An update to how far each story of mine is progressing:
This is the 2nd of 5 parts (thus far.)
Sasha Sucklove’s is 23 chapters in, with 9 public and 8 patreon only sections that will never be released publically.
Stud Clara and Sissy Missy (AKA, the DominaTech Saga) is 7 chapters in, with 3 public.
Bimbo 101 (AKA the Witch Universe) is 7 chapters in, with three chapters public.
Sissy Sassi is two chapters in, with one public.
And all 7 chapters of All-Star Sissy are public.
I also have the start of a new story coming out next week, and more than 50 exclusive captions alongside my unreleased stories:
https://www.patreon.com/c/SissyGirlSammi
Thanks for all the reads, all the comments and all the love! And without further ado, the next chapter of How I Became a Sissy Wife for a Futanari Harem Queen!
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Quiet giggles echoed throughout the room.
Two women approached, wearing dresses that parted at their midriff, with skirts that went to their ankles. They were adorned with jewelry, bracelets and rings on their arms and fingers which left their position plain.
The lead was a brunette, with a tall, lithe figure and stern eyes. Some part of me knew that she must be the favorite, or at least the first. Her discerning expression betrayed the slightest bit of approval and sympathy towards me, yet she seemed to look at me more like a situation to attend to, rather than a person to greet.
The one behind, however, was more brazen in her reaction. She looked at me with desire and jealousy, inspecting my new body as she approached. Her scarlet red hair framed a cheshire grin, and her slightly more curvy body well matched her forward demeanor. Still, she was nowhere near my new, unfortunate bust.
I turned from their giggles, looking at them from over my shoulder in the ripped-open robe. I’d never felt this skittish or jumpy before, but I grabbed the torn halves and pulled them back together as they neared.
"A...are you the..."
I couldn’t force myself to day ‘other brides.’ That would require me to call myself one.
"Are you the brides?" I asked sheepishly.
“We are, Sister,” the brunette replies in a measured tone, while the other circled with a hungry smirk.
“Oh, no wonder the Empress wanted you! Your chest is bigger than both of ours combined!” she exclaimed.
I clenched the fabric closer to my chest as she commented on it, fresh defensiveness welling up within me.
"I am not your sister and I don't want you discussing my...you know!" I practically hissed in annoyance.
She just rolled her eyes.
"You're...not like me, are you?" I asked, knowing that it made sense for her to have some real females around to secure her line. "I mean, did you used to be..." I awkwardly trailed off.
“Sultana,” corrected the brunette, with the air of someone dutifully carrying on a fruitless task. It seemed like the redhead cared less for titles and decorum than she did. “And no, we were both born as we were. But however we began, you are our sister-bride. Or you will be, soon enough. I am Johanna, third princess of…well, a country that one from the west would never hear of. And this is Constance- a pleasure girl given station because our wife somewhat favors redheads.”
“Oh, don’t be so formal!” Constance smiled, “I’m just glad to see our new sister came through the rite so beautiful. I can’t wait to help her choose her wedding gown! Remember when you helped me, Johanna?”
Johanna’s expression suggested that her fondness for the redhead didn’t overpower her desire to forget the memory. It must have been some sort of annoyance, but I didn’t care much about that then.
"Wedding gown?" I asked in disbelief, feeling as if the room had suddenly started to spin. "Wedding gown..."
Looking up to them, I clung tight to myself. I was smaller, smaller even than them. I'd never felt so tiny, so vulnerable, so flustered with fear and embarrassment. And here they were, princesses, staring at me as if I were the one to be admired, objectified and prettied.
"Were you sent in here to help me then?" I asked, not sure what help they could really give. Unless they intended on turning me back, nothing they were capable of could be much comfort.
“Well, no. We just told her that you might want to ask us questions!” said Constance, cheerfully looking me up and down once more. “We can tell you about anything you want! Our wife’s preferences, how she likes you to dress, what responsibilities you have… honestly, it’s a pretty easy life! She doesn’t demand much physical labor. Well… except…”
Constance’s smirk as she trailed off suggested everything that needed to be said. I was quite sure the room was spinning by now.
Johanna sighed, but said nothing. She seemed content to let Constance chatter, turning her own focus to the bride she’d have to manage. It was like she was measuring me by her eye, gauging me, taking her glances much more subtly than Constance was.
I just shrunk under their gazes, not feeling very confident as their eyes roved across my new form. I didn’t feel right when I was alone, and being inspecting only made me more self conscious. Crouching down slightly, I stepped back and moved towards the wall.
"Well if you're not like me I don't think you'll have my answers" I told them, caring more about my body and what it had become than decorum and expectations. "Just please stop looking at me like that...I'm naked under here..."
“Best get used to getting looked at,” Constance giggled. “You’re going to be her favorite. Those tits alone would make you worth conquering a kingdom for.”
“Callously put, but not wrong,” Johanna chimed in, putting a hand on her sister-bride’s shoulder as if to call her off. Constance deflated, clearly annoyed by the downer ruining her fun, but did back off.
Johanna stepped out in front now, giving me another once over and then a sigh. “I’m not like you, or the Sultana, but…” she said, putting a soft hand on my cheek and giving a warm, genuine smile. “Talk to me. What are your questions? I am somewhat of a scholar.”
I stepped back until I pressed against one of the temple walls, looking up at her in terror as she touched my cheeks. Being touched like this at all was strange. It was as though every iota of my body had changed. Even my skin felt softer and more sensitive. I wasn't sure if there was a single sensation left that would be entirely familiar and without at least some tinge of otherness. Even breathing felt different as my new chest rose and fell. "Why aren't I like her? I mean, she's still imperious and I've heard...why did I end up this mockery of myself? Feminine in all the worst ways?" I asked.
“Best!” came a cheerful correction from Constance in the back. Johanna glared over her shoulder, then looked back to me.
“Oh hush, you’re beautiful.” She assured me. She tucked some hair behind my ear, and gave me a tender look, “However, that I can answer. The goddess looked into your heart and chose what form would make you happiest eventually.”
"I highly doubt that" I replied in a haughty tone. There was absolutely no way these outrageous breasts, this diminutive frame or my now shrunken member could ever make me happy. Though her brushing some hair behind my ear had made me feel a bit better, for whatever reason. "Can I please just have clothes? Especially if both of you are going to be staring at me like this?"
“Well, yes. But um…” she gave me an apologetic look, “We have to get them fitted for you, which means a trip back to the palace. And you did rip the gown you were intended to wear.”
Constance’s eyes lit up at that. She did, however, have the sense to keep her mouth shut this time. Johanna gestured down to her own dress.
“It’ll be best for getting you used to the eyes, at least. Little solace that is, I know. Stay close to me, I can draw some gazes away.”
"Of course this can't be easy..." I muttered, trying to bunch up the fabric to hide of much of me as possible. "Please tell me this is the type of country where they pluck out eyes for looking to the royal wives..." I muttered jokingly, starting to walk towards the door. My chest swayed. My gait was different. My butt bounced slightly. By the time I reached the door, the new walk had already put an absurdly sour expression on my face.
Johanna moved to walk in front of me, her body seemingly flowing with every step. Her hips swayed, her legs flashed, and it all looked like it came so naturally to her. Constance, waltzed behind me with the gait of a gyrating belly dancer, though it was unclear whether they were trying to draw attention or just walking as usual.
“Learn how to take advantage of how nice your new tits are, and you might get our wife to make that a law” the redhead laughed at my comment.
“Your wife?” asked the Sultana, stepping out from behind a corner with a matching grace. Her voice was so honey and her gait was so casual that her sudden appearance didn’t frighten me, though I did shrink a bit more. “How do you find your future sisters?”
I cowered slightly from her, even if that action was more in my eyes and mind than in my body. I felt almost like prey in front of my future bride. "I...sorry. This is all just too much for me..." I muttered, eyes downcast.
“It’s alright, I remember being flustered when I came out of my own ritual,” she gently explained gently, putting my hand on your back, “Would you like to ask anything? I’ve had thirty years with this form.”
I glanced to the others, clearly too embarrassed to say certain things in front of them. Then again, I would have been embarrassed to say them to just her. "They told me that the goddess chose this form to make me happy...but I really find that hard to believe. I mean why did my...nevermind" I sighed.
The Sultana gave me a questioning look, then her eyes dropped to my hips, and then narrowed slightly…
She had a hint of blush on her caramel skin.
“That… might be because the goddess knows I like them small. Especially in contrast to the blessing she gave me” she admitted.
I gritted my teeth. Shrinking even more, I started to wish that there was a god in my favor who could smite me out of this scene. "That is...apparent" I noted, assuming it also applied to height. "Ugh...I feel like a harlot..."
Suddenly, an intensity appeared in her eyes.
“You are no harlot,” she practically growled, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Only two other people in the world may touch you without my express permission.”
"I...look at me..." I said, getting choked up as I looked down. "Look at me..." I muttered to myself. "Can I please just have clothes? And a mirror, maybe? I need to figure out what I even am now…”
“I know what you are…” she murmured. “And you’re beautiful. As for a mirror, yes of course,” she offered, and continued to walk towards the carriage. The city’s edge was mostly quiet, and what foot traffic there was had paused to watch us walk. Some eyes lingered on me, but just as many gawked at the spot I emerged from, too stunned to even follow me. Armed men and women with scimitars and shields kept them at bay but that was hardly comfort for my new, antsy body. I hurried inside, cursing my jiggles and then sitting in silence as we rode to the palace. Luckily, the place was separated from the city proper by a massive sandstone wall, which hid me as I emerged. The only ones here were the Sultana’s guards, advisors and other confidants, all of them women. I would later learn that men were not allowed within these walls, yet none gave me a second look as our carriage crossed the threshold.
Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t know about that rule at the time. I was going through a big enough existential crisis
The palace itself was a domed marvel of white marble, colorful gardens, and slave girls in revealing dresses. At the top of the stairs, guards stood in lines that flanked the way, all muscular women with dark skin, swords at their belts, and wicked looking spears in hand.
“What was the name she gave you?” asked my future bride.“We cannot enter until you’re announced, and a ‘male’ name won’t be accepted.”
I clung tight to myself, holding my bunched up gown against my body and my hands over my more shameful areas. That meant that the gown was pulled up slightly, revealing more leg than I'd like, but it was better than the alternative. This feeling, feeling as though even my legs were somehow objects of leers and desire...I wasn't sure how to deal with it. I'd cowered from the few looks that did find me, shrunk from the gazes which took me in. The way I moved seemed to almost make it worse. I wasn't like the other brides in their teasing and elegant gait but my new body certainly had some suggestions for how I ought to walk. My weight was distributed differently. My hips were wider. There was still this incessant jiggling above and below, which I tried my best to stop by pressing my chest with my hands. It felt so strange. When I finally replied and gave the name the goddess bestowed upon me, I said it in a voice that was almost too small to hear. "Arya."
She whispered to Johanna, who passed it on to two of the guards. They raised horns and blew into them, three blasts rumbling low.
“Announcing the Princess Arya, and welcoming her home!”