After a few moments, he managed to free himself despite the slurred protests of his suitor.
Whilst the guards were occupied, he decided to make a quick dash for the door. He had only taken a few steps however, when he was abruptly seized by two of the dancing girls. Not wanting to make a scene, which might attract the guard's attentions, he allowed them to pull him across the room and through a small side door. As soon as they had him through the door, they pulled his hands behind his back, and despite his struggles, chained them together. This was so embarrassing. As a man, even twenty women could not have forced him like this. He was taken down a long corridor, and pushed into another room. In the room, there was an older woman, seated behind a desk. She was flanked by two large women, who were so muscled, that they looked more like men.
"Why have you brought me here?" demanded Altan, trying to bluff his way out of the situation. "And how dare you chain me up like this, remove these shackles at once!"
The woman got up and walked over to Altan. She paused for a moment, then firmly took Altan by the chin, and slowly examined his beautiful feminine face, turning it slowly from side to side.
"So you're the one that brought the city guard into my establishment.....for that you must pay!".
The woman let her hand slip off Altan's chin, and run slowly down to her breasts. "There's no point you wasting either of our time by trying to bluff. I know who you really are. I have very good contacts in the palace. I know that you are on the run. The city guard would love to find you."
The woman walked back across the room and sat down at her desk.
"My name is Lady Madeline. I had to pay those guards to leave without reporting my establishment", she said. "I have no intention of making a loss because of you. Therefore, you will repay me."
She turned and nodded to one of the large women beside her. The huge woman walked over to Altan and quickly undid the shackles. Altan knew that he wouldn't just be allowed to leave, so he decided to see if he could talk his way out.
"What do you want me from me?" asked Altan in resignation.
"Well", said the woman, "I had to pay the two guards one thousand gold piece each, so you owe me that. However, the guards also scared away some of my customers, and that could prove to be quite expensive. So I think that a fair figure would be....at least ten thousand gold pieces. If you can't pay that right now, then I will take payment in kind."
"What do you mean by `in kind'", asked Altan with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"Well you're a pretty little thing", said the woman. "And once I spread the news of who you really are to some select clients, you should bring back a lot of that business I've lost because of you. Shall we say one hundred gold per satisfied customer? Once we take interest into account, you should be paid off in about a year."
"You can't be serious," shouted Altan.
"Well it's your choice!" replied the woman softly, "but I think you should consider the consequence of refusal. Your decision please, my dear."
"I won't do it," stated Altan. "I won't become a whore for anything".
"I admire your determination, "replied the woman. "But I think that we may be able to convince you....". She paused, thinking for a moment, then nodded to one of her henchwomen. The huge woman left the room, and returned a few seconds later with one of the dancing girls.
"This is Jeannine," said Madeline. "She is one of my girls. Unfortunately, she is getting older, and not attracting as many customers as before. Therefore--"
Without blinking, once of the henchwomen reached over, and grabbed the girl. With a quick twist, and a sickening crunch, the huge woman snapped the girl's neck. Altan gasped in horror at the sudden cold execution. As he watched in dismay, the girl was dragged out of the door. Seconds later, the henchwoman returned with another terrified girl.
"This is Serana. Another one of my girls--". Madeline nodded to her bodyguard. Altan realised that she was ordering the poor girl killed, just to demonstrate her resolve to him. He couldn't stand by and watch these people being killed because of him. The bodyguard took hold of the girl's neck.
"Wait!" he shouted.
Madeline held up her hand, stopping the henchwoman.
"My dear, are you willing to agree to my terms?"
Altan couldn't believe this was happening. He had only been on the run for a matter of minutes, and he had already been trapped again. Ever since the Warlord had captured him, he seemed to have lost control of his life. Somehow he had to get that control back, and take back his life. However, he knew that the woman would not wait forever for a decision from him. He also knew by looking into her eyes, that she would not hesitate to kill this girl and others if he refused her offer. It all came down to his warrior's oath. He couldn't let innocent people die because of him. He just had to hope that he could find someway out of the trap later. With a sigh, he nodded his acquiescence.
"Excellent decision", said the woman. "But let me warn you. I expect you to be suitably accommodating to my customers. If I get a bad report from any of them, I shall have to take measures." Without being told, Altan knew that the "other measures" would involve more deaths. Lady Madeline got up from her desk and moved around to Altan. She reached up and slowly ran her hand down over Altan's bare shoulder, and over his breasts.
"Lovely as this dress is", she said. "I think you need to be dressed in something more appropriate." She turned to one of her huge bodyguards. "Take her to the chambers, and get Helen to prepare her. Tell her that after tonight, I want her reserved for our special customers. For tonight though, she can experience the general population. There should just be time for her to make her debut tonight".
Numbed at how quickly he had been subdued again, Altan was led out of the room by one of the bodyguards. He was taken down a number of corridors, and was eventually shown into a large room, which was filled with clothes, make-up tables, and half-naked girls.
His male mind boggled at the display before him, but he was quickly brought back to reality as he felt another girl begin to remove his dress. Automatically, he jumped and tried to stop her, but a quick slap by the bodyguard reminded him of his place.
"I'll do this for you today", said the girl. He assumed that she must be the `Helen' that the woman had spoken about. "But in future, it's your duty to prepare yourself for the customers."
Helen stripped him of his dress and underwear, leaving him standing in just stockings and garters. Altan felt very uncomfortable being naked in front of so many women. Although he had the body of a beautiful woman, his mind was still very much male. The seamstress came back with a long red satin dress, but no underwear. When Altan hesitantly commented on this, she smiled and said that underwear would show up on this dress. Altan soon understood why. The dress was tight, and showed off every single curve of his new feminine body. The bodice was so tight that it made him breathless, and cut so low, that it showed off a huge amount of cleavage. The dress was long with a tight skirt that ran down to his ankles. He was forced to sit helplessly, as Helen slowly painted his nails red, and then applied make-up. She spent a lot of time on Altan's lips, ensuring that they looked full, moist and red.When she had finished, she began to instruct Altan in the day to day running of the house. Altan was given a very feminine looking room, which was filled with make-up and clothes. He was expected to sleep here, but also to "entertain" his customers here too. He was told to prepare himself each day, and to ensure that the customers were satisfied. Helen warned him again of the consequences of an unsatisfied customer. She also told him that all money from the customers should be turned over to her, and that Altan would be punished if he was found to be keeping any. By the end of the speech, Altan was thoroughly depressed. He could see no way out of the trap into which he had unwittingly fallen.Helen took him back to the main hall, and pointed out a group of men, sitting at a large table drinking and talking noisily. Altan, together with three other girls, were told to "entertain" them.He followed the other girls across the room, trying to avoid the unwanted attentions of the other customers. As he walked, he was very conscious of the tight satin dress that rubbed and whispered against his soft female body. Although he was fully dressed, he felt utterly naked under the hungry stares of the men in the room. He could feel their eyes burning into him as they mentally undressed him. All his life he had been a fighter, a warrior, a predator. Now, all that had been stripped from him. As the men's eyes ran over his body, taking in every delicious curve, he no longer felt like a predator, he felt much more like the prey. He finally reached the men's table, and saw that the three other girls had sat down with their chosen man. Once more, he wondered if he could go through with this. But he knew that until he could find a way to protect the others, he had to obey. He moved to the other man, and with a mental grimace, he slowly he slipped into the man's lap, his figure hugging dress showing off every luscious curve of his body. He could feel the pressure of the man's organ pushing against his bottom. His dress ran tightly down his legs, forcing them together, forcing him to feel the rubbing of his silk clad legs.
The man pulled him in close, forcing his lips against the unwilling girl's mouth. Altan forced himself to relax, knowing that if he didn't please this man, then innocents would die. He could feel the man's hand roaming over his body, until it reached his breast. The man began kissing Altan's neck as he caressed the soft luscious breasts. Slowly the man pushed Altan back until he was lying completely in the man's strong arms. Altan lay back, helplessly forced to experience the humiliation of giving himself to this man.
"No," he thought to himself. "It's worse than that. I'm not giving myself, I'm selling myself." His pretty eyes shut with the pain and humiliation, which was mingled tantalisingly with the eroticism and pleasure from his female body. He could hear the giggles and sound of pleasure coming from the others at the table. Knowing that he had no choice, he raised his arms, and enfolded them around his partner. He shifted uncomfortably, and heard the man moan with pleasure. He realised that in moving, he had unconsciously rubbed his bottom against the manhood. He could feel the organ continue to grow and press against him as the man became more aroused. The man began to squirm underneath him, grinding his manhood against the helpless prince.
Altan flushed with shame as the man continued to rub against him. The tight satin dress was like a second skin, allowing him to feel every sensation as the man used him. He felt trapped as the man continued to kiss, caress and rub against him. His mouth was invaded by the man's tongue, stifling any protest he could make.
Suddenly he felt himself lifted up in the man's strong arms. The man stood, and effortlessly started to carry Altan towards the bedchambers. Altan felt strangely vulnerable and he lay in the man's arms, helpless and feminine.
As he was carried, Altan couldn't help but notice the envious and appreciative stares of the other men in the room. One of them blew him a kiss, and Altan realised to his horror, that the beauty of his new body would guarantee him a long line of suitors. Just before he was carried through the door and out of the hall, he happened to see Lady Madeline standing across the hall looking at him. She had a smile on her face as she watched Altan carried from the room.
As Altan was carried, he could feel the man's hand on his bottom. It was somehow terribly violating to be touched in such a way. He could feel himself breathing heavily, as the shame of his plight became more apparent. He was carried quickly to a room, with a bed and silk sheets. The male placed him gently on the bed, and then slowly began to undo his trousers, looking at the helpless female with undisguised lust.
Something in Altan broke as he saw the look of hunger in the man's eyes. He knew that to the male, he wasn't a person, just an object of pleasure to be used. In horror and terror he scrambled away from the man to the top of the bed, huddling in a tight ball, staring at the man in fear. The man finished undressing, and ordered Altan to come closer. When Altan refused, he reached up and grabbed Altan's foot, pulling down the silk sheets. Altan tried to struggle, to kick the man, but the tightness of his satin dress prevented him from doing any damage. The man twisted Altan so that he was forced over onto his stomach, he then lunged forward and grabbed Altan's arms, and pinned them behind the girls back.
Altan moaned with dismay as the man slowly ran his hands over the helpless girl's body. He could feel the man slowly pushing his dress up, exposing a broad expanse of Altan's silk clad legs. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. Once more, the helplessness and indignity of being a female was forced home to him. The man had forced the dress right up Altan's legs, and he now used his knee to force the defenceless girl's legs apart. Altan gasped as the man's hand slid between his legs, cupping and rubbing his maidenhood. Once more his new female body betrayed him, and he could feel himself becoming wet with helpless feminine titillation.
"No, please don't do this," he whispered. He knew that it was useless, and it humiliated him to have to beg, but it was his only chance.
"Be silent", commanded the man. "I paid good money for you."
Altan screwed his eyes tightly shut as he felt the man lift him slightly. He could feel the man's organ as it moved between his legs, and then he felt the head of the organ push slowly inside him as the man mounted him from behind. The man began to thrust slowly inside the female, forcing moans of humiliation and titillation. Once the organ was inside him, a sense of utter defeat settled over Altan. His struggles stopped, and he felt the man release his arms and take a handful of his thick golden hair. He pulled on the hair, forcing Altan to bend his body upward from the bed with a cry of pain. The man then reached around, and took hold of the top of Altan's satin dress, pulling it down to expose his sumptuous feminine breasts.
Altan could feel the man thrusting deeper inside him. For some reason, having the man inside him seemed to rob him of all his will to resist. He could feel himself getting excited as the organ rubbed up against him, forcing waves of pleasure through his body. The man began to thrust faster, forcing unwilling gasps of pleasure as he raped Altan. He began to move with the man as he was penetrated deeply, forced by his feminine form to respond to the dominant male.
With a final thrust, the man shot his seed inside the powerless girl. Altan gasped as he felt the seed enter him, fulfilling his feminine body. The man continued to thrust for a few more seconds before withdrawing with a groan. Altan lay face down on the bed, physically drained by the experience. His ordeal was not over however. As the man rolled over and lay down beside Altan, he ordered the girl to clean his manhood with her mouth. Utterly defeated and half-naked, Altan moved slowly down to the man's organ and began to lick it clean. His shame was complete, he thought, as the aroused man's organ began to slowly grow under his tender ministrations. The man reached down and took the girl by her chin, looking deep into her eyes.
"Oh baby, this is going to be a fun night," he whispered to the defeated prince.
Altan awoke the next morning to find the man gone, and the bedside table covered in money. The memory of the previous night came flooding back to him, filling him with shame. The man had fully intended to get his moneys worth, and had forced Altan to undergo a night of sex and passion. Altan had been forced to behave as a female, forced to allow the man to do whatever he wanted to him. Time and again, Altan thought that the man had been satisfied, only to be forced to perform again. The money on the table only confirmed his shame, filling him with the knowledge that he had sold his body.
The next few days were the worst moments of Altan's life. He was forced into a life as a whore, compelled to perform for any man who could pay for him. After the first few times, his spirit had been broken to such a degree that he had almost come to accept his situation. Lady Madeline and Helen told him that the more he pleased the men, the more they would pay and the quicker he would be free. Though he hated himself for it, he began to voluntarily use his mouth to excite and encourage men. He found that if he worked hard, and dressed in sexy lingerie to please the men, they would often tip him with double his normal fee.
The other girls took pity on Altan, and although they constantly mocked him about being a female and a whore, they also helped him to adapt and accept his situation. Serana, the girl he had saved from Madeline, took particular care of him, helping him to dress and to put on make up and jewellery. The girls seemed to think that it was about time a man was made to pay for what his sex did to women. They delighted in dressing Altan in women's clothes, knowing the humiliation and shame he felt. They enjoyed having a male helplessly forced to live like them, forced to wear sensuous lingerie and to service other men. The second day, they decided that he would look good as a red head, and so they dyed his hair. For Altan, it was another example of how he had lost control of his life. Altan found that as he lived as a female, he was slowly becoming more like one. He found himself holding his body in feminine poses, and feeling "feminine" feelings of fear and vulnerability.
Three days after he had fallen into Madeline's power, she came to him and ordered him to prepare himself for a very special client. Altan was taken by Helen, and specially prepared according to the client's orders. She firstly bathed him in special oils, which made his skin a smooth as silk. He was dressed in an expensive pink silk and lace camisole and panty set, with matching garters and stockings. His make-up was carefully done to highlight his beautifully high cheekbones and eyes. His lips were painted a soft pretty pink, that gave them a full, kissable appearance. Finally he was taken to a room and was ordered to lie down on the silk bed. As soon as he was on the bed, Helen took some pink silk scarves, and despite his protests, tied his wrists firmly to the bedposts. Helpless, Altan could do nothing to stop Helen as she gently slid a pink silk blindfold over his pretty eyes, blinding him completely.
Helen ignored Altan's frantic questions, and he heard her quietly close the door as she left the room. Altan lay there breathing heavily. He could feel his sumptuous breasts heaving under the silk of his camisole. He licked his lips nervously, and tasted the feminine taste of lipstick. Altan felt very vulnerable, bound and blinded, awaiting his new client. He had no idea who the client was, but it was obviously someone of importance, since his orders for Altan had been followed completely.
Suddenly Altan heard the door open again. He strained his ears to catch the slightest sound, and was soon painfully aware of the sound of his own pounding heart and heaving breasts. He could hear the sound of footsteps crossing the room, and he shifted uneasily, feeling the silk of his camisole rubbing against him.
"Who's there?" he whispered, his pretty feminine voice cracking with fear.
The visitor did not reply, but gently placed a single finger on Altan's lips to silence the frightened girl. The finger slid slowly off Altan's lips, and ran casually over his chin, down his neck and breasts. The hand continued over the camisole and slipped down to Altan's lacy panties before stopping to caress the tops of his silk stockings. Altan shuddered at the erotic touch, strangely excited by the hand.
The Baron sat on the end of the bed, and began to stroke his helpless prize. He was pleased to see the effect that his touch had on the helpless female. He found it difficult to believe that this was really his old "friend" Prince Altan lying helpless before him.
He had grown up with Altan, and had always been forced into the background by the prince. Everyone had always seemed to favour Altan over him. Inside he had raged at the inequity of being regarded as second best simply because Altan was the heir to the throne of Aloria. For years he had been forced to follow where Altan led, and to obey Altan's orders.
Now his time of revenge was at hand. He had made a deal with the Warlord, and had secretly betrayed Altan's war-plans, enabling the Warlord to conquer Aloria. The Warlord knew that he wouldn't be able to control Aloria if all of its people were against him. The country was too big, and he needed his soldiers for further conquests, not tied down trying to control a rebellious province.
Ideally he needed Aloria's huge population and resources to support his wars, not fight against him. He had intended to marry Altan and gain control of the country that way. But the Baron had finally convinced the Warlord that the Alorian people would never follow him, even if he were married to Altan. He suggested that the Warlord needed a puppet king to rule for him, someone that the people would follow. Ideally the person should be of Royal blood, but that was impossible. The only survivor of the Royal house was Altan, and he would never rule for the Warlord. The Baron had therefore suggested a compromise. He was well known by the Alorian people, and they would follow him if he were married into the Royalty.
The Warlord had eventually agreed after having his way with the female Altan. The Baron had promised that he would mobilise Aloria's resources in support of the Warlord's wars.
There were two main problems with the plan. The magic spell to transform Altan into a female would require his agreement. This was the easy part. The Baron knew that Altan's "heroic" nature and warrior's oath would force him to sacrifice his body for his people and country. Inside he laughed derisively at the Prince. He had always strutted around, secure in his reputation as a heroic knight. Now he was lying on his back, in a female body dressed in pink silk, tied to a bed, and waiting to be taken as a woman.
The marriage part was more difficult. Traditionally, for the marriage to be accepted by the people, Altan would have to voluntarily agree his marriage vows in front of the elders of the ruling council. A forced marriage would not recognised by either the people of Aloria or the church.
To achieve the voluntary agreement, the Baron had developed a plan. Altan would "escape" the Warlord, and once free, he would be rescued by the Baron. The Baron would suggest to Altan that the people would not follow a woman, but that if Altan agreed to a symbolic marriage, then Altan could rule through him. The Baron was sure that Altan would believe his old friend, and would fall into the trap. Once the marriage was complete, the power would be in the Baron's hands, and Altan would be his helpless wife.
He ran his hand up the silk clad body, rubbing the silky camisole against the sumptuous feminine breasts. He had added the time in the whorehouse to help break Altan's spirit. He intended to "rescue" Altan tomorrow, but he couldn't resist this night with his former rival. He had ordered Altan to be prepared for him. He had wanted his former rival degraded as much as possible, by making him wear pink silky lingerie, and tied blindfolded to the bed.
He looked again at the luscious female form before him. The luxurious pink lingerie highlighting the delightfully feminine appearance. His hand continued to roam over the defenceless body, eventually moving down between the girl's legs. He gently opened the girl's silk encased legs, knowing that she could not resist. Leaving the feminine legs spread, his hand ran deliberately up the inside of the girl thigh. He could hear the girl breathing heavily and he touched the silk of her panties, tenderly rubbing it against her maidenhood. He smiled broadly as Altan let out a moan of pleasure, and began to move almost unconsciously against his hand.
Slowly he let his finger trace the outline of the defenceless girl's garters and panties, moving up to run over the spaghetti straps of her camisole. He wanted to outline to Altan the image of the silken lingerie that covered his body.
Leaning over, he kissed the girl's luscious fill lips. Gently at first, but then more demanding, finally pushing his tongue through the still slightly unwilling lips. He enjoyed the slight resistance that his former friend offered. Even now, Altan had not fully accepted his new role, but that just made the victory all the sweeter.
He slipped his hand up under the girl's silk camisole, and began to softly massage her breasts. They were soft and sumptuous, and quick to respond to his ministrations.
Altan lay helplessly tied to the bed, blind to the person caressing his soft feminine body. Whoever the man was, he was skilled at arousing a woman, and Altan was finding it increasingly difficult to avoid responding to his touch. He felt utterly relaxed as the man's hands continued to roam freely over his lingerie clad body. He moaned and squirmed as the man's hand moved again between his spread legs, massaging his maidenhood with the silk of his panties. He let out a slight cry as the man's hand moved inside the panties, and began to run teasing over him. He couldn't help himself now, and began to squirm against the man's hand desperately trying to satisfy his growing desires.
The Baron wanted to laugh out loud as he saw Altan overwhelmed by the desires of his new body. This was going to be much easier than he had originally thought. He decided that Altan was now at his peak of feminine excitement, and that the time had come. Slowly he pulled the skimpy silk panties down Altan's curvaceous female hips, and then down his long shapely legs. Altan was completely overwhelmed by his feminine desires, and offered no resistance as the man moved up between his open legs.
Altan could feel the man between his legs, rubbing sensuously against the silk of his stockings. The feeling was driving him mad with desire, and only the man leaning over to kiss his lips prevented him from begging his unseen master to hurry.
He found himself rubbing his legs against the man, and trying to wrap them around him. At last he felt the man's organ touch him, and he strained against his bindings. The Baron continued to toy with him for a moment, enjoying seeing the so-called "great warrior" reduced to this, before thrusting inside.
Altan gasped aloud as he finally felt the man enter him. His body was crying out for satisfaction, and he immediately began to move with the man. He could feel the man's hands as the pushed up under the soft silk of his camisole to caress and massage his breasts. The delicate silk of his blindfold took away his sight, but that just seemed to enhance the feelings coming from his female body. His entire being became focused on the feelings of the man's hands fondling his breasts, and his organ pulsing and thrusting inside. The organ filled him, opening his innermost sanctum, and exposing his most feminine desires. He willingly kissed the man, accepting the man's superiority and dominance. The man moved slowly inside him, bringing the helpless woman to a peak of sexual excitement. Altan was becoming used to having sex like this, and was now automatically accepting his role. It felt so right to have a man's organ inside him. He felt totally contented, brought to his peak of sexual fulfilment as a female. It would be so much easier and more pleasurable to accept his feminine role, and to forget his former life. The organ continued to move inside him, and he writhed and squirmed as he reached orgasm. The Baron loved the titillating feeling of his former rival, gasping and wriggling under him, deeply penetrated by his manhood. He began to thrust harder as he reached his own peak. Altan was crying out helplessly, as the Baron suddenly shot his seed inside his curvaceous female body.
Altan was utterly drained by the physical and emotional stress, and lay motionless as he felt to man withdraw from his body. He wondered if the man would untie him before he left, but then he heard the man get up from the bed, dress and leave. His naked body was beaded with sweat, and the echoes of the passion still ran through his body, as he heard the door open again a few minutes later. He turned his head slightly trying to identify if it was the man back again. The bed moved slightly and he heard a tinkle of jewellery as his new guest lay down beside him. Soft fingers reached up, and ran slowly over his lips, before gently removing the blindfold.
His blinked in the light and recognised the pretty face of Serana smiling down at him.
"Did we enjoy ourselves?" she asked mischievously.
Altan flushed with embarrassment as he realised that his was still tied naked to the bed.
"Umm, do you think you could untie me?" asked Altan.
"Maybe later," she replied as she slowly began to run he hand down Altan's voluptuous naked body.
Altan was preparing himself for the evening in his room. He found that with the help of the other girls, he was becoming much better at applying make-up, and styling his beautiful long red hair. As he ran his hairbrush through his silken tresses, he went over the events of the previous day. He was still somewhat confused in his mind about his feelings for other women. Certainly, part of his mind was still male enough to be attracted by the attentions of a pretty woman like Serana, but his mind also had female influences too.
Serana had refused to take no for an answer, and had spent almost an hour enjoying Altan's feminine body before eventually untying the helpless prince. Not that Altan hadn't enjoyed her ministrations, but he knew that he received more pleasure from a male. The fact worried him more than he wanted to admit. He couldn't deny to himself that he was enjoying sex as a female far more than he would ever had believed. He loved the way the female orgasm didn't peak and stop like a male. The female version just seemed to roll onwards, growing in intensity and depth. The feeling of a man's organ deep inside him was by far the most erotic and sensual experience he had ever had.
It also worried him that despite his earlier intentions to find a way to escape this place, he had yet to even try to plan an escape. He felt very comfortable here, and although he hated to admit it to himself, he was coming to enjoy his life as a female.
He shook himself out of his daydreaming, and continued to prepare himself for the evening. He had been told to make and extra effort tonight, and his client was supposed to be someone important.
He quickly finished his hair and make up, and slipped into a tight emerald green satin dress. The other girls and told him that the green dress would go well with his new red hair, and he had to admit that he did look very sexy. The dress was strapless, and very low cut. It had a long slit up one side, which showed off his silk stockinged legs. Under the dress he was just wearing a strapless slip. Altan wasn't sure how the slip and dress stayed up. When he asked one of the other girls, she had simply replied "will-power". Once dressed he slipped on a pair of stiletto shoes. Though he still felt a little unstable in them, his skill at walking in them was definitely improving.
He was a little late, so he hurried out of his room, and headed towards the assembly room. When he arrived, he saw that Lady Madeline was looking for him. He hurried over, and curtseyed demurely. Lady Madeline smiled at his feminine posture and turned him around so that she could tie a green silk bow in his long silky red hair.
"You're looking lovely this evening, my dear." She commented.
"Thank you mistress." replied Altan, slipping easily into his submissive role.
"Your client tonight is a most important man. It's critical that you please him." ordered Madeline.
"I'll do my best," answered Altan obediently.
Madeline finished tying the bow in his hair, and led him across the room to a tall broad man standing with his back to them. She reached up, and touched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Baron, may I introduce Elana to you" announced Lady Madeline.
Altan stared in shock as the man turned around and smiled at him. The Baron was an old friend of his, someone he had spent much of his childhood with. His first thought was one of shame at being seen in his feminine form. However, he quickly realised that the Baron would not recognise him as he was now. He was then struck by two further thoughts. The first was that the baron might be able to help him out of his current situation. The second was that the baron was expecting this beautiful girl in front of him to service his needs with her body.
He felt Lady Madeline nudge him and he realised that he was standing gawking at the Baron. He quickly composed himself, and decided that until he determined what he was going to do, the best plan was to play along.
The Baron reached over and gently took his hand and kissed it. Altan found himself flushing girlishly as his childhood friend's lips touched his delicate white hand.
The Baron released his hand and gestured towards to entertainment rooms.
"Shall we?" he asked.
Altan, still blushing, nodded his acceptance, and took the Baron's arm and allowed the man to guide him toward the bedrooms.
As he walked, he decided that he had to tell his former friend of his predicament. He was sure that the honourable Baron would help him. He knew it would be embarrassing and humiliating to tell the Baron what had happened to him, but he knew he had to take the chance.
As soon as the door was closed, he began to blurt out his story. The Baron tried to look sceptical as the former prince blurted out his humiliating story. He made the Prince go over the story a few times, and asked some questions to make him prove his identity. Eventually he pretended to let the girl persuade him.
Altan gasped with relief, as the Baron finally seemed to accept his story. For the first time in days, he felt that his situation might have a way out.
The Baron decided that the time had come to offer Altan a way out of the whorehouse. He knew that Altan would accept his terms if it meant escaping from here.
"Well, my dear--er--Altan. I think the first thing is to get you out of here. Go and collect your things, whilst I arrange to pay off your debt." Said the Baron.
"I don't really have any things" replied Altan nervously.
"I see, well we shall have to get you some clothes. I'm sure we can arrange for a dress maker to come to my castle" answered the Baron.
Altan started to protest that he would prefer to wear trousers, but the Baron was already heading for the door. He was sure that he could talk to the Baron later, and persuade him.
The baron was gone for a few minutes. When he returned, he had a long green silk robe that he put around Altan's shoulders.
"Come," he said. "My carriage is just outside".
The journey was a long one, and Altan found that the relief of being rescued had left him exhausted. Without realising it, he slipped off into sleep, and was only awoken as he felt the baron pick him up and carry him into the castle.
He felt a little awkward and embarrassed at being carried, but he could quite think how he could ask the baron to put him down without embarrassing both of them. The Baron carried him straight to a bedroom, and laid him down on the bed. When Altan started to speak, he stopped him and said that he should get some rest and that they would talk in the morning.
As the baron left, two maids appeared with a long silk night-dress. Altan did not want to wear the silken dress, but he didn't want to tell the maids who he was. In the end he decided that it was easier to wear the dress, and then to talk to the baron in the morning. He allowed the maids to slip the dress over his head, and then crawled into bed. He was still tired, and was asleep in minutes.
When Altan awoke in the morning, he took a deep breath. He felt that the long nightmare was finally coming to an end. He had been so lucky that the baron had found him. He decided that he would make sure that the baron was fully repaid for the huge debt that Altan now owed him.
As he looked around the room, he became aware that it was a girl's room. There were stuffed toys, and the bed had frills and lace. He wondered why the baron had put him in this room, but then decided that it must be because he didn't want Altan's identity to be known.
He got out of bed, and immediately became aware of the silk night-dress. Somehow it embarrassed him more to be wearing women's clothes in his old friends house, than it had before. He got up and wondered what he should do. He decided that the first order of business was to get out of this night-dress, and into some daytime close, preferably some trousers.
He opened the wardrobes and draws, but could only find female clothes. It was so frustrating. He knew that the Baron had meant well, but surely he should have thought to arrange some appropriate clothes.
He was still searching for something to wear, when there was a polite know at the door, and a maid stepped inside the room.
"Good morning, milady" said the girl as she curtseyed.
Altan mumbled a reply, not quite sure how to respond. The Baron had obviously not told his staff who their visitor was.
The maid moved around the room, preparing a bath, and laying out clothes. Altan watched in dismay as the maid laid out a pretty pink dress, with lacy sleeves and tiny satin flowers on the bodice. Eventually, he decided that he had to say something.
"Umm,.I don't suppose that I could see the Baron before getting dressed?" he asked.
The maid looked scandalised at the thought of the Baron meeting with a lady in her night-clothes.
"I'm afraid not. The Baron left early this morning. He said that he had to see the other members of the Alorian council about something. He did say to look after you, and he did leave you this note." Said the maid fishing into her apron. She produced a letter, and handed it to Altan.
Altan ripped the envelope open, and quickly read the contents.
"My old friend,
I have left to talk to the remaining members of the Alorian council. Hopefully they will believe who you are, and will summon a council meeting.
In the meantime, it is essential that we keep your identity a secret. You must remain at my castle, and must not draw attention to yourself. I have taken the liberty of spreading the word that you are my fiancée, it should help stop rumours.
I should return within two weeks.
Regards your loyal servant.
Altan sighed to himself. The Baron made sense, he had to hide from the Warlord, but it meant that for the next week he would have to pretend to be the Baron's lover, and he had to remain inconspicuous. He looked again at the frilly pink dress lying on the bed. Oh well, he thought, two weeks wouldn't be too bad, and then hopefully the Alorian council would be able to find a way to transform him back to his original body.
He nodded to the maid, and slowly began to undress for his bath.
The next week passed slowly, and for most of it he was terribly bored. The maids assumed that he would be happy to spend the time with women's pastimes, and he soon found himself sewing flowers onto petticoats.
He tried to go riding, thinking that it would, at least, be a more masculine pursuit, but he soon found himself wearing a feminine riding coat, and being helped on his horse -- side saddle!
Each day the maids laid out beautiful gowns that would have thrilled a young lady who was betrothed to a wealthy Baron, but to Altan it was all very embarrassing. The maids insisted that he be measured for new dresses, and he found himself spending hours dressed only in his underwear, as the maids fussed around him.
With no male interests, he soon found himself falling more into his role, and often caught himself behaving naturally as a female. His life as a male seemed to slip further away from him, and it almost seemed like a dream now. He was so used to wearing silk dresses and lacy underwear that he found it difficult to remember what it had been like to wear armour and rough masculine clothes.
The maids also liked to gossip, and they pressed him for details of his relationship with the Baron. Knowing that he had to keep up the pretence, Altan was forced to make up stories of the Baron's courtship, and insist that he longed for the Baron to return. He told of the Barons passionate embrace, and how he loved him dearly.
By the second week he was actively participating in the dressmaking, and was even making suggestions of how to improve the designs. He found it quite fun to try on different clothes, and to be involved in the female circle of gossip. He allowed the maids to give him different hairstyles, and to try out new make up styles on him. He was quite shocked when one day he realised that he had not thought about being a male all day.
The second week passed quite quickly, and he was almost surprised when the maid came to his room to inform him that the baron had returned. He quickly allowed the maid to dress him in a pretty blue satin dress, and then rushed downstairs as fast as his petticoats would allow.
When he entered the room with the Baron, the man immediately stood and embraced him.
"My love", said the Baron. "I have missed you so much"
Altan was very shocked when the man then kissed him passionately. However, he realised that this would be normal behaviour for a man returning to his loving fiancée, and so submitted to the ardent kiss. By the time the Baron released him, he felt quite breathless and weak at the knees.
The Baron smiled at the slight flush on Altan's pretty female face, and decided to make the humiliation even worse.
"My dear," he said. "You are even more beautiful than I remembered."
The sight of Altan blushing even further rewarded him.
Altan squirmed in the Barons arms, and finally broke free.
"How did your meeting with the council go, my lord?" he asked pointedly.
The Baron nodded to the servants, indicating that he wanted to be alone. After a few moments the servants had left the room, quietly closing the door behind them. When they were alone, the Baron turned back to Altan.
"Sorry about that, but we had to make it look convincing" he said.
Altan nodded, but he still felt slightly flushed.
"However, I have some bad news," continued the Baron. I have spoken with the best wizards in Aloria, and the general verdict seems to be that the spell is permanent. I'm afraid that you may never regain your former body."
Altan sat down heavily. He had dreaded this news. He felt quite faint with shock. He tried to take deep breaths, but was prevented by his tight corset. Slowly everything went black, and he fainted into the baron's arms.
The Baron could hardly stop himself from laughing out loud. Here was the great Prince Altan, dressed in women's clothes and prettily fainting. A more feminine response to the news could hardly be imagined. Of course, he had bribed a number of wizards to make such a statement. The council had not thought to check. The Baron was supposed to be Prince Altan's friend, why would he lie? He carried the female prince across the room, and laid him down on the couch.
When Altan slowing regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the couch, with the Baron sat beside him. He felt slightly dizzy, and very frail.
"What happened?" he asked weakly.
You fainted, I'm afraid" replied the Baron. "I'm sure the news was quite a shock. Nothing to be ashamed of."
Altan closed his eyes, and heard the Baron's words again "..you may never regain your former body."
"What am I going to do?" he asked helplessly.
The Baron had been waiting for this moment. Altan was at his weakest now, and would probably seize any opportunity to hold onto some part of his former life.
"You are still the only remaining member of the Royal family, you could still lead our country. I would support your claim" said the Baron.
Altan shook his head.
"Thank you my old friend, but the council will never follow a woman, even if she was formerly a man!" he replied sadly.
The Baron pretended to think for a moment.
"There is another option, but I'm almost too ashamed to say," he said carefully.
"Tell me," ordered Altan. "It can't make things any worse."
The Baron nodded reluctantly.
"Well," he started. "You are right, the council will not follow a woman, that would go against all our peoples customs. What we need therefore, is someone who could be a front man for you. It would have to be someone you trust, who could follow your orders and rule for you."
Altan though about that idea. It made sense, but it would have to be someone he could trust completely. He knew that someone had betrayed his war plans to the enemy, and that person had to have been on the council. Therefore he couldn't trust any of them. On the other hand, the Baron had rescued him, and seemed to be doing everything he could to help. Maybe the Baron could front for him?
"Why would the council follow that person though?" asked Altan.
"The person would need some moral authority to lead. Without a member of the royalty to lead us, our people will fragment into petty factions. The front man would need to have a link to royalty to unite the people," said the Baron.
"But I'm the only member of the royalty left, no one else has any links to the Royalty," said Altan in a confused voice.
"That is true, therefore, the only answer to for you to create a link. My prince, you need to marry!"
"MARRY!!??!!!" shouted Altan. "You have to be joking, I don't intend to be anyone's wife."
"Of course not," said the Baron brusquely. "That would be understood. But the marriage would be in name only. The man would gain the moral authority, and you would gain indirect power to the country again."
Altan shook his head.
"I'm not sure, I need time to think about it," He said slowly.
"Of course," replied the Baron. "You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish. However, you should be aware that the longer you delay, the more our people fragment, and the more difficult it will be to regain control. It is your duty to do what is right for the people."
Altan shook his head in confusion. It had all happened too fast, and he had not been able to consider what had happened to him objectively. He had to do what was right for his people, but he couldn't think straight. In desperation, he turned to the Baron.
"Tell me what to do" he begged.
The Baron looked into Altan's pretty green eyes.
"Marry me, " he said. "I will rule for you, and put you in your rightful place."
Altan hesitated, still unsure what to do.
"It's your duty to your people. Remember your oath!" insisted the Baron.
The word "duty" broke through Altan's daze. All this had begun because he had a duty. If he failed now, then all he had gone through would have been worthless. Almost as if it were a dream, he heard himself speaking.
"Yes, I will marry you!"
Altan stood outside the chapel, with his bridesmaids fussing around him, arranging his long silken train. He was dressed in his stunningly beautiful wedding dress, moments away from marrying the Baron.
He thought back over the events of the last week, and wondered again if he was doing the right thing. After he had accepted the baron's proposal, the whole house had become a hive of activity to prepare for the wedding.
Somehow he had found that after accepting the Baron's proposal, any control he had over the situation had slipped slowly away. The Baron had subtly taken complete control, and he had been relegated to watching helplessly as everything was organised around him. He had found himself begging the Baron to be allowed to wear male clothes, but the Baron had refused saying that he still needed to be hidden from the Warlord. He had insisted that once they were married and the rebellion had begun, then he would be allowed to wear trousers again. He had argued, but somehow it was as if he had already surrendered his power to the man. He eventually gave in, and spent the rest of the week dressed in pretty silken skirts, corsets and lingerie.
There had been a number of council meetings at the Baron's castle, but Altan had not been admitted to their proceedings. The Baron had explained that the council would not accept women in the decision making. However, he insisted that he was fighting for what Altan wanted. Altan was therefore forced to wait outside, dressed in feminine clothes for the Baron to emerge.
With his impending marriage to the Alorian royalty, the Baron had quickly assumed control of the council. It had been easy to mould the council's policies, and to keep them away from the former prince. As soon as the marriage was complete, he would be the legal ruler of the country, and then he could drop his pretence to Altan. He was looking forward to his wedding night, when he would again be able to sample the delights of Altan's helpless feminine body.
Another argument had arisen over the wedding itself. Altan wanted a small ceremony, with only a few witnesses, but the Baron had insisted that to make the people follow him, and larger ceremony would be necessary. He had also insisted that Altan wear a traditional wedding gown, with a long bustle and train. Altan had protested, but the Baron had insisted saying that it was important that they stick to the traditions of his people in this time of trouble. He had used the same argument over the vows that they would make. Altan had wanted to simply vow to be faithful to the marriage, but the Baron had insisted on the old wording, where Altan would pledge to "Give all that was his", and to "Love, honour and obey". Eventually Altan had agreed to wear the gown, as long as he swore his own vows. The only other argument that Altan had won, was in the choice of his bridesmaid. Even there, he had only been able to pick one, and for some strange reason he had decided to pick Serana from Lady Madeline's establishment.
The bridesmaids continued to fuss around him, and he was reminded of the many hours that he had spent modelling for the dressmakers.
The dress was truly stunning. Made from the finest pure white silk, it ran low over his shoulders with an exquisite lacy fringe and pretty puffy sleeves. It had a very tight bodice, which was covered in sparkling pearls. His waist was tiny, since the maids had laced him tightly into a corset. He wasn't sure whether his breathlessness was due to the impending wedding, or the tightness of his corset. His breasts had been lifted by the corset and dress, presenting an impressive cleavage. The dress had a full skirt, with many petticoats and a tight satin underskirt. The outer skirt had been gathered up prettily, looping around the dress and edged with lace and pearls. Finally, there was a full bustle and a long train. His face was covered with a light veil, and he was wearing a pretty white silk and lace bow in his long flowing hair. He was wearing the Baron's family jewellery. Matching pearl necklace, earrings and bracelets adorned his beautiful body. In short, he looked every inch the perfect blushing bride. The maids had given him a slight blush when they had done his make up, and he knew that it made him look particularly vulnerable.
He couldn't quite believe that he was doing this. He had always intended to marry, but he had never once thought that it would be him as the bride wearing the beautiful gown. Yet here he was, the picture of every man's fantasy, preparing to walk up the isle dressed in a beautiful princess's wedding gown.
He heard the music start inside, and he knew that any second the door would open and he would be led inside by his bridesmaids. Serana took her place beside him, dressed in a pretty pink bridesmaid's dress. She looked over and smiled in encouragement.
"Don't worry," she said. "It's not as if you don't know him."
"What do you mean?" whispered back Altan.
"At Lady Madeline's," whispered Serana in reply as the doors swung open.
Before Altan could reply, he found himself walking slowly up the isle towards the priest and his soon-to-be husband. What did Serana mean, thought Altan? The only time he had met the Baron at Madeline's was when he had rescued him.
Before he could think of an answer, he had arrived at the altar. The Baron reached across and gently lifted the veil from his face.
"You look beautiful," he whispered truthfully.
Altan could feel himself blushing prettily, as the Baron's eyes devoured his silk clad form. Before he could form a reply, the elderly priest began the service.
Much of the service was a blur to Altan. All he could think of was the shame of appearing before all his people dressed as a female, and pledging himself to the baron. Serana's last words kept coming back to him, but he could not think why they were important. Finally the moment of truth arrived. He listened as the Baron swore his vows.
"Do you, Baron Vord of Aloria hearby swear that you will keep and protect Princess Elana of Aloria. If you should fail in this vow, then all the power of the gods will turn against you" intoned the priest.
"I do," answered the Baron in a strong voice.
Altan looked up in surprise. He had wanted his real name to be used in this ceremony, but the priest had just called him Princess Elana. If he swore this vow, it would mean he had accepted this new feminine name. However, before he could do anything, the priest had turned to him.
"Do you Princess Elana of Aloria swear to love, honour and obey Baron Vord. Forsaking your own possessions, and give all that is yours to him? If you should fail in this vow, then all the power of the gods will turn against you" intoned the priest "
Altan hesitated, unsure what to do. This was not what he had agreed with the Baron. These were the traditional vows of a wife to her husband.
He looked at the Baron in confusion, but the Baron just shrugged his shoulders indicating that the priest had got the vows wrong. He nodded to Altan to continue anyway.
Altan hesitated even more. This wasn't what he wanted. In desperation he looked at Serana, but she didn't know what was wrong and just nodded in encouragement. He could hear the congregation growing restless with his delay. He had to make a decision. He knew that if he refused the make the vow, it would destroy the Baron's hold on the council, and the council itself would fragment. His hopes of a united Aloria against the Warlord would be over. He looked again at the Baron, who nodded encouragingly. Finally, his heading still spinning in confusion, he made his decision.
"I do," he said in a small feminine voice.
"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride" pronounced the priest.
Originally Altan, now Elana, had not wanted to include this part of the ceremony, but he suddenly found himself in the Baron's arms, a passionate kiss on his lips. He tried to break away, but the Baron held him tightly. He didn't want to struggle too hard in front of the congregation, and so he was forced to submit to the embrace.
Eventually the Baron broke off, and allowed him the step back. He took Elana by the hand and led her down the isle. Elana found herself blushing as the congregation clapped and commented how pretty she was. Eventually they reached the end, and passed through the door leaving them alone. Elana turned to the Baron angrily.
"That wasn't the ceremony we agreed on!" she raged.
"Now, now Elana, don't get so uptight." He soothed.
"Don't call me that, my name is Altan" argue the former prince.
"No it isn't," returned the Baron in a hard voice. "When you swore that oath, you took that name. I expect you to behave properly princess."
"What do you mean?" whispered Elana suddenly scared.
The Baron moved forward and seized the beautiful but scared princess.
"You voluntarily promised, under threat from the gods, to love, honour and obey me. I now have your title and kingdom. Tonight you can make good your promise to love. I enjoyed you at Lady Madeline's, but now you're mine alone. You used to look down on me when you were a prince, but you have now vowed to obey me. Therefore, my first order to you is to call yourself Elana. You are my wife and you will act as such. From now until the day you die, I want to see you only in dresses and skirts and acting in a feminine manner. I will enjoy you whenever I wish, and as my wife you will do your best to please me. Don't worry, I will protect you. After all, you are going to be the mother of my children."
He suddenly pulled Elana forward into a tight embrace, and kissed her passionately, his hands roaming over her soft silk clad feminine body. Physically dominated, and constrained by her vow, Elana's resistance faded and she allowed the man to kiss her. In her mind, her last thoughts of resistance disappeared, and she finally accepted her new position. Prince Altan was gone, only Princess Elana remained. Tears flowed down her pretty face as the Baron lifted her and carried her from the chapel towards her new life in his bedchambers.