This is a story about a foolish Prince, an evil sorcerer, and the misuse of a magical artifact of great power . . . mischief and chaos ensue.

Caspar sat in his favorite tavern, dressed like a commoner, but it was only a polite fiction. Everyone within the establishment knew he was their prince. It had been a week since Duck Alaric had left the castle in a fury. He refused to explain to anyone the reason for his anger but the way Annika had hidden within the carriage was all the explanation Caspar needed. The men of the northern provinces were known for being prudish, swift to anger, and perhaps a little dimmer than most. Caspar imagined Annika suggesting a repeat performance of the previous night’s bed play, and Alaric’s response.

Caspar figured that Alaric now knew that he’d been cuckolded. Yet they had no way to even make the accusation. Even if Alaric knew it had been Caspar using magic to trick Annika, there was no way to prove it. Without that evidence an accusation would have resulted in Alaric’s swift imprisonment. Still, Caspar had been careful in the days that followed his hard use of Annika. Now, however, he reached up and touched the pendant. Time to test another power. Looking around around the seedy tavern Caspar’s eyes feasted upon the flesh of barmaids and whores. They came in all sizes and shapes and he loved the flesh of each kind of woman. Then his eyes fell on a dark-haired goddess. Obviously, a whore and probably an expensive one. A barbarian warrior, from Cimmeria by the look of him, scooped her up and tossed a coin to the owner of the tavern. “A room!”

The fat proprietor caught the coin and bit into it before nodding. “Top of the stairs, third from the end on the left.”

As the guard carried his prize up Caspar looked at his drinking companions. They were “off” duty members of the royal guard. “I’m going to take a quick nap. See that no one disturbs me.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Looking up at the woman still kicking and screaming as the guard carried her, over one shoulder up the stairs, Caspar touched the crystal and whispered, “Invoca.”

The breeze he’d felt before blew Caspar up out of his body and across the common room. The guard had reached the top of the stairs and as Caspar approached the woman looked up. Her pale delicate face was framed by dark hair and she had the bluest eyes Caspar had ever seen. Eyes that got bigger and bigger. Then the world spun around.

Caspar gasped, he had a hard time breathing, a long curtain of dark hair fell around his face. “W-What?” he tried to say, but it came out as a high-pitched squeak.

“I’ve had enough of your squealing, Ida!” A gruff voice noted.

Caspar tried to pound the back of the giant carrying him. His blows were soft and useless. “Put me down!”

Until now, Caspar hadn’t realized how hard it was to breath, with all his weight supported by his stomach and his soft luscious body draped over the hard shoulder of a warrior. This time as the words came out in a musical alto, in an accent new to Caspar’s ear, and he realized what had happened. He’d been looking at the whore instead of the warrior when he used the crystal!”

“As you wish!”

Casper was tossed from the man’s shoulder, his back hit the wall, and he scrambled to keep his tiny feet under him. The balance of his new body was off and the way the flesh on his chest moved and bounced was a momentary distraction. Then a strong hand pressed him into the wall and a masculine mouth covered his. Caspar could taste the onions and liver as the warrior’s tongue ravished his mouth. He tried to hit at the warrior with one tiny hand, but his body wasn’t moving properly. When he drew back Caspar sputtered, “W-Why you I-I’ll have you whipped for that!”

“Oh, is that how you want to play it, tonight? You’re the struggling maiden and I’m the conquering warrior? Well, I’m game.” The guard pulled off a dirty, and much stained, cloth he’d been wearing around his head, to keep the sweat from his eyes, and shoved it into Caspar’s mouth.

Caspar tried to pull it out but the warrior caught both of his tiny writs in his ham sized fist. Then he pulled a leather cord from his belt and wrapped it around Caspar’s mouth to prevent him from spitting the rag out.

“Mmph-r-ph-elease meeeee!” Caspar tried to say shaking his head. It was no use the warrior’s movements were quick and practiced. Obviously, he’d been on slaving raids and knew how to capture a woman. In a few seconds, Caspar’s hands and feet were professionally bound and then to his horror the barbarian picked him up as though he weighed nothing.

Caspar felt the warrior kick open a door and he was flung onto a dirty bed with a straw filled mattress. He hit hard, the mattress doing little to absorb the impact, and his soft body bounced breasts bursting from the top of the tight corset that had almost contained them. Feeling the large succulent orbs on his chest and seeing the bright pink nipples it fully hit him. ‘I’m a woman! God’s no! I can’t be a woman!’

“Now, Ida, you’re the one who wants to play it rough. I’m willing to play along, but I’m not paying extra!” At this the guard tossed a coin onto the floor by the bed. Then he started shedding his clothes.

‘I’ve got to return.’ Caspar thought as the realization of what was about to happen hit him. “R-ph-edit-mph-tum” he tried to say. Nothing happened. Then he felt the weight of the warrior, now completely naked, as he moved onto the bed.

“Come here wench!”

The irony of being called “wench” made Caspar want to scream and he rolled onto his belly, breasts, like a pair of enormous pillows, pressed into the fabric of the bed as he tried to escape.

“Where do you think, you’re going?”

A powerful hand closed around his soft ankle and Caspar was pulled to the edge of the bed. “Trying to escape? After I paid good money? That’s a bad girl.” Caspar felt his skirt lift and the cold air on his soft bottom was surprisingly shocking. ‘I’m not wearing small clothes.’ Caspar thought in horror.

SMACK . . . SMACK . . . SMACK

The sting of the warrior’s hand on Caspar’s soft flesh made him gasp and tears sprang to his eyes. He knew what was coming and still he tried to fight. Wiggling and squirming only seemed to excite the warrior. As the spanking continued the burning on Caspar’s ass shifted. Each slap sent a jolt of sensation through parts that Caspar had never had before. The sting of each impact moved through his new parts, parts he still refused to accept, exciting them. Instead of the hard sensation of his normal, royal cock, his new, soft, moist, tunnel began to ache with need.

“Shall we test the waters?”

“Mph-W-ph-at?”

Then Caspar’s eyes went wide as a finger spread his pussy lips. A part of his mind had known he now had a pussy. Yet, on a conscious level he’d refused to understand or accept what that must mean. The touch, the sensation of having a set of lips, where none previously existed, gave him no room to deny it. Caspar tried to squirm away but the barbarian held him firmly, helpless, in his strong grasp. Thick course fingers probed into him. Each stroke filled and stocked a fire of need within him. Caspar could feel his own moist juices and could stop himself from pushing into those questing fingers.

“I’d say the water is warm and ready!”

The knowledge that he now owned a pussy and was unavoidable. The barbarian warrior continued to spread, stroke, and tease his new feminine region. Then there was a shift, the Barbarian had found a nub of flesh just above his slit . . . Caspar’s eyes went wide as a jolt of carnal electricity burst through him. Rubbing Caspar’s clit, the barbarian pushed a second finger into his tunnel. Bucking his hips, little moans escaped the gag, Caspar desperately wanted it to stop. Never had he dreamed anything might feel so good!

“Like that, do ya? Well, old Bert knows what you like. By the god’s, I’ve had you often enough!”

The probing turned into a stead pumping. With each stroke, Bert teased Caspar’s clit sending increasingly intense jolts of pleasure into his soft jiggling squirming body. The pumping continued and a tension started to build and build. The damn, holding back him back broke, gasping, Caspar felt his inner muscles try to clamp down on the offending digit. His pussy spasmed and his whole body shuddered as an orgasm, unlike any he’d ever had before, rushed through him.

‘I-It can’t be . . . did I-I just cum?’

“Ah, that’s my girl. I’d say you’re ready.” Caspar felt his body being lifted like a child. Then his face was pressed into the stained and smelly straw mattress. ‘W-What?’ was all he could think as two powerful hands lifted his hips. On reflex Caspar pulled his knees together and under him and then tried to take the weight off his soft full chest by getting his bound hands under his large breasts. Then he felt a tug and the cord that had tied his feet together was gone. “There we go,” Bert said, and Caspar felt the electric sensation of a hot cock pressed to his sensitive lower lips.

He tried to move, to hold his knees together. “Still playing the virgin, are you?” With that Bret easily forced Caspar’s legs apart and then with a single strong thrust Bert pushed the helmet of his cock into Caspar from behind.

Caspar wanted to scream, ‘Oh, god’s no!’ at the popping sensation, as Bert entered him, but the gage was still firmly in place.

“Give me a bit more room, wench.” He heard Bert say and then felt his legs forced further apart. He tried to struggle but Bert was in full command of Caspar’s delectable female body. From behind Caspar felt Bert shift his weight and he buried his hot, hard, cock to the hilt in Caspar’s yearning pussy. The penetration was smooth and easy since Bert wasn’t too big and Ida’s cunt was will used.

Bert started to pick up the pace, and Caspar looking back, between his own pendulous melons. The sight was one he’d never imagined. Bert’s ball sack swinging under his tummy, in time with each mighty barbaric thrust. Caspar buried his face into the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes, as the pressure built, unable to watch the impossible sight of being taken, like a peasant, from behind. This time as the sensations grew stronger, more powerful, a primal force he tried to deny, but couldn’t fight, swept him up. The orgasm that crashed over him left Caspar gasping and cringing. ‘N-Nothing can feel this good!’

Then he felt his body being lifted and spun around to face Bert. Bert settled onto the bed and dropped Caspar onto his lap, now facing the warrior. “I wanna suck on those udders!”

Corse whiskers brushed against his sensitive flesh and then Caspar felt Bert’s cock impale his pussy, again. This time he didn’t even try to fight it, he spread his legs straddling Bert and dropped his still bound wrists over and behind his head. Wiggling to rub his clit against the hilt of Bert’s meat. The connection between breasts and pussy was like nothing Caspar had ever imagined. In a vague way, he remembered bringing women to the edge of bliss and holding them there. Using every decadent skill, he possessed to tease and then push them over. To own their bodies and dominate the weaker, feminine mind, to make each conquest his own, body, mind, and soul. This was the height of pleasure to Caspar. Women were nothing more, in Caspar’s mind, than playthings for his amusement, slaves to his cock and manly touch.

Now, on the receiving end of so many sensations, Caspar felt his world shifting around him. He couldn’t think. All he could do was react to the carnal sensations assaulting his male mind. Abruptly, Caspar realized that his hands were free, he had no idea of when Bert had released him. Rather than claw at the gage, he ran his dainty fingers through the warrior’s long hair as he continued to suck and caress Caspar’s amazing tits. Riding a wave of carnality, nothing existed except cock and pussy, and the build of yet another climax. Never had he dreamt that each successive explosion of bliss might be more powerful than the last. Clenching his cunt as tightly as he could around the Bert’s rod Caspar threw back his head in a muffled attempt to scream.

“Ah, babe, I’m almost there.”

Bert tossed Caspar onto his back, not breaking the timing of his steady thrusting. Flat on his back, Bert’s assault on his pussy picked up in intensity. A relentless hammering that curled his toes and caused him to wrap his long legs around Bert’s athletic waist. Just as Caspar was about to cum, yet again, Bert pulled out and sent a spray of ropy white fluid into Caspar’s face.

His mind still dazed Caspar felt his pussy trying to clamp down on the tool that no longer filled it. The empty feeling, the sensation of a deep primordial connection, followed by the gaping loss of that connection left his body quivering and his womanhood grasping, still trying to clamp down on the missing cock. The feeling of being brought to the edge, only this time, not to be pushed over was new to Caspar.

“Ida, that was great! It was like we’d never fucked before!” Bert reached down and pulled the makeshift gage off. “Now, clean me with your mouth.”

Caspar stared at the red rod, still dripping cum and covered with pussy juice, and whispered “Reditum.”