The Princess Transformed - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Queen

Gladia stretched and yawned like a cat. There was nothing like a good fucking to clear the mind and relax the body. The resistance had been as good as its word. They had led her to an adjoining chamber from the main hall where several eager slavers and slaves had been waiting to ravage her. And ravage her they did. She had been used thoroughly in each hole until she had orgasmed into blissful slumber. Her itch had been well and fully scratched, and now she was ready to begin to the next day's work.

She rolled out of the bed, which was nice of because she had been getting bored of having sex on rugs, and opened the door leading back to the main hall. Unsurprisingly, a hooded figure was there waiting for her. 

"Good morning, your Highness. We trust your sleep has been restful."

Gladia nodded. She was about to thank the hooded figure for providing the men with which she had sated her urges, but then thought the better of it. Why should she thank them? The men were probably more than happy to have serviced her, and she was probably being used to pay off another unseen debt. There was no point in useless gratitude. So, she simply fixed the figure with a steady gaze and continued to play the waiting game.

The figure spoke again, unaware, or uncaring, of what she was thinking. "Queen Gladia. We have a task, that only you can perform."

Something in her snapped, and she found herself spitting out an angry retort before she was even aware of doing so. "And what would that be? You want me to fuck more of your minions? Or slavers? You are not content with ordering my children around as you see fit, and now you want me to dance at your heels as well?"

The figure appeared unfazed at her outburst, extending a single gloved hand in an appeasing motion. "Be at ease, your Majesty. We understand that how we have treated you and your children could be seen as cavalier. Rest assured that have no intentions other than making the full use of your unique talents. You do have needs that must be attended to, and we have only tried out best to see to them as readily as possible."

Gladia tamped down on her rage. The more rational part of her realized the truth in the figure's comments. As a former ruler herself, she well understood the need to maximize the use of one's resources, and how to best make use of each person's skills and talents. But, there was another part of her that had had enough with being pushed around and treated like a slave, no matter that she actually was at the moment. Despite what she looked now, she was The Queen of Erecia, and she would be accorded the respect that she was due. Except the reality of the situation was that while the resistance recognized her claim to the throne, she was in no position to give orders, and she knew it. So, she let her indignation simmer and motioned for the figure to continue.

"There is someone that we would like you to meet. A mage of some power and skill, who will be essentially in our efforts to overthrow Rampillion. You are to convince him to join our cause."

Gladia arched one dark eyebrow. "Why do you need me to do this? Why not simply ask him yourself?" Her anger had faded somewhat, but not vanished entirely.

"Queen Gladia, we are in an alliance, are we not? Each of us must do our part to overthrow the usurper. We can marshal forces that you presently cannot. But you have skills that we do not possess. Namely, that of negotiation and parley. Therefore, we must beg your aid in this manner."

Whether it was just an act, or an honest appraisal of her talents, Gladia allowed herself to be appeased. It had been some time before anyone had noticed her talents in other areas besides sucking and fucking of late, and it was a good to hear respect paid, whether stemming from artifice or genuine emotion.

"Where is this mage you speak of?

"His location is secret. The only reason we are even able to find him is that he owes one of our number a favor. We will teleport you to his lair, and there you must do your utmost to persuade him to join our cause." Here the figure paused, as if uncertain of what to say.

After a moment's hesitation, they continued. "Queen Gladia, we will be frank. If you are to convince the Mad Mage Malgos, for that is his name, to aid us, you will need to use more than just words. Though not of your own will, you are currently in the possession of a body that many may consider irresistable."

Here Gladia smiled inwardly. Apparently, her outburst had convinced the figure to choose its words more carefully.

"You may need to use that charm in your negotiation with Malgos."

"You want me to seduce him."

"Merely entice him so that he is receptive to your offer. We have already promised him a magical treasure that is to be his if he aids us. But he is proving recalcitrant. Hence why we need enlist your help."

She could see the wisdom in this train of thought. If this mage was as powerful as they said, it made sense to try their hardest to get him on their side. And if she had to use her magically enhanced body to do so, then so be it. Gladia nodded to show that she understood. Once again as was so common in dealing with the mysterious resistance, she had no real recourse but to accede. Whether she and her children were merely puppets dancing to an unseen tune, there was no way to know, but also no way to move but forwards.

The hooded figure spent some time detailing their plans - what form the eventual assault on the capital would take, what forces they would expect, and everything that one would need to know to plan a successful siege. When Gladia had committed as much as possible to memory, she indicated that she was ready to depart and meet the mage.

"Whenever you are ready, then." Gladia closed her eyes and steeled herself for the sensation of teleportation. Her daughter had teleported her before, but there was always something that she found deeply disturbing and unnatural about the whole process. People did not just suddenly disappear from one place and appear in the next. Mages did, but not normal people. However, she had little recourse this time but to accept her fate.

The hooded figure gestured, and the world spun and rearranged itself in the span of a second.

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When she felt sensations of movement stop, she opened her eyes. Gladia found herself on a mountain path that was situated high above a vast expanse of forest. Shaking her head to clear it from the post-teleport haze, the queen allowed herself a moment's respite to gaze upon the emerald canopy below her.

It was, in a word, breathtaking. The trees spread out far beyond where the eye could see, a lush carpet of greenery that fairly shone in the light of the morning sun. Gladia felt a smile come unbidden to her lips. The beauty of nature always had a way of transporting her away from her current worries and fears. She had lost count of the amount of times that, on trips to faraway lands on state business, she had paused to take in a sunset or sunrise. She owned, or used to own, a fair share of jewels and trinkets, but none of them could compare to what nature wrought daily.

After a minute or so spent in reverie, Gladia tore herself away. Her kingdom would not save itself, and she must not keep Malgos waiting. She knew nothing about him except what the resistance had told her, but it did not make sense to keep someone whose help they needed waiting overlong. Gladia noticed a path leading up from where she stood. Something told her that it would take her to the mage's lair, and so she started off.

As she walked onwards, Gladia allowed herself to muse on some of what had just happened to her and her children. Events had happened so fast that she had had no time to really put things together. They were against all odds reunited, but changed. Perthias and Daphnia seemed to be coping with their transformations as best as they could, which was to some degree only what she expected. They were her children, after all, and heirs to the throne of Erecia.

But the urges that raced through their bodies limited their options somewhat. They had been practically forced into alliance with the resistance, which still was not showing them all the cards it held. Gladia could only hope that Perthias's brashness would not be his undoing, and that Daphnia's intelligence would help her figure some way out of the situation they found themselves in.

The Resistance. How much did we know about that organization, anyway? Gladia marveled again at how powerful they seemed to be. One wave of the hand and she had been transported to someplace far, far away. She was no stranger to travel in her time as The Queen of Erecia, but she did not recognize any of the scenery where she found herself, beautiful though it was. Even Daphnia, a powerful mage herself, had to have the assistance of a summoning circle and various crystals to affect a long-distance teleport. For them to be able to send her such a vast distance and so easily, bespoke volumes of the magical might at their disposal.

And yet, they were wary of facing the Crimson Mage Rampillion - wary enough to have her enlist the aid of this mage named Malgos. The usurper must be even more powerful than she had surmised. Thinking about that did make Gladia feel a little better about what had happened to them. The coup was sudden, so sudden that they had been taken completely unaware.

The climb to the top of the mountain was long enough to give Gladia ample time to muse on the events and circumstances that had brought them all to this point. Freed from the necessity of constant copulation for a while at least, the queen's keen mind sorted through facts, names and people, attempting to make some sense of the conspiracies and intrigue that she and had children had found themselves ensnared by.

Rampillion, the Resistance, and the mysterious alchemist who had brewed the potion that had turned her into a pleasure slave were all related, she was sure of it. A supremely powerful mage who had wrested her kingdom from her. An organization apparently dedicated to opposing him which had resources ranging from armies to slavers. And a long-dead brewer of potions. There was a thread running through them all, the queen was sure of it. But what was it?

The queen was nothing if not a logical thinker, and so she forced herself out of the realm of speculation and into what was known. There was more than one hooded figure, that much was for certain. They all looked alike, but it was unthinkable that any one of them possessed enough power to do everything that the resistance had done so far. She would bet her lost kingdom on it.

Besides that, the transformations. That seemed to be the one thing that connected both Rampillion and the alchemist. Both could bend the body to their will, and they both used their powers to sexualize and eroticize the human form beyond its limits. The former in particular seemed to delight in debauchery and bacchanalian excess. Gladia did not recall her kingdom ever having either slave pens or the pleasure slaved that stocked them.

And the resistance either did not know how to reverse the transformation magics, or chose not to. The thought had crossed Gladia's mind more than once that it would be a powerful bargaining chip to use against her children and her. They had already all given their word to assist in Rampillion's overthrow - and to an Erecian noble, a word once given was an unbreakable bond. And of course, they all wanted their kingdom back, but the resistance seemed to want to leave nothing to chance.

In the end though, Gladia was forced to admit that there was still too little that she knew to come to any sort of reasonable conclusion. She would have to continue to wait and see, as well as focus on the task at hand. By the time her deliberations had worn down, a fortress loomed ahead of her. Malgos's domicile, she presumed. Her long trek had made her legs tired, and her attitude more than a little irritated. Couldn't they just have teleported her directly to the fortress? Her daughter was nowhere around to ask, but Daphnia would have probably replied that the fortress was shielded against magical intervention or some such. Mages - who knew with them?

The queen sighed, and knocked once on the huge, twin steel doors in front of her. They swung open, and she stepped inside.

A vast great hall spread out in front of her - bigger than even she had expected from the outside. Gladia suspected some kind of space-altering sorcery at work, but had no way to tell. She cast her eyes around the room, trying to spot servants or something similar.

Instead all she found was a broom. And not just any broom - one that seemed to walk on two straw feet towards her, wooden body swinging jauntily to and fro. Gladia blinked once, then blinked again. A broom? Strange choice for a familiar. But then again, mages were not the most normal of people. The broom inclined itself towards her, then spun away in an altogether different direction. Its message was clear - follow. Gladia did as she was instructed, smiling bemusedly at being escorted through a magical fortress by a walking broom. They passed antechambers, drawing rooms, and a kitchen before arriving at their destination - a well-appointed and lush guest chamber.

Gladia nodded politely to the broom, which whisked itself away readily enough. In the room there was a bed, a large cupboard and - thank the gods - a bathtub filled to the brim with cold, clean water. Exhausted from her long trek, the queen took it upon herself to sponge herself off, and then relaxed in the tub for as long as it took to regain some of her strength.

Feeling a little bit more human, Gladia rose from the tub and peeked in the cupboards. There was not a shred of clothing in them, which was fine, all thing considered. What would she need with clothes? If she were to seduce Malgos with her enhanced bodily charms, clothes would only get in the way. Gladia laid down on the bed, only intending to shut her eyes for a second, but drifted off into a deep slumber.

She was awoken by a sharp rapping. She rolled out of bed and opened the door to see the same broom that had brought her to the room waggling impatiently - if a broom can be said to be impatient - from side to side. She had barely put a foot out of the door when it had circled to her rear and bent to spank her on the ass.

The queen's eyes bugged out in surprise. What cheek! She reached out to throttle the assailant, but the broom was too quick, scooting away before she could seize it. Gladia started after it, and the broom led her on a merry chase down a flight of stairs and then up a flight of stairs and through a few rooms. Before she knew it she was standing before two large doors of roughly-hewn oak, decorated with runes and sigils - Malgos's quarters?. No time like the present, she took in a deep breath and knocked once on the doors. They swung open without a sound, and she stepped in.

The Mad Mage Malgos did not look at all like what his name would have suggested. Wild black hair, a trimmed goatee and an average build, but remarkably lucid eyes. He was dressed in the robes that all mages seem to wear - in his case, slightly overlarge dark brown fabric. He was waiting for her, sitting in a large thronelike chair.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her entry. "Well, well, well. What have we here? A naked pleasure slave sent to plead a useless case, no doubt."

"The Resistance sends its regards, Master Malgos." Gladia curtsied before the man. She guessed this was probably the right term of address, in the non-sexual sense of the word. She decided to err on the side of politeness - they did indeed need his help. "If you would vouchsafe me a few words?"

"Fine, get on with it." Malgos waved his hand dismissively.

Gladia bit back her irritation. It was altogether possible that he did not know she was a queen. She began her speech and detailed the resistance plans and his possible role therein. When she mentioned the subject of a reward, a glimmer of interest flickered in his eyes. So, the resistance was right. There was some interest on his part.

It was imperative that she convince him to join their cause. Her daughter was a powerful spellcaster herself, but Rampillion was even stronger. And there was no guarantee that even if the resistance managed to restore her powers as they had promised, that they would be equal to the task of taking on the usurper. She believed in the strength of Daphnia's magic, but decades of statecraft had taught Gladia to hedge her bets as well as she was able. Something told her that their assault would be doomed to fail if she failed to recruit the Mad Mage.

So, she used every new trick she had learned in her time of being a pleasure slave. As she spoke, she changed her voice to be more submissive and naive, cooing and batting her eyelashes. She smiled appreciatively at his every word. She noticed that his eyes followed her nipple piercings as her breasts swayed from side to side, so she made it a point to bounce ever so slightly on the tips of her toes, making them wiggle. She was gratified to see him swallow nervously.

The negotiations continued apace. They discussed troop movements, supply routes and most importantly, how the assault would actually take place.

First, they would storm the gates, then a decoy force would draw away any reinforcements that appeared. The key point here was when and how Malgos would make his appearance. They both agreed that it would be most effective to keep him lying in wait until Rampillion showed. There was no point in showing your hand too early to the enemy, and the Mad Mage was a strong enough card that it made sense to keep him hidden away until he would be of the most use.

As they talked, Gladia brought her new charms to bear as well. She licked and bit her lips as she directed heated stares at the mage, shifted from side to side sensuously rubbing her hips. Most importantly, she made it a point to make her giant breasts sway seductively. It was half seduction and half negotiation, a strange mix of conversation and foreplay that Gladia found both entertaining and downright ridiculous at the same time. She was accustomed to tense meetings held around a round table, not parading her body and flattering a man's ego. But still, the queen was nothing if not pragmatic, and if displaying herself like a pleasure slave would get the resistance the assistance they needed, then she would not shirk from her duty.

It was halfway through a thoroughly banal conversation about what infantry they could expect to face that she saw a look of utter and complete lust come over Malgos's face and that was when Gladia knew she had him. The Mad Mage Malgos was a man, after all, and like most men, at some point his penis will think for him. It was a foregone conclusion from the moment that she had noticed his eyes latch on to her trimmed mound.

But there were procedures to be followed, and gestures to be made. So, she pretended to listen to his every word, and smile at all the appropriate times. There were many salient points that he made about troop placement and such, and she addressed each with equal gravity. But they both knew that the chief point she was making were her giant breasts. The man couldn't seem to take his eyes off them, or the steel rings that adorned them. She knew that the man was as good as hers.

Gladia wasn't immune to the effects of her own dance of seduction. It had almost been an entire day since she last had sex, and that the time wore heavy on her pleasure slave body. She could feel her labia moistening with each sway of her hips and bounce of her breasts, and it took every ounce of willpower she had not to clench her thighs together tightly to alleviate some of the lust she felt. By the time their conversation wore to a close, she wanted him to take her almost as much as she wanted to be taken.

But still he seemed to be holding out. He dithered on one point or another - when do you think Rampillion would actually appear? What if the resistance forces attacked after the decoys, and not before? She couldn't wait any longer - her body wouldn't let her.

So, she went in for the coup de grace. The resistance had told her that she wouldn't need to prostitute herself. But what if she wanted to, or needed to? The urges rushing through her body needed attending, and soon. Why not make the best use of them? There was no shame in making the best use of whatever was available, or so she told herself. In truth, the queen just wanted to fuck.

She leaned forwards a little and when his eyes followed the sway of her breasts - as she knew they would. She inhaled and straightened, causing Malgos's eyes to bulge slightly, and said in a breathy whisper, "Of course, good sir. The resistance would allow you full use of me, as many times and as often as you saw fit." The queenly part of her mind rebelled at the words even as she spoke them, but another altogether more physical, made its call known, and much louder. She wanted to be used, and now!

"And if I were to say yes, at this precise moment? You would be prepared to service me?" Malgos tried and failed to mask the slight tremor in his voice.

Gladia licked her lips lasciviously and nodded. Without waiting for his reply, which she took to be a given, she knelt before him. She unfastened his breeches with a series of expert motions, and extracted his stiffening manhood. She looked up at him as she opened her mouth and took the bulbous tip into her mouth. Her plush lips and skilled tongue had him erupting in a matter of seconds.

She gazed up at him as he helplessly clutched the arms of the throne and his cock pulsed, spurting a second time into her waiting mouth. She had learned that eyes held a greater power than even lips and tongue, and she made sure to meet his own with hers as he released his seed. He tasted a little different from all the other men she had been with - she guessed it he drank a lot of alchemical potions. No matter, if his organ worked the way it should, she wasn't inclined to complain.

She let him recover a bit before she made her next move. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet. Not surprising considering how hard he had orgasmed, but soon righted himself, giving her an unctuous smile. Gladia was about to suggest that they adjourn to someplace more comfortable until with a wave of his hand, Malgos caused a bed to appear in the middle of the room.

Gladia was impressed, despite herself. Whatever his other faults, the man was a mighty mage indeed. Materialization of objects was not learned easily. But there would be time to think of these things later, after their urges had been sated. He motioned her to the bed and she complied readily, rolling over on the sheets and spreading her legs wide. The message was clear and simple - fuck me.

He leapt on her with surprisingly agility for a reclusive man of books. For a moment, she thought he would go for her dripping pussy, but there was no such luck - it was her massive mammaries that the man went for. She let him lick and suck at her nipples and pull the attached rings as much as he desired. Gladia wondered at how a mage of such power could be reduced to suckling like a baby, but she supposed that it was something that could happen to anyone. It was not as if she were immune to her own carnal desires. And her own daughter, so resourceful and strong-willed, was hard-pressed to resist the call of her own elfslut body, so she was inclined to be charitable.

And it wasn't as if she wasn't enjoying herself. What the Mad Mage lacked in skill, he more than made up with enthusiasm. He suckled at her nipples with such ferocity that for a second she was afraid that he might tear them off. Then he brought his hands into play, palming her huge breasts. His hands were small compared to their girth and width, and Gladia had to hold her breath to refrain from moaning out loud. She moved a hand to the back of his head and urged him forward. Their lips found each other in a wet kiss, and their tongues dueled until they broke their lip lock for a gulp of air.

Finally, they had had enough foreplay and Gladia released him from her embrace. She laid back on the silken sheets and grabbing the back of her knees, spread her legs wider. Malgos took the hint and speared her open pussy without hesitation. He began thrusting like he was possessed. He wasn't as long or of a girth as other lovers, nor were his motions as practiced. Gladia guessed that her time as a pleasure slave had spoiled her somewhat. Sex with experienced pleasure slaves had a tendency to give one inflated expectations.

On the other hand, she was so horny that even Malgos's inexpert movements managed to bring her to orgasm within a minute. She locked her long legs around his pale waist as she shuddered in orgasm, cooing and moaning into his ear. They moved together in carnal harmony for a while longer until Malgos went rigid. With a loud grunt, the mage's cock felt like it expanded slightly and then burst, unloading a stream of cum into her. Gladia sighed a little as she tightened around his hard length. Now that he'd come twice, they could really start fucking.

Or so she thought until she realized that he had fallen asleep.

That was it. That, was it? Surely not. The transformed queen was used to at least five orgasms per bout of sex. She poked his shoulder experimentally, but all it did was confirm her suspicious. The man was out like a light. Gladia heaved the largest sigh she had all day and looked up at the ceiling helplessly with her legs locked around his waist. His cock softened, and slipped from her sheath. She clenched her still needy pussy, forcing a glob of cum and her own juices to seep out.

She guessed it came from being a mage - they were not renowned for their physical prowess. Still, she had hoped for more. Maybe all that potion-brewing and spellcasting tired someone out more than she thought. Whatever the case, she was unsatisfied, but there was little she could do about it.

She hoped his mage craft was better than his fucking. If not, the resistance's efforts would be doomed before they even began. She would have to see about getting a proper reaming when she returned to headquarters.

Continued in Chapter 9

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