By Zapper

Synopsis: In the golden age of Hyberia; an age of magic, swords, and sorcery there is a land in the far north. The kingdom of Vanaheim is ruled by Oberon and is enjoying a time of prosperity and relative peace. Prince Caspar is bored with his decadent life and seeks out his father’s Court Sorcerer demanding an artifact to help him satisfy his every lust . . . mischief and chaos ensue. [This story contains elements of possession, transformation, and body-swapping. There are graphic erotic scenes that might offend some readers. ]

By Zapper

“Are you sure this is what you desire, my lord?” Horus asked. The sweat on his bald head gleamed in the lamp light of the tower the Court Sorcerer called home. Even though it was the middle of the night neither the prince nor the sorcerer showed any signs of being tired.

“Yes. You said you’ve finished it, where is it?” The authoritative voice of the young, handsome, prince was spoiled by the slight slur induced by his habitual over indulgence. Despite this, his body was lean and hard and he towered over the smaller darker form Horus. He slowly hooked a rawboned hand in the loop of his trousers next to the rapier. “You didn’t lie to me, did you?” His voice dripped with menace.

“No, of course not. It’s just, this is a powerful artifact. It took almost a year to craft and great mischief might result from its use.”

At this Prince Caspar grinned his brilliant smile lighting up the dark room and the hint of laughter crinkled the corner of his eyes. “I’m counting on it. My father and mother are in good health and I don’t have to start acting responsible for years yet.”

“What of your wife? The mid-wife has predicted that she will deliver twins to you in six months. As a father, shouldn’t you be more responsible?”

At this the look on Caspar’s face shifted. “Don’t lecture me old man. You serve the King and I am his son and heir. Lest you wish chastisement, bring out the artifact.”

Horus bony shoulders slumped and after taking a moment to rub his beak like nose he moved to a trunk that had been sealed with wards and locked with iron. The prince watched as Horus chanted words he didn’t quite catch and then pulled a long iron key from under his robes. The lock clicked open and Prince Caspar moved to peer into the trunk. Try as he might the shadows that filled the trunk prevented the prince from observing what was inside. When Horus reached in the shadows seemed to writhe and slither up his arm as if they weren’t just alive, but sentient.

Horus slowly pulled back a bony arm and for a moment Caspar wondered if the shadows would come out along with the hand. Abruptly, the clinging darkness fell back and Horus lifted the prize and turned to present it to Caspar. In that instant Caspar saw the glow of red power in the old man’s eyes and took a step back, his hand dropping to his sword.

“As you commanded, my lord.” Horus offered the necklace to the prince. Caspar’s eyes devoured the item. The long gold chain looked like a work of stunning craftsmanship, but the part that caught the prince’s interest was the teardrop shaped crystal that hung from it. The crystal had been bound with gold and silver wire and then attached to the chain. For a moment, Caspar thought it glowed with an inner power. Then he shook his head, ‘It must be a trick of the light.’ he thought.

“How does it work?”

Still holding the artifact to the prince Horus answered, “The necklace has three powers, my prince. First is possession. When you are wearing it, touch the crystal with a hand and look at a person and whisper “Invoca.” Your mind will fly like a breeze into the object of your gaze and it will be as if you were that person. When you do this your body will fall asleep until you say, “Reditum.” This will cause your spirit to return to your magnificent royal flesh.”

Caspar’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t move. “That isn’t exactly what I asked you to craft.”

“True, my lord. The second power, is transformation. This is the power you requested. Hold the crystal in one hand and touch an item of clothing, a personal possession, or the flesh of another and say, “Invoca.” When you do this your royal body will change into a perfect copy that person. To end the transformation while wearing the necklace grasp it in one hand and say, “Reditum.” This will return you to your masterful flesh.”

Now the prince grinned, “Perfect.” He reached for the chain only to have Horus pull away.

“There is one final power and a warning.”

This time the prince glared, but said nothing. Horus could see he was trying the royal patients, such as it was. With a shrug, he dropped the crystal into Caspar’s outstretched hand. “The third power is the ability to exchange minds with another. Hold the crystal in your hand, speak the person’s name and and say “Invoca” and your mind will inhabit that person’s body while his mind moves into your royal body. To return to your royal flesh you must wear the necklace, hold it in one hand, and say “Reditum.””

At this Caspar closed his fist over the crystal. “Why that last power? I didn’t request it.”

The sorcerer shrugged, “My lord I’ve known you since you were a little boy. You love to cause mischief. I feared that you might become bored with the ability to transform so I added additional powers in the hope of keeping the royal curiosity satisfied.”

Caspar laughed. “Well done, Horus.” He lifted the chain and dropped it over his head. “Now, what of this warning?”

Horus was slightly surprised that the prince had been paying attention. ‘Perhaps he’s not as drunk as I thought.’

“The warning is simple. The longer you remain within the form of another the more that body will affect you. The memories, skills, needs, wants, desires, and preferences are all locked within the physical being. I would suggest only short uses of the necklace’s power until you become accustomed to it.”

The prince nodded, “I will heed your words.” Then before Horus could finish he touched the crystal with one hand he said, “Invoca.”

A tingle raced through the prince’s body and then he felt a wind pull him up, even though he didn’t move and everything in the room remained locked in place. Then he zoomed toward Horus as he too stood frozen. The form of the old man grew bigger and bigger and then he felt a snapping sensation and he gasped. Air filled his lungs, his whole body ached and he blinked. He heard a noise and looked down to see that his body had slumped to the ground. Moving forward Caspar grimaced, “I had no idea old Horus knees ached so badly.” he muttered in Horus’s tenor.

Stopping next to his body Caspar was relieved to see his chest rise and fall. “I look like I’m sleeping.” He ran a bony hand over his bald head, “This is what it feels like to be bald? Ha!” Slowly Caspar moved around the room, he felt small, feeble, frail even. Yet every sensation was new and interesting. Caspar moved to a chair Horus must use when studying magic and settled into it. “Reditum!”

Once again, the astral wind lifted Caspar’s spirit up from the aged sorcerer’s flesh. He flew across the room and settled into his blonde body. An instant later Caspar and Horus’s eyes flew open.

“W-what?” Horus gasped slowly standing.

“Well, done Horus! This is indeed a princely gift!” Already on his feet Caspar looked down at the tiny sorcerer, “What did you feel, while I possessed you?”

Horus shrugged, “It was like I fell asleep. Only now, if I think on it, I vaguely remember walking around the room and settling into my chair.”

“Excellent! Well, I’m off, the night is late, but not too late!” With that he spun about and rushed from the chamber. As the door banged shut Horus shook his head.

“My prince, you are a fool. Playing with magic has consequences and you didn’t hear the second part of my warning.” Then he shook his head and returned to the trunk. This time he retrieved a ring, with a crystal made from the same stone as the one hanging from Caspar’s necklace. Horus locked the trunk and activated the wards. When he straitened up he rubbed his back and then grinned, “I wonder what will happen when the prince discovers that the necklace will not work during the three days of the full moon?” Then he slid the ring onto his hand admiring the much smaller crystal. “I must remember to thank the prince for his sponsorship. I’d never have been able to craft the necklace or this ring without his wealth and authority backing me up!”

By Zapper

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 practically danced as he made his way to his chambers. When he entered his quarters he barely noticed the plush carpet under his boots or the bright lamps that bathed the opulent space in warm light. He tossed his sword carelessly onto a couch and moved to stand before the large fire place.

“Now for a bit of fun!” He laughed. On the way, back to his suite Caspar had walked past his father’s study. Upon hearing voices, he knocked on the door. A moment later the door swung open and he saw the bearded face of Duke Alaric. Alaric was a bear of a man, taller even than prince Caspar, and known to be one of the deadliest warriors in the realm.

“It is your son, my lord.”

“Father,” Caspar exclaimed, brushing up against Alaric, as he pushed into the study. When he glanced around he saw Gunter, Knight Captain of the Royal Guard, and the fat form of Baron Otto, the third richest man in the realm. “Is this a war council?” Caspar asked eagerly. At this Otto filled the room with his booming laugh while Gunter just shook his head.

“Nothing so grave my son. We are four old friends sharing a drink and talking of crops and bandits.” King Oberon replied, “Will you join us?”

“Nay, father, I am done in. I only stopped because I saw the light and wished to bid you a good evening.”

Oberon’s brow furled. “What are you up to Caspar?”

Caspar laughed and picked up a bottle of brandy from the table where the men sat. “Just pinching a quick libation to ease my slumber, my lord.” and with that Caspar ducked out of the chamber. Now Caspar looked down at the riding gloves he’d lifted from Alaric’s belt. After a moment to consider Caspar tossed his garments to one side and naked he picked up the gloves and wrapped a fist around the crystal.

“Invoca.”

Again, a tingling sensation raced through Caspar only this time it intensified. Caught between pleasure and pain Caspar couldn’t move. Then he felt his flesh shifting around. As if his body were made of clay . . . clay that was being reshaped. After several long seconds the tingling died away and it was over. He stumbled forward, now able to move, gasping, dizzy, and off balance.

The first thing Caspar noticed was the long red beard that now tickled his chest. He lifted a powerful arm and saw that his hand was larger than normal and it now had a set of calluses from long hours of weapons practice. “I am Duke Alaric!” Caspar boomed and grinned wolfishly at the deep base that had replaced his normal refined tones. “Oh, this is too perfect!”

Caspar walked over to the standing mirror to one side of the room. As he did he felt his now nine-inch, flaccid, cock swing from side-to-side. Standing in front of the mirror he ran his hands over the powerful body of the Duke. “Little wonder he’s one of the deadliest warriors alive!” Then he reached between his thighs and stroked his new manhood, “I bet Annika loves this.” He shook his head, “Why would the Duke be drinking with my father when he could be ravishing the fairest maiden in all the kingdom?”

Caspar moved to his wardrobe drawing out a loose robe he used for the walk to the castle baths. Even this garment was tight on his now large shoulders. Once clothed Caspar took a moment to put out all but one of the lamps and, locking the door behind him, moved through the castle on silent feet.

Caspar knew every passage and every corner of the castle. The halls the servants used to move unobserved through the castle and even the secret ways. The secret ways were passages built that only the royal family knew about. The closest “way” was a few feet from his chamber. Caspar pressed one heavy foot on a flagstone, while simultaneously pushing a stone in the wall, he heard a faint click. A moment later that part of the wall slid silently back and Caspar squeezed his now much larger body through the narrow opening. A few seconds later the wall closed cutting Caspar off from all light except the lamp he carried.

The journey to the apartments the King had given to Duke Alaric and his wife only took a few minutes. After peering out the spy hole to ensure no one would see him Caspar returned to the normal passageway. Walking around a corner the guards by the apartment snapped to attention. They wore the tabard of Northumbria, Alaric’s duchy.

“My lord, are you done drinking with the King?” The younger guard asked. Caspar grunted and the second guard grinned, “An early night then?”

“Aye. Is my wife, Annika, within?”

“Nay my lord. When you left the feast hall with the king she returned to her room.”

“It has been a long day. Which apartment did the royal’s give her?”

“The purple suite, my lord. Just down the corridor from here.”

“My thanks,” Caspar boomed in Alaric’s jovial voice. Clapping the younger guard on the shoulder he gave the guard a wink. “I think I need to pay her a visit.” At this both guards grinned openly at the man they thought was their lord.

When the door to the Duchess’s rooms came into view the guards stationed there came to attention. “Good evening. How fairs my lady wife?”

“She is within my lord, but as to her state? I-I do not know.” The older guard replied.

“Then I shall discover it for myself.” Caspar brushed by and opened the door. The scent of roses filled the room and the fire had been allowed to die to a faint glow. Caspar moved through the sitting room to the door that led to the bedchamber. He pushed the door open and the light from his lamp showed a canopied bed and a single form sleeping within.

“M-My lord?” The sleepy question was all the confirmation Caspar needed. Setting the lamp on the table by the bed he dropped his robe, “It is I, your husband, Alaric.” After a moment’s hesitation, he took the necklace off and dropped it onto the robe.

“I was not expecting you tonight my lord. Does the King not need your council?”

“Not as much as I need you.”

Caspar’s eyes devoured the lush curve of Annika’s breasts. Lifting a large hand Caspar parted the diaphanous curtain and eased onto the bed. Annika sat up and turned toward him and Caspar saw that she was wearing a flimsy see-through garment. “By the gods, you are beautiful.”

“I can see my lord is in need of me.” Annika giggled, reaching out with a tiny pale hand to grasp Caspar’s now fully erect cock. Caspar reached up cupping Annika’s delicate chin and brushed his lips to hers while Annika continued to stroke his shaft. “Oh, gods, woman!” Then gripping her nightgown with one hand, he tore it from her.

“Ewk . . .” Annika screeched, startled, and looked up at the man she thought was her husband, with large blue eyes. Caspar ran a calloused hand over her luscious milky breast enjoying the soft heavy weight. Then he lowered his lips to a pink nipple relishing the rubbery texture as he teased it with his tongue. “Oh, my lord, where did you learn that?”

‘Oh, I’ve got all sorts of new things for you.’ Caspar thought. Using his free hand, he ran it over the curve of her hip and down between her legs. Discovering a moist heat, he used his fingers to part Annika’s lower lips.

“Oh, my love. I don’t know what brought you to my chamber this night but, I pray you, do not stop!”

Caspar found Annika’s clit and stroked it he felt her respond by spreading her legs further apart and pushing up into his hand. Then he drove a single large digit into her depths. Using his thumb, he continued an assault on her clit, until at last his questing fingers found her g-spot. “O-Oh . . . that’s it. Right there! Ohhhhh-mmmmyyyy-lllooorrrdd.”

Feeling this gorgeous creature at the precipice of a climax Caspar gloried in it. ‘Spurn me as nothing more than a spoiled princeling?’ he laughed on the inside. ‘Well, the Prince shall have you! Even if you don’t know who it is who visits your chamber. Let that lumbering clod of a husband wonder why he can never satisfy his wife after this night!’

Before she could cum Caspar moved between Annika’s milky thighs and holding his iron hard cock in one hand he guided it into her. Even with the foreplay Caspar had to be gentle. His new shaft was huge and the popping sensation as he penetrated Annika’s gate left him gasping. “You are so, tight!”

“Gently, my lord.” Annika moaned. “It has been more than two moons since you last used my body.” Then she felt the man she thought was her husband reach under her grasping her bottom for leverage, Caspar rammed his cock home!

“Ahhhhh! M-My lord, t-that hurts!”

“Silence wench, your body is mine!” Caspar snarled. Pulling back until he was almost out he drove back in, burying his cock balls deep within her. At this Annika lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. Caspar’s steady assault slowly transformed the pain to something else. Gradually he increased the pace, pumping faster and faster. Sweat began to cover his hairy back and Annika was now squirming with pleasure.

Not satisfied Caspar pulled out, “Roll over wench. I will take you like a peasant, like a milk-maid in the fields.”

Lust filled her eyes at this unusual behavior and Annika eagerly rolled over. Caspar quickly mounted her from behind. Grabbing her hips for leverage he drove into her honey pot again and again.

Caspar closed the door to his chamber and started laughing. The deep base guffaw bounced around the room causing him to laugh harder. He could see the sun starting to touch the horizon, through the glass door that led to a balcony. On his way back he’d once again passed his father’s study, unsurprised that the light was still on. It was his father’s habit, when his nobles visited, to spend the first night drinking. It was a perverse test of manhood, to see if they could keep up with the king. Knowing this Caspar hadn’t been worried about getting caught. Then he felt between his legs. His cock was almost raw from the work he’d put it through. Then the image of an exhausted Annika sprawled like a tavern whore across her bed. The juices, sweat, cum, and a little blood, from his hard use of her body covered her.

Caspar grinned as he remembered his first use of her ass. It was a virgin hole no longer. Annika’s screams of pain turned to wonton, carnal, bliss as he expertly used her body. Again, and again, he’d brought her to climax. When she’d thought it was over, he drove her to yet another, higher, precipice. At last she’d cum as he rode her ass, stroking her clit with one hand while holding her hip with the other. It was a night Caspar knew Annika would never forget.

He reached into the pocket of the robe and pulled out the necklace before tossing the robe to one side. Caspar strode to the mirror and placed the necklace around his neck. He growled, “Reditum!” while holding the crystal. Once again, the magic pulsed through his body and it shifted. This time, knowing what to expect he looked forward to the tingling that rushed through his frame. Frozen he watched as his skin shifted and moved. Red hair was replaced with blonde and coarse skin became smoother.

Restored to his royal shape, Caspar returned to where he’d left his robe and retrieved Alaric’s gloves and a new item. The gown he’d torn from Annika when wadded into a ball had fit easily into the pocket of his robe.

“Now that I’ve had you once. I shall have you whenever I choose. I know a certain whore who would love to wear the shape of the most beautiful lady in the realm!”

Caspar quickly locked the pendant and garments in his personal safe and then slid into bed. Content in the knowledge that he’d just ruined Annika for Alaric. A fitting revenge, in his mind, for the way she’d spurned him.

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.”

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.

In this Chapter Prince Caspar continues to abuse his power much to his best friend's regret.

Caspar lunged, driving his sparring partner back. The training ground was full of warriors practicing their craft. Caspar even though a royal had been forced, under the eye of his father, to spend at least an hour a day here. Normally, he gloried in the training. His body was tall, lean, and hardened from almost twenty-five years of steady training. The maidens normally filled the balconies surrounding the ground so that they could watch as one warrior strove against another. Ordinarily, this wasn’t a distraction for Caspar, except for today. It had been a month since he’d learned what a woman feels when taken by a powerful man and he couldn’t get the sensations out of his mind.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ he wondered. Just then he felt a stabbing blow to his shoulder as Kyler got past his defense and hit him with the blunt tip of a saber.

“My lord, are you feeling alright?”

The concern on his friend’s face only made him angry. “I’m fine. Again.”

This time Caspar focused on the match and they were soon moving over the training ground the clash of the blunt blades sent sparks as Caspar focused. His confusion and anger had manifested in this duel and he was determined to win. Kyler was no slouch. The son of Gunter he’d been trained to fight before he could walk. Around the sparing grounds they moved and soon everyone else stopped to watch.

Stepping close Kyler bound their blades in a clench, slightly taller, and much stronger from his father’s non-stop training, Kyler knew he had the advantage. “What’s bothering you my prince?” Rather than answer Caspar stepped across and in front of Kyler, he then twisted at the hips while holding tightly to Kyler’s sword arm. The hip throw worked, but Kyler was ready. Diving forward he turned the throw into a front roll and came to his feet sword at the ready.

“A draw?”

At Caspar’s nod, Kyler saluted. The training yard burst into applause. When Caspar looked up he saw they’d drawn a crowd. On the far balcony, he spotted his wife, the princess, Sanja. While the blonde busty Annika was considered the fairest woman in the realm, Sanja with her flaming hair and only slightly smaller chest was just a step behind. Yet, for Caspar, it was a wound that ate at him. He was the crown prince! He should have the most beautiful maiden to wife and he should be the mightiest warrior in the land. He glanced over at Kyler from the corner of his eye and wondered how the virile warrior would react to womanhood. There was a particularly lusty courtesan with an insatiable libido who might look good on Kyler.

Then Sanja smiled down at her husband the prince and rubbed her slightly swollen belly. Caspar lifted his training blade in salute, but it was not to the princess. Sanja flashed a smile and waved down at her husband, blind to the woman standing just behind her.

In the shadows of the balcony, to one side, was a dusky slave. A woman from the realms to the south. South of even the azure sea. Her skin was far darker than the people of Caspar’s kingdom and from the moment he saw her he’d been intoxicated by her exotic beauty. The slave collar flashed in the morning sunlight a bright contrast to Nefertari’s skin.

After Caspar’s night of passion with Annika he’d sent the court sorcerer away. That way when Alaric went looking for him Caspar informed the enraged husband that the sorcerer was gone. Horus, never one to waste an opportunity, had journeyed south to the southern-most city within the realm of Vanaheim. The city of Gildar was the center of the slave trade for the region and Horus had found Nefertari on the slave block. When he brought her to the castle Caspar knew he had to have her.

As quick as a thought Nefertari vanished from behind his wife. Everyone in the Castle knew she was Horus slave and that they were from the same country. The rumors that floated around the halls had them performing blood rites and having deviate sex, under the full-moon. Caspar laughed when he heard these since he knew where Nefertari spent most of her nights. Although, as he considered it, he knew the servants had the deviate sex acts right.

“Well fought, you two!” Gunter shouted coming forward. He clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. “To think I’d once despaired of teaching you the blade.” This comment was directed at Caspar. “I’d say that today’s work qualifies you for a master swordsman badge. I will make the recommendation to your father, the king.”

“Master, it is almost time.” Nefertari’s soft voice seemed to fill the dark. The shadows were alive with spirits and she shuddered to think of the things her master, Horus, had done here. The old man moved into the lamp light, the reflection from his bald ebony skull seemed more appropriate to stone than to a human.

“Tell me.”

“The prince is a fool and is weak. He is driven by his needs and thinks of nothing except his pleasure.”

“This, I already know.” The irritation Horus voice filled Nefertari with fear, yet she refused to let it show.

“Did you know, he mistakenly took the form of a woman and experienced a woman’s true pleasure?”

At this the old sorcerer blinked, “No, that is, unexpected.” Then after a moment stroking his chin, “I think you can use this. Play it up, goad him, when he mounts you make him believe that nothing under the heavens can feel as blissful as being taken as a woman. Then in your post coital bliss confess to him that you pity men, since they cannot know a woman’s pleasure.”

Nefertari nodded, “This I have already done. I told him I’m not afraid of magic and for the past week he’s brought out the crystal. I have taken the shape of many women, but most often when he uses me, it is as I am, or in the forms of Duchess Annika and Sonja, his wife.”

“Has he spoken of taking a woman’s body, that you may pleasure him?”

“He has not spoken of it . . . yet I can see it in his eyes. His desire to try it once again is a fire that will not go out.” Then she laughed, “I will not let it go out.”

“Excellent, my slave, stoke the flame of his desire, of his need to see, feel, and experience every form of pleasure. If you can, get him to use the third power. Trade bodies with him. Then show him what a mistress trained in the House of Pleasure can do.” At this the sorcerer took her chin in his bony hand lifting it so that her eyes met his, “When you take him, force him to call you Prince Caspar and address him only as salve or Nefertari. If you can get him to, make him beg, and when he begs he must call you Caspar. The magic will work on him, forcing him into the role that matches the body wears.”

Then an evil chuckle escaped Horus withered lips, “Once you have brought him to the heights of pleasure, ask him if he’s ready to switch back. If he says no, then reluctantly agree. If he says yes, punish him, call him a stupid slave, force him to yield to your will and take his body by force. When you ravish him tell him he is a slave and unworthy of the cock you now own. Tell him you will return it when you are ready and not before. Then when you are finished order him to return to me.”

Nefertari bowed gesturing with her hand in a complex way that Horus knew meant she had heard his order and would obey. After Nefertari left he ran a bony finger over his ring. “Soon, very soon, I’ll use you and then we shall see.”

Caspar looked out the window of his apartments fuming. He’d approached Sonja suggesting that a night spent in passion would strengthen the son growing in her womb. She’d laughed and said that wasn’t how it worked and to leave mysteries of this sort to the women. The condescending attitude infuriated him. Returning to his room Caspar had polished off a bottle of brandy before a thought entered his mind. Laughing he’d moved to the window, if this plan were to work, he had to be patient. Caspar had never been a patient man, but he knew how to focus on the things he wanted. Night had fallen and most of the castle had settled in for the evening. Caspar banked the lights in his apartment and waited in the shadows.

At the end of the day’s feasting, before he’d tried to work his charms on the Princess Sonja, he’d watched Kyler leave the Great Hall with his arm draped around the shoulder of his favorite serving wench. The woman had the big bones of a peasant and the enormous bosom to match. Yet, Kyler had hinted that she was tireless in bed. This was something Caspar found hard to believe, and even though intrigued had no interest in testing the boast. His tastes were far more refined.

Abruptly the door to a private suite across the courtyard opened. Faint yellow candle light spilled out and the curvaceous shape of a lass moved through the portal exiting Kyler’s suite. A man’s shadow leaned out and even though it was hard to tell in the dim light Caspar felt sure that the two shadows were sharing the parting kiss of lovers. As soon the lovers parted Caspar caught sight of Kyle’s face and grasped the crystal in his hand and said, “Invoca.”

In an instant, he was flying through the night. He reached Kyle’s door just it closed and Caspar passed through it and into the body just behind the door. Caspar’s senses seemed to come alive and he staggered. Everything was slightly off. Cool air moved over his naked body and by the easy swinging of his flaccid cock Caspar knew he was still a man. Moving through the room by the light of a single candle Caspar found a mirror standing on a dresser. At the sight of Kyler’s handsome face, Caspar grinned.

“Well, my lad, you are the best warrior in the castle, but not for much longer!” Caspar grabbed, tunic, trousers, boots, and Kyler’s sword belt and once dressed put out the light. Waiting until his eyes had adjusted to the dark Caspar made his way through the castle by the hidden passages to his own, royal suite. Safely in his own room Caspar moved to the apparently sleeping form of the prince. “I must say, you are a handsome devil, Prince Caspar!” he laughed. Caspar grunted as he picked up his own body, surprised at how heavy it was. He carried it from the balcony to the main suite and drop his sleeping form on the couch by the fireplace.

Then he reached out and pulled the crystal from his own sleeping grasp. For a moment, he wondered if the spell would be broken, would breaking contact with the crystal cause him to return to his body. When nothing happened, he let out a sigh of relief.

Now he moved to the table where he’d left a torn woman’s nightgown. Dropping the necklace over his head he gripped the crystal in one hand and the gown in the other.

“Invoca!”

For a moment, nothing happened and he thought he’d done something wrong then the tingling hit him. Once again, the feeling of clay under a sculptor’s hand consumed him. Flesh shifted, dark hair turned to blonde. Breasts blossomed, hips widened, and the sucking feeling in his crotch was matched by a shrinking sensation as he lost height and weight.

Caspar gasped. Everything was off and wrong. Heavy breasts swung from his chest and his center of gravity was wrong. Slowly, on tiny feet, he moved through the dimly lit room to the mirror. By candle light he saw the image of the Duchess Annika wearing Kyler’s too large clothes. He reached up with tiny fingers to trace the intoxicating beauty of her face. Then a wicked grin quirked the corners of his mouth and an evil giggle bubbled up.

“Ah, my friend you are in for a night you will never forget!”

The sound of Annika’s sweet voice sent a shiver down his now delicate spine. Slowly, as if teasing a crowded hall, Caspar moved swaying his hips and twisting and spinning he sent one overly large item of male clothing to the floor after another. Once naked he moved to his royal body and returned the crystal to his former masculine hand. Then Caspar went to a cupboard where he kept a special libation.

The drink was one he’d had Horus make from time to time. It was a potion designed to inflame the libido, to dampen inhibitions, to intensify every sexual sensation, and to dull the wit. He’d used it and he’d even shared it, covertly, with Sonja. When she turned down his advances one too many times, he’d slipped it into her drink and enjoyed the results.

Now he lifted the bottle to his rosebud lips and drank a healthy swallow of the sweet liquid. At once Caspar could feel the fire in his veins. Still naked he moved to his own royal bed and slowly stretched out upon it. The feeling of silken sheets on his soft skin sent goose flesh rippling down his back. He crawled forward feeling the cool air on his flesh like a lover’s caress. His bountiful jugs swung freely beneath him, his bright pink nipples almost touching the sheets and he felt flushed and a little drunk. From previous use, he recognized the first signs of the potion. Once in the middle of the enormous playground he rolled over feeling the weight on his chest shift and settle.

Memories of the whore, Ida’s, body floated through his mind. Shame, loathing, desire, and need washed through him. He remembered the comments from the slave, Nefertari, that he couldn’t know a woman’s pleasure and that she pitied men. “You couldn’t be more wrong, you little slut!” The sound of Annika’s voice speaking his words thrilled him and he reached up to rub his soft chest. Every sensation felt enhanced, the feather light touch to his breasts sent electric jolts of pleasure through his crotch and he rubbed his thigh’s together trying to fill the new ache. Then he slid one hand down between his legs and gasped as his questing fingers found the soft slit.

Parting moist lips he could feel the heat and need blossom tenfold and he gasped arching his back. When his gently stroking hand found the nub of Annika’s clit he came in a sudden clenching rush. “O-h, g-gods the elixir is working.” He gasped. For a moment, he thought about continuing his exploration of Annika’s body from the inside, and then he remembered Kyler in the yard. The sting in his shoulder when Kyler bested him. Two fingers buried knuckle deep in his pussy he moaned and whispered.

“Reditum.”

In an instant the room seemed to spin around and Caspar sat up gasping. He looked down at the crystal in his hand and laughed setting it to one side. He stood up and hurried to the bedroom. From the doorway, he saw the shadowy from of Annika naked, writhing in heat, her fingers pushing in and out of her sex, on his bed. Her body squirmed and shook caught up in the carnal heat of the potion. Laughing on the inside Caspar moved onto the bed.

“Mhmmmm . . . oh, gods.” The soft alto murmured into the darkness. “I-is this a dream?”

Without answering Caspar moved between the confused woman’s legs and pulled her hand away from the sopping wet pussy. Then he guided his iron hard member to her velvety lips. “Aye, you are lady Annika, and this is but a dream.” Then he pushed into her, impaling the new woman on his rampant cock.

“A-ahhh” she gasped eyes going wide and hands grasping the silken sheets. Knowing that Kyler was fully in the clutches of the enchanted libation and still confused at waking up in a female body, Caspar wasted no time. Reaching down to rub Annika’s clit with one hand he started pumping his cock in and out of her. “Ah, Annika, long have you dreamed of submitting to your Prince. You want nothing more than to give your body to me. To be my horny little slut and obey my every command!”

Caspar watched as the words seemed to sink into the dazed mind of the transformed warrior. Caspar knew the power of the potion. Kyler’s mind, now fully under its influence would soon believe that he was Annika. That she was dreaming, and that she’d always wanted to give her body to the Crown Prince.

“Annika?” The woman murmured and gasped as Caspar played her like a virtuoso. In a matter of seconds, she clutched the sheets lifting her hips meeting his every thrust while tossing her head from side-to-side, as her first orgasm pulsed through her, heightened by the potion. Kyler couldn’t deny the carnal sensations roaring through her young body and cried out in pleasure.

Then Caspar pulled out and walked across the room. When he returned, he was carrying a large mirror in a stand. He placed this by the bed along with a lamp. “I’ve always enjoyed watching as I train a new girl. I know you’ll love this, Annika.”

“I-I don’t think . . . I-I’m not . . . A-Annika.” The voice was confused, almost more of a question than a statement.

Caspar climbed onto the bed and grabbed a fist full of Kyler’s blonde hair lifting his head so that he had to look into the mirror. “Who do you see?”

“The D-Duchess A-Annika.”

“Good girl. This is because you ARE Annika. You’re deepest fantasy has come true, you are in my bed. You’re greatest longing, most powerful desire is to have me, your Prince, take you like a common whore and teach you what it means to be a woman. Now, get on all fours.”

Kyler wanted to fight, to argue, but he couldn’t think and his very reflection told him that the idea that he was someone else, a man, must be wrong. His eyes met Caspar’s and he . . . submitted.

Still facing the mirror, Kyler moved onto all fours, she felt her enormous udders swing freely below her chest. Caspar moved into position behind her and she gasped when he pushed his still glistening cock into her from behind. Reaching around he once again stroked her clit only now his cock hit the bundle of nerves inside her vagina with each stroke.

Kyler’s eyes returned to her reflection, the Duchess Annika, her face flushed with pleasure, gasping as Caspar drove into her from behind. Quickly Kyler’s body rose to the heights of pleasure. Screaming in pleasure she wanted nothing more than to stay like this, forever.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no m-my lord.”

“Do you love what I’m doing to you?”

“Y-Yes my lord, oh, don’t stop!” As Kyler said this she tried to clamp down on Caspar’s cock with her inner muscles.

“Tell me your name?”

“Annika.”

“Do you love being a woman?”

“Yes.”

Caspar once again picked up the pace reaching under to play with Kyler’s amazing breasts. “Do you love being my slut, my toy, the royal whore?”

“Oh, gods . . . yes!”

This time when Kyler spasmed in the throes of orgasmic bliss Caspar spurted into her filling her womb with his seed. As they came down from the heights of pleasure, Caspar ran his calloused hands over her soft skin. “The night is still young, my whore. You have much to learn if you wish to share my bed again!”

Pre-dawn light filtered in through Caspar’s windows when he picked up the magic neckless. Looking down at the exhausted and sleeping Kyler he grinned. “How much will he remember?” he mused. The potion had a way of leaving the body exhausted and the mind with dim memories of what had happened while under its influence.

“Invoca.”

Sitting up Caspar shuddered, trying to ignore the fatigue, the deep ache emanating from his well-used crotch, and the strange female body he now wore. Using the pendant, he changed back into Kyler’s normal body. Now free of the influences of the elixir and no longer sore he climbed off the bed. He was tired, but it was a more natural exhaustion. An exhaustion based on having spent most of the night rutting rather than sleeping. Careful to return the pendant to his sleeping body he dressed before sneaking out of the royal suite. The return to Kyler’s apartments took a few minutes and once safe in Kyler’s room he stripped and climbed into the young warrior’s bed before whispering, “Reditum!”

Sitting up and gasping Caspar looked at the well-used and crumpled bed. “Sonja thought that denying me meant a lost night of pleasure. Well, she was wrong!” After settling into his own bed Caspar’s wicked mind strayed to thoughts of Sonja, and how he might use his new toy on her.

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.

**A drunken Caspar, feeling lonely at the loss of his friend Kyler, decides it's time to spend time with his wife, the Princess Sanja.**

Caspar reigned in his tall gilding and looked down the river valley. From this elevation, he could see the mighty river Vanna as it coiled around Castle Vanaheim and the town that surrounded it. The castle that Caspar called home was relatively new, having been built by his grandfather after he united the seven fiefdoms into one kingdom. The afternoon sunlight caught the waters of the Vanna setting it alight and bathing the town that grew up around the castle in a reflected beauty.

The sound of hooves and the barking of the hounds interrupted his revere. Cord, Caspar’s closest remaining friend and the son of the Baron of àrDachaigh, pulled his horse to s stop a next to Caspar. The horse was blowing from the hard ride but Cord looked to be in worse shape. Several inches shorter than Caspar he had the fat of a youth who’d never been forced onto the training grounds by his father. However, Caspar knew from personal experience that. he could drink men twice his age under the table and in addition to playing the lute he knew every tavern song in the realm. At night, he made a fine drinking companion.

Going hunting had been something Caspar had forced upon Cord since the departure of his friend Kyler. After forcing a woman’s body onto Kyler and using him for sport, Caspar had thought his friend had convinced himself that it had all been a dream. The day after had been filled by Kyler looking strangely at Caspar and then glancing away before Caspar could catch his eye. Caspar had caught him muttering to himself and that night Kyler had gotten himself drunker than Caspar had ever seen. Still, his friend had said nothing.

His work in the training yard had suffered since Kyler’s mind seemed somewhere else and he’d kept glancing up into the rainbow of dresses as the women of the castle watched. By the fifth day Caspar started to wonder if he needed to act, to bring Kyler out of his strange ill mood. He considered a repeat performance, the idea of Kyler once again trapped in the lithe body of Annika, squirming under him, begging to be taken gave him a raging erection. ‘Yes,’ Caspar made up his mind, tonight he’d once again introduce Kyler to the many carnal pleasures he’d mastered.

That afternoon a messenger had burst into the castle. King Oberon and Gunter had taken the message in the privacy of the King’s study much to Caspar’s annoyance. Word had travel, by servant gossip, to where Caspar sat drinking in one of the castle’s gardens. The slave Nefertari brought the news to him.

Besides the sorcerer, Horus, she was the only one who knew of his crystal neckless. He’d used it on her several times to cause her to take other shapes for his pleasure. Today he’d needed information and had enlisted the beautiful woman to his cause. Using the necklace, he’d caused her to take on the shape of Clove a servant who’d been with Caspar’s family since before he was born. The real Clove had left the day before to visit her daughter in town. Her daughter was due to deliver her second child any day and Clove had some knowledge of midwifery.

Through this deception, Caspar had discovered that Pictish raiders had come up the coast in their crude boats and were troubling the coastal towns. Knowing his father, Gunter would be dispatched to deal with the problem. What had caught Caspar off guard was that King Oberon had decided to go and had taken both Gunter and Kyler. He’d left Caspar in charge of the castle during his absence. Caspar enjoyed the responsibility, for the first day. After that the drudgery of the many duties, the Lord of the Castle was required to perform, weighed on him.

Two weeks after leaving, the Warband returned. To Caspar’s disappointment Kyler wasn’t with them. After dealing with the raiders and setting their boats aflame. Kyler had left the warband. He’d explained to his father that he need to take some time to travel the lands of Hyboria and learn of its people.

“My lord, I am famished, exhausted from the hunt and in need of refreshment. Shall we not return to the town? I know a tavern on the way to the castle with the comeliest wenches in all of Vanaheim!”

Cord’s comment brought Caspar back to the present and he grinned slapping his friend on the back. “Aye, I think a pint or six might go down smoothly. Tell the huntsman to return to the Castle and deliver our game to the cook. Now that the King is in residence I am free to spend the night in a tavern!”

Caspar stumbled to his chamber. His head spun from the wine and strong drink. Yet he knew he didn’t want to sleep. His mind drifted to Sanja, his wife, she had started to show the signs of being pregnant, with a nicely rounded belly, and she didn’t want him sniffing around. Being turned down by his own wife was humiliating. Her words rang out in his mind.

“Pah! You’ve spent the afternoon drinking. Now you come to me fresh from a whore demanding my attention. Get out!”

At this Caspar had denied his dalliance and demanded his right as a husband. Sanja had glared at him with her bright green eyes, “You’re a man. You just can’t understand what I’m going through, now leave me alone.”

Standing alone in his chamber it hit him. She was right. There was the dim memory of a night in a whore’s body, but as frightening as that had been it had also, if he were honest, been enjoyable. Then there was Nefertair’s innuendos. Her blatant enjoyment of every moment she spent riding his cock and her teasing comments, that if she had a cock and he had a pussy, she’d teach him the true meaning of pleasure. During many a long night of debauchery he’d considered taking her up on her challenge, but for some reason he always held back. Perhaps she was just too eager to own a cock.

Now standing in his darkened room Caspar knew he had a way to show Sanja that he did understand women. He laughed, and took the necklace from the safe where he kept it. He could understand HER far better than Sanja thought possible. Once he had the pendant on he moved through the castle to Princess Sanja’s rooms. There were no guards outside her doors, none would dare to hurt the princess. Pausing Caspar knocked before entering. The sitting room was gilded in gold-leaf work with polished white wood. Even at night with only a few lamps the room felt light and airy. Caspar staggered still drunk through the room to Sanja’s bedchamber, “Sanja! Wife! I have a way to resolve our problem.” Caspar threw open the door and used his lamp to light the lamp on the table before moving to the one next to the mirror.

Sanja sat up in bed. Her white sleeping gown clung to her luscious curves and after rubbing her eyes glared at her husband. “I’m trying to sleep. The babies, you put in me, take all my strength!”

“Yes, but this is important! You said I don’t know what you’re going through, and I agree, I don’t. Yet, I have a way to solve this.”

Sighing, Sanja slid her legs over the side of the bed, parted the curtains and stood up. For a moment, she rubbed her sensitive swollen breasts and then the slight bulge of her tummy. Then she glared at Caspar, “How can you, a man, solve the mystery of child birth?”

“With this!” Caspar pulled a crystal pendant out from under his tunic and held it out to her. In the light the crystal caught fire and Sanja gasped. “W-What is it?”

“Magic!” Caspar slurred drunkenly, a wild look in his eye. “A magic that will bring us together like nothing else.”

“You’re drunk!” Sanja stated folding her arms below her breasts and glaring at her husband. “Now, get out.”

“Nay, it is true, I have partaken of the juice of the grape, but I am not drunk! Yet, if you want me to leave, then this body might, but it won’t be ME.” Caspar gripped the crystal in one hand and in a rush, he added, “Sanja, invoke!”

This time it felt like a force pushed him and he stumbled from his body. Everything had frozen in place. Caspar looked back and saw his body holding the crystal looking large and intimidating. Then he looked over at Sanja and just then he saw a ghostly image of his wife float up away from her physical body. For a moment, they looked at each other and then a power seemed to grab Caspar just under his phantom heart and with a jerk he was drawn into Sanja’s waiting body.

All at once his senses came alive. He sucked air into his lungs gasping and the soft feminine sounds of he made set his heart racing. Caspar looked over as Sanja stumbled forward. She was clearly off balance in his body, and drunk.

“Sanja, are you okay?” The words were soft and delicate and the sound sent a thrill through Caspar.

The blonde man looked at her and blinked. “W-Why do you look like me?” Then his hands flew to his throat. “What’s wrong with my voice?!”

“Come with me.” Caspar moved forward to take Sanja’s hand. The first few steps felt odd and off. He felt a weight on his belly and the orbs on his chest moved freely bouncing in an unconstrained way beneath the sleeping gown. Taking Sanja’s large male hand in his soft delicate one sent a shiver through him. The full-length mirror that Sanja used, when dressing, evaluate each new outfit, was off to one side. When they were in front of it Sanja let out a deep gasp and moved forward. Disbelief clearly written on his swiftly sobering face. Standing inches from the mirror she raised her hands to touch her face and watched the image copy her movements. “I-I’m you. I’m the royal prince. I’m Caspar!”

“Yes, I told you. Magic. Now we can learn about each other.”

“What if I don’t want to learn about you?” The words were harsh, alcohol induced, yet the ring of truth hung between them.

“I need to understand you. We’re not swapping back. Not for a week. You can be me, train, go to meetings, learn to debauch. I’ll do needle point and try to understand what it feels like to grow a life within my body.”

Sanja spun around, lost her balance, and staggered to the side. She grabbed a table and then glared at Caspar. “What gives you the right to do this?”

“I’m the Crown Prince. You are my wife. Obey!”

The words sounded less forceful coming from his new petite form, yet Sanja seemed to wilt within his body. With a life time of training to obey, and as much alcohol as Caspar had consumed, Sanja was in no state to argue.

“Now, put out the lights and come to bed.”

Sanja nodded, slightly drunk, and in the darkness followed her husband to bed.

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.

** Now wearing the body of Princess Sanja, Prince Casper starts to learn that perhaps he hasn't been such a good person. **

Caspar slowly clawed his way toward consciousness. As he did he had a vague feeling that something was wrong. He lifted a hand to his head and moaned. Then froze. The sound was wrong. It was high pitched and soft . . . the sound of a woman. Then the events of yesterday returned. The drink. His wife’s refusal to take him into her chambers. The acerbic comments that he’d never understand. More drinking and then the decision to understand.

Slowly, Caspar sat up. The shifting weight on his chest told him it hadn’t been a dream. Then he looked over at the large male form sprawled across his wife’s bed. The man had tossed his tunic to one side and his breeches to the other while kicking off his boots. Dressed only in his small-clothes, the semi-nude body caused Caspar’s heart to flutter. He slid from the bed and had to steady himself for a moment. Everything felt off. The whole room seemed bigger. Taking his first step Caspar realized that there was nothing between his legs. Gasping he lifted his hands to his chest and the sensitive flesh sent an intense jolt through his body. Still holding his heavy breasts Caspar moved toward the mirror. Sunlight streamed through a high window and under the light Caspar gasped at what he saw.

His wife, Sanja, in a white sleeping gown, red hair spilling down over one shoulder looked out at him from the mirror. He moved closer and the image in the mirror match his every movement. He lifted a delicate hand and ran it feather light over his features. The woman in the mirror copied him. Then his hands drifted lower. The milk filled orbs on his chest demanded attention and he hefted the weight feeling a spark of energy that ran through his body. As if in a dream, he reached between his legs. The absence of his cock was expected but the warm feelings as he rubbed his new pussy caught him off guard. Caspar felt a fluttering movement just under his tummy and gasped when he realized what it was.

“Oh, gods, I’m Sanja.” He whispered, “and I’m pregnant.” At the sound of his voice there was a deep male grunt and he looked over to see that Sanja had rolled over. Then he spotted the crystal still around Sanja’s neck. “I need to change us back before she wakes up!”

Moving carefully Caspar glided onto the bed. Every movement was slow and smooth. The idea of Sanja waking up and confronting him in her body was humiliating. He tried to bed over and take the necklace, but he was too small to reach it. Hardly daring to breath he moved over Sanja’s prone form as she lay stretched out on her back. With one creamy leg to either side of Sanja’s now masculine waist, his enormous breasts hanging down into his former, rugged, masculine face, Caspar reached toward the chain, planning to slowly work it up and over the sleeping royal head. Just then Sanja’s eyes flew open. Green eyes stared into blue, and a crooked smile split his face. Powerful hands gripped his hips capturing him and with one strong move rolled them over.

“Good morning, wife, you must be feeling the need for love.” The rumble of the masculine voice sent a jolt of panic into Caspar. “Climbing atop your husband just as a dockside whore mounts her client! But then, you already know what it feels like to be a whore. Don’t you!”

“Sanja, In-.” A heavy masculine hand dropped over Caspar’s soft mouth cutting him off. “I don’t think so.” Then Sanja remained on top of Caspar pinning his much smaller body beneath her large frame. “You were so eager for us to learn about each other last night. You told me everything about this necklace. About how you were taken as a woman. About how you wanted to understand life from my point of view. Well, husband, get ready!” It was then that Caspar realized that his former body was naked! At some point, while he’d been looking into the mirror, Sanja had slipped off her small-clothes and then played possum!

Trapped beneath the powerful body of his wife Caspar tried to wiggle free. Sanja removed her hand and he gasped, “Get off me!” His new soft alto caused Sanja to grin. “I don’t think so.” The Sanja holding both of his hands above his head with one hand, pinned to the soft mattress, she started kissing his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Mhmmm . . . I had no idea I smelled so good. Nor did I realize how hard this thing between my legs gets in the morning.”

Caspar tried to wiggle free but his own, former body, was so much bigger the weight pinned him easily. The sensations from her kissing caused his nipples to harden and he felt an ache between his legs. Then he noticed the bulge of something against his tummy and panicked.

“Sanja, please, this was a mistake. I never should have come to you last night. Let’s just swap back?”

“Swap back? Don’t be stupid. You said you wanted to be me for a week.”

Sanja pressed her lips to Caspar’s and using her free hand slipped it up under her nightgown. The soft feeling of her former breasts in her new masculine hand caused her new cock to get even harder. “I’m going to fuck you with your cock. Then, while you get morning sick, I’ll go for a ride on your favorite horse. I’ve not been riding for months.” Then Sanja pinched Caspar’s swollen nipple causing him to gasp. “If, and I do mean if, we swap back it’ll be when I’m ready. Until then, I’m Crown Prince Casper and you’re the Princess Sanja. My wife and you WILL attend to your wifely duties. Now, tell me my name?”

For a moment Sanja’s, blue, eyes locked onto Caspar’s green eyes and then Caspar looked away. “You’re the Crown Prince.”

“And who are you?”

Caspar knew he couldn’t fight Sanja, not right now anyway. She was too big and too strong and held all the advantages. He let out a breath, “I’m princess Sanja.” When he spoke, he felt a tingle in the base of his skull.

“That’s right, I’m Prince Caspar. A man. A warrior. A womanizer, who sleeps with anything in a skirt. You are my wife! Say it!” As Sanja spoke she too felt a soft buzzing at the back of her mind and ignored it. The sight of her husband, under her, almost naked and helpless, hers for the taking was driving all other thoughts from her.

Caspar gasped, there was a deep anger in Sanja’s voice, an anger that Caspar had never heard before. He’d made no secret of his conquests and had assumed that Sanja was happy that he’d found someone else to sleep with when she wasn’t in the mood. For the first time he suspected she hadn’t approved.

“I-I’m your wife.”

“What is your name?”

“Sanja.”

“Are you a man or a woman?” As Sanja asked the question she slid one hand between Caspar’s legs under the gown. She hadn’t put any small clothes on when she’d gone to bed and this gave her open access to Caspar’s new pussy, and she too full advantage. The soft lower lips parted at her rubbing and she could feel her former husband try to wiggle away from the stroking digits.

Caspar tried to fight. He squirmed and wiggled trying to get out from under his former body. It was no use. He was too small and too physically weak. As he struggled Sanja grabbed the bodice of the nightgown he was wearing and in one smooth powerful movement ripped the flimsy fabric from Caspar. Cool air washed over his naked body and he gasped at the raw power Sanja had so easily used. Then spreading his creamy thighs with one hand she used her other to guide her cock toward him.

‘I never knew my manhood was so large,’ Caspar thought and then felt the electric sensation as Sanja rubbed the tip of her penis up and down his tight new slit.

“I’ve always wondered what it felt like for a man.” Caspar lay still, legs spread, frozen between fascination and horror. Gently, Sanja rubbed the tip of her cock over her former pussy. With each stroke, she spread her former lips a little more. “To dominate, to control, to have a woman completely under your power as you take pleasure from her body.” Then with a firm push she shoved her cock into Caspar. “Mmmm . . . that feels, incredible!”

“No, oh gods, no, not again.” Caspar moaned. Even as he denied it the fire and ache within his body contradicted him. Now released from whatever terror had temporarily held him he tried to push Sanja away.

“Yes, you little slut, I’m going to fuck you.” Sanja pulled back just a bit and then drove her tool deeper into her former body. “Oh, fuck, you’re so tight!” She pulled back and Caspar tried to wiggle up and away. Sanja slid her large male hands under his bottom gaining control over Caspar’s lower regions and drove in again. “Oh, but all the gods, never have I felt anything so good!” Sanja gasped. “We should have switched months ago, wife!”

“Hmmm . . . those look good enough to eat.” Sanja noted, repeating a phrase Caspar had used many times. Now building a rhythm Sanja lowered her rough face to the soft cream expanse Caspar’s wildly bouncing breasts and took a bright pink nipple into her mouth. As she tasted the rubbery texture of Caspar’s nipple Sanja felt her ball sack slapping against Caspar’s new feminine bottom and knew she was fully into her former pussy.

The dual sensations of being sucked and filled were more than Caspar could stand. He wrapped his legs around his wife’s narrow athletic hips and pulled her into him. By some instinct, he knew he needed to change the angle just a bit and lifted his hips to meet Sanja’s thrusts. “Oh, gods, right there!” Caspar moaned as Sanja’s cock hit the bundle of nerves inside him.

Sanja picked up the pace, glorying in the power her new body possessed, it seemed effortless to thrust into her former tight cunt. The sight of her now sweat slick husband moaning and rutting under her gave her a feeling of power she’d never imagined.

As the rhythm, increased Caspar stopped thinking. The feeling of being taken. Being owned completely by her man was all she could grasp, as Sanja showed that she knew every inch of her body and how to touch it. Balls deep within Caspar’s pussy, Sanja stopped, “Tell me your name.” She wasn’t sure why she needed to hear it only that she did.

“I’m C-Caspar” Caspar gasped. Sanja reached down and twisted a nipple, “Not with breasts like these.” Then she moved her hips, “Not with my royal cock buried in your sweet love tunnel. Tell me your name.” This time she slowly pulled almost all the way out before violently plunging in.

Caspar gasped, “I’m Sanja.”

“Are you a man or a woman?”

Trying to fight it but now teetering at the edge of a climax Caspar gasped, “A woman.”

Driving her husband over the edge Sanja watched as he screamed in pleasure, “And you were always meant to be a woman, admit it.”

“Oh, by the gods, yes! Yes, O-Oh, yes, right there!”

Hearing and feeling her husband’s submission caused Sanja’s balls to clench up and then he exploded within Caspar. “Just as I, was always meant to be a man!” Unnoticed by either husband or wife the crystal glowed faintly for a moment.

Two hours later, both husband and wife lay upon the bed, fully spent and sated. The crystal pendant lay on Sanja’s broad masculine chest while Casper dozed with an arm draped over him. Caspar’s every feminine curve molded to her man and she sighed in contentment. Caspar thought that if she asked, Sanja would give him the necklace and with a word she’d be a man again. Yet something stopped her.

“You have to leave soon. It’s almost time to train in the yard.”

At this Sanja sat up, “I don’t know anything about fighting. Other than what my father taught me, in order to defend my honor.”

Caspar looked up with heavy eyes, “Just follow what everyone else does and do the drills. Horus said that the knowledge and skills remained with the body. You should be fine if you don’t think about it too much.”

Reluctantly, Sanja got up and moved to put on her husband’s clothes. “You need to get up too. You’re expected to be dressed and watching your warrior husband smash all around him!”

“I suppose.” Caspar said sitting up. The feeling of his naked breasts moving around freely was at once strange and familiar. He reached up to capture the bouncing orbs and enjoyed the feeling of holding his own heavy udders. Then a wave of nausea hit him and he rushed to the chamber pot. Putting his face into the vile smelling receptacle Caspar vomited. There wasn’t much in his stomach but for several minutes the cramps and the vomiting were all that he could think of and then . . . at last . . . he settled back. “Was that morning sickness?”

He looked up to see an amused expression on his former face. “Yes, and you can have it! I’ve been getting sick every morning for a month.” Caspar watched as his former body spun around and walked to the door. At the door Sanja paused, “You are a woman and soon you’ll be a mother. I must admit, I was terrified of giving birth. My own mother died in child birth and by your kindness it is an ordeal I will now watch instead of endure.” Then Sanja opened the door and before stepping out said, “I’ll send your maid in to help you get ready.”

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.

** Sanja now in the powerful body of her husband begins to explore life as the Crown Prince and discovers she likes it! **

The sun beat down on Sanja’s bare back as she moved. The spear and shield felt normal, natural, to her. She’d been so nervous walking down onto the practice field. She’d started a mantra, “I’m Caspar, the crown price. I’m Caspar, the strongest man in the castle. I’m Caspar, the mightiest warrior within these walls!” Over and over she repeated the mantra each time she felt a small tingle in her mind and felt little more confident. By the time she arrived on the sand in the training area her walk and posture had changed. No longer did she move with the swayed hips of a woman. Instead, she moved with the smooth strong steps of a virile man at the height of his physical power.

Today, the training had shifted to infantry tactics. The shield, spear, and shield wall were drilled into the warriors. Sanja had a few missteps at first but she kept telling herself that she was Caspar and soon everything started to click. At the end of the training Sanja looked up and saw the rainbow of colorful gowns along the balconies surrounding the training yard. She felt her cock stir at the sight and then her eyes caught the perfectly white dress. The delicate lace and parasol to provide shade where items she’d picked out herself. The flash of a smile from the red-headed woman made her grin. ‘My husband looks lovely in white lace,’ she thought. Then she lifted her spear in salute. As she did she caught sight of a dark slave just behind Caspar.

She felt her heart race and her cock became hard as iron. ‘Who is that? And why does she affect my body so?’ Determined to solve the mystery Sanja headed to the baths.

It had been the strangest morning of Caspar’s life. Even though he’d been a woman once before he’d never spent more than an hour in a female body. After Sanja left he sat in his bed, horrified, unable to move, as he thought about giving birth. He’d moved his hands over his slightly rounded belly and felt a responding twitch of movement from within. “I’m a woman. I will be a mother soon.” The statements drove the horror of his situation home. “I’ve got to get Caspar to swap us back.” Then he realized he’d called Sanja by his name. “What is that damned necklace doing to me?” He stood up and slowly moved to wrap a light rose colored robe around him and walked to the sitting room. As soon as he entered he noticed a tray on the setae and a maid standing quietly to one side.

“What’s for breakfast, Trula?”

Then for an instant he froze. How did he know her name? The maid smiled, “Porridge, a small bit of beacon, eggs, toast, and fresh fruit.”

After being sick Caspar thought he wouldn’t be hungry but the smell of the food was enough to cause his mouth to water. He moved to the table and the maid moved around behind him to help with the chair. “This is lovely.” He said and then wondered why he felt the need to complement. After breakfast, he’d traveled with a group of girls who’d been waiting for him, to the baths. The women’s baths were separated from the men’s and even though he’d peeked into them from time to time he’d never seen them while in use.

The hot pool was full of women soaking and while the cold pool was used it didn’t have anyone lingering in it. Then there was a common area with stools and buckets. Knowing what to do Caspar hung his robe from a hook and moved to an empty stool. After settling onto it a bathe-house maid showed up with a soft sponge and a bucket. The woman was efficient as she cleaned Caspar and he had to resist shivering in pleasure as she used the sponge. ‘Why does every inch of my body feel so sensitive?’ Once clean and rinsed Caspar moved to the hot bath and settled into it. Normally as he eased himself into the hot water. He had to be careful of his cock and balls. Now without them he found it much easier to slip into the hot water. After a few minutes of soaking he felt a weird movement in his tummy. As if he had gas, but on a whole new level. The movements continued and then it hit him. These were his babies! He was a pregnant woman and the babies in his womb where moving around. Again, he remembered Sanja’s comment, ‘He wouldn’t really leave me like this for the next few months, would he?’

Feeling powerless he stood up and moved to the cold bath. If the babies had been moving before now the sting of the cold sent them rolling and punching within his womb. “Settle down in there, you’ll have plenty of chances to fight once you’re born!” he whispered rubbing his tummy. Next, he’d had to endure the process of getting dressed. It wasn’t like he could grab tunic and trousers. He had to wear a gown. The gown was selected by his senior lady-in-waiting. An ancient crone who’d been appointed by his mother. Once dressed he’d been escorted to a balcony to watch “her husband” train for war.

The sight of his body on the training grounds caused Caspar to lean forward. ‘Please don’t make a fool of me.’ Caspar thought. To his surprise not only did Sanja do well, she appeared to dominate the other men. Soon she was leading a phalanx against the one led by Gunter. The fighting seemed chaotic to the women around Caspar, but he knew what he was watching and was riveted by the spectacle. When the drills were done, Caspar saw Sanja look around. Knowing how hard it was to spot anyone in the sea of dresses Caspar stood up and moved forward into the light. At once Sanja seemed to spot him and lifted her spear in response.

A quick blush of pleasure filled Caspar and then he felt a presence. With a quick glance over his shoulder and Caspar spotted the slave, Nefertari, to one side. For a moment, he felt a flash of jealousy. Then he suppressed it. The slave was beautiful. It was only natural that men were drawn to her. Caspar shook his head, the sooner Sanja switched them back the better!

Sanja climbed the steps to Caspar’s royal suite. The bath attendants had cleaned her and she now wore fresh raiment. Her body practically hummed from an endorphin high as she took the steps three at a time. After the training session Sanja had still felt full of energy and had ordered Caspar’s charger made ready for a ride. This had surprised the groom because he was preparing the King’s own horse. Normally, the prince and king didn’t ride together.

Feeling excited and wanting to test herself Sanja climbed into the saddle and waited for Oberon. After a few minutes the King appeared along with his closest knights. Seeing the man, he thought was his son already in his saddle the king showed surprise.

“Prince Caspar, have not your exertions on the practice field wore you out?”

Sanja laughed knowing she’d caught the king by surprise. “Nay, father, I am in good spirits this day. I would ride with you, if you’ll have me.”

The king nodded and climbed into his saddle. He looked at his son and Sanja thought she heard him mutter something about Caspar being up to something. At this Sanja had to hide a grin. Caspar was indeed up to something and Sanja suspected, based on the time of day, it was needle point. Well, she could have it, she much preferred to be outside and in the saddle. As Sanja thought about this she realized that after training it was Caspar’s custom to bath, and indulge in an early afternoon drinking game or two. Then he’d find either a castle slave or maid and satisfy his lust within her before dressing for dinner. He rarely joined the king for a ride.

King Oberon held the small troupe of nobles to a walk until they were through Castletown and then over the north bridge. Once on the forest road he put his spurs to his thoroughbred and leapt into a gallop. In seconds the only horse able to keep up was the beast Sanja rode. A wild grin crossed her new masculine face as she leaned into the ride. Sanja had always loved horses and had been a gifted rider. Now she put every skill she’d mastered as a girl to the test.

For several long minutes they were side by side. King Oberon was of a height with Caspar but he was broader through the shoulders from years of battle and middle age had thickened his waist. His horse had to carry the greater burden and it started to show. Rather than admit defeat the King threw back his head and with a laugh shouted “Whoa.”

Sanja pulled her horse to a stop next to the king who gave him an apprising look and then the king climbed out of the saddle and taking the reins started walking. Sanja climbed down and walked next to him as the horses cooled down.

“What is it Caspar? What do you want?”

Sanja looked at Oberon. “Nothing father. I simply wished to ride and since you were going out I thought I’d join you.”

“Perhaps, but with you there is always more.” Sanja didn’t know what to say so held her tongue. After a few minutes the king added, “While I was gone, dealing with the raiders, I’m told you did a good job as Steward of Castle Vanaheim.”

Sanja remembered Caspar’s holding court and trying to run things. He’d clearly hated it, yet he’d done it. “I tried father. I guess it made me realize that the time for youthful carousing is over. I need to learn what is required to run the kingdom.”

At this the king stopped walking and looked searchingly into Sanja’s eyes. Sanja met his gaze and didn’t look away. “At last!” Oberon reached out and gripped Sanja’s shoulder, “I have been waiting for the day when you’d finish sowing your oats and ask this of me. On the morrow, instead of the training yard, join me in the hall of judgment. You will sit in attendance while I hold court. When we are done you and I will go back to my study and go over the judgements. You may ask me questions and I’ll explain why I made each decision.”

Sanja opened the door to Caspar’s apartments and caught the hint of coconut. This was a scent she’d never been particularly fond of but she felt her cock stir in a trained response. Moving into her bed chamber her breath caught. The ebony skinned beauty was stretched out, naked, on her bed!

“W-What are you doing here?”

The sight of Nefertari sent Sanja’s new male blood singing through her body, but she held back. She’d always hated the idea that Caspar spent his seed on any woman he desired. It was the idea that she wasn’t able to satisfy her man the left Sanja feeling upset and like less of a woman.

“My lord, did you not order me to await your pleasure, every night, prior to the start of the evening’s feast?”

A faint buzz filled Sanja’s head and she knew the slave was right. “You are beautiful, Nefertari, but I’ve no need of you. My wife, Sanja, has taken up her wifely duties with a new vigor that has left me without the need of your attentions.”

The Stygian woman moved from the bed with the liquid grace of a born athlete. Instead of looking upset or defeated she moved to a cabinet not far from the bed. “If that be the case my lord, allow me to fix your favorite draught.”

Sanja just nodded his eyes enjoying the taunt play of muscles just below her round ass. She took a strange looking clay phial down and emptied its contents into a cup and brought it to him. Moving toward him Nefertari glided to her knees, dropping her head and extending her arms to hold up the cup. Feeling a little suspicious at the look of lust she’d given him Sanja grunted, “You first.”

Without missing a beat Nefertari brought the cup to her dark lips and drank and then once again extended it. “It will restore your vitality, master.”

“Yes, I know.” Sanja had no idea what was in the cup, but it had been in Caspar’s cabinet and this slave seemed to be familiar with it. Taking the cup Sanja downed it in one swift gulp. The liquid was too sweet and a little thick. It reminded her of a syrup sometimes used by the cooks.

“May I help my lord change?” Without waiting for a response, seeming unaware that she was still naked, Nefertari moved to Sanja and started to undress him.

“I-I can manage.” Sanja said, weakly. “I have almost two hours before tonight’s dinner. I do not need help.” As she spoke Sanja knew that Caspar would never turn down the help of a beautiful woman. Then she felt dizzy, she reached up to rub her head and it felt sort of thick. ‘What was in the drink?’ she wondered. Then as if thinking about it had summoned its power she felt Caspar’s cock responded. In an instant, it was painfully hard and Sanja gasped.

Nefertari moved to her belt buckle and before the dazed and distracted Sanja realized what was happening her belt and trousers were undone. With the ease of familiarity, Nefertari reached in and pushing the codpiece to one side pulled out Caspar’s pride and joy. The feeling of Nefertari’s soft hand on Sanja’s red-hot rod made her gasp.

“W-What are y-you d-doing?” The words slipped out before Sanja could think.

“My lord’s strength has been restored. I would not send my lord to dinner tense and in pain from a lack, of proper, service.” Then she blew on Sanja’s shaft. She’d never felt anything like it. The new tool she’d just acquired was impossibly large from the magically enhanced inundation of blood. The skin drawn dreadfully tight and every sensation magnified a hundred-fold. In that second, Sanja almost ejaculated. Grinding the teeth in her new male mouth Sanja grabbed the back of one of the tall chairs in Caspar’s suite for support. Then Sanja felt Nefertari wrap her lips around her shaft.

“O-Oh gods’ woman. You have a gift!”

Nefertari slowly swallowed the man she thought was the prince until she’d reached her gage reflex at the back of her mouth. Using the training she’d received in Stygia she pushed it past, deep throating the prince.

The drug that coursed through Sanja filled Nefertari with an intense need as well. Just as it had pushed Kyler over the edge of reason and into a state of insatiable carnal lust, Nefertari felt it eating at the edges of her control. Suddenly, she felt the balls on her chin pull up and the cock in her throat quiver. Massaging Caspar’s sack there was an explosion of a hot fluid, hitting the back her throat, blasting its way in powerful jets to her tummy.

“Oh, by all that is holy, that was amazing.” Sanja gasped and felt Nefertari pull away. For a long moment, a thick thread of glistening sliver spittle and cum connected Nefertari’s full lips to the tip of Sanja’s cock. Then it snapped. “I could spend a day letting you do that to me.” Sanja murmured. ‘I wonder if Caspar could be taught to do that. HA! If I tell him I won’t give him this body back until he sucks cock better than Nefertari he might be sufficiently motivated.’ The idea of Caspar in her red-headed body, enormous breasts bouncing as he serviced his former penis caused her stolen cock to twitch and harden.

“It seems my lord is not yet relaxed enough to attend the great hall.” Nefertari noted grasping Sanja’s cock with one dark hand. “The potion will take at least an hour to work its way through your system.” she said guiding him his manhood to a fur that lay before the fire place. Nefertari pushed Sanja onto his back and then straddled him. Still holding Sanja’s cock, she guided it to her dripping wet hole. As she captured him with her warm folds she moaned in pleasure. “Will my lord take me as a Stygian slave? Or will you bring out the magic necklace and use me as the blonde norther beauty?”

For a second Sanja was confused and then she realized that Caspar had been using his necklace on the slave girl. Giving her the form of any woman he wished to fuck. ‘Oh, you’re going to pay for that husband.’ Lifting her masculine hands to caress Nefertari’s ebony udders Sanja moaned in pleasure for a moment.

“Nay, I’ll take you as you are.”

By the time his body had been sated Sanja had made up his mind. Caspar wasn’t getting this body back any time soon, if ever. The feeling of power and the pleasure of driving his new man-muscle into a soft pussy was something he didn’t want to give up, just yet. There was also Caspar’s irresponsible behavior. Sanja wasn’t sure how often he’d been using his magic necklace, but she was sure it hadn’t been wise. Besides, he spent most of his time drinking and whoring and there was a country that needed a wise ruler when King Oberon passed away.

Having made up his mind to take over Caspar’s life, at least temporarily, Sanja felt a weight lift. The new Caspar would be responsible. He would conduct himself as a prince should. He would master war and state craft and be a responsible husband and father, even if his new wife, “Sanja” didn’t deserve it. Turning to the slave, Sanja lifted her chin and brushed his male lips to Nefertari’s.

“Lass, I’m afraid you must go and don’t come back. This was our last dalliance.”

Nefertari looked up at him with large round eyes, “My lord, have I displeased you?”

“Nay. You pleased me greatly. Yet, I am Prince to this realm and must needs take up my duties. Duty to the kingdom, my father, and my wife. You are a luxury I can no longer afford. Now leave.”

Rage flashed over Nefertari’s beautiful face and for a moment Sanja thought she might attack him. Then she scooped up her clothes and careless for her nakedness hurried from the room. Once alone Sanja went to the safe where Caspar had kept the necklace and pulled it out. It was a quick trip to the royal treasury.

Getting past the guards, then opening the locks took time but at last Sanja stood in front of a small iron door, reinforced with steel bands and hinges. Sanja’s new memories told her this was the smallest and oldest vault in the treasury. It had been turned over to Caspar a few years ago, in an effort, to teach him to manage money. It had taken Caspar almost a year to spend the gold within the vault. Now all it held was half a dozen empty locked trunks, chest, and cabinets.

Sanja entered the vault with the key Oberon had given Caspar and used another to open a standing cabinet. Picking the top drawer Sanja dropped the enchanted necklace. “Perhaps I’ll retrieve you someday. But for now, this is the safest place.”

Once Sanja retraced his steps he headed to the great hall. “I’m late but I’m sure father will excuse me.” With a grin Sanja thought about after dinner and what he planned to do to, and with, a certain little red-haired princess.

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.

** The Sorcerer, Horus, tired of serving the royal family is ready at last to make his move. **

“Master, I have failed.”

The words hung in the air and Nefertari quivered in fear. It was never wise to fail a Stygian Sorcerer. Instead of lashing out in anger Horus ran one boney had over his bald brow.

“When was the last time the Prince took your body, and used it for his pleasure?”

“Five nights ago.”

Horus let out a sigh, “Then I’m afraid my, beautiful slave, his attention has wandered.” Slowly, a smile crept over Horus boney face. It wasn’t a pleasant smile and Nefertari shivered in fear. Knowing her life was his to use or dispose of, at his leisure, she threw herself on the floor.

“Mercy, my lord.”

Horus laughed, “You realize that our race, and my kind, do not understand the word, mercy?” Then with a cruel voice he continued, “However, as fate would have it, my use of you is not yet over.” Pulling a ring off his hand and tossed it to the floor in front of Nefertari. “Pick it up and put it on.”

Nefertari swiftly complied wondering what magic the ring contained. “Listen well slave. That ring was made from the same crystal as the pendant in the prince’s necklace. It has two powers. The first, while the ring is worn the necklace’s magic cannot touch the wearer. You might have noticed that I’ve worn that ring every day that you’ve known me.”

“Yes, master. You no longer wish the prince to use his necklace on me?”

“Neither artifact will work on the other while it is worn.” Horus continued ignoring Nefertari’s comment, “That brings us to the second power. During the three days and nights of the full moon the Prince’s necklace loses its magic and the ring gains those powers.”

At this Nefertari’s pulse raced. That meant she held the key to her own freedom.

“Don’t get any idea’s slave. I crafted both items. Betray me and I’ll find you no matter what body you wear and feed your soul to a daemon of the deepest pit!” This time when he spoke Horus’s eyes took on a ruby glow.

“Nay, master, your will shall be done. Instruct poor Nefertari.”

“I have seen Caspar every day, for the last three days in court at King Oberon’s right hand. He now trains in the afternoons with the Knights who’ve been blooded in combat instead of the young bloods. He earned his spurs and it looks like the King has started to teach him the affairs of state.”

“Yes, master, and he spends every night, from the moment he retires until he arises for the day in his wife’s chambers.”

Horus glanced out his window and saw that the last rays of the sun were glimmering across the sky. “Tonight, when the full moon rises that ring will grant you the powers of possession, transformation, and spiritual transference.” Laughing Horus continued, “Now, pay attention for the first steps in my plan must be taken today.”

The silence was heavy, not merely a burden or a need to be cautious but almost physical weight that Caspar could feel on his thin feminine shoulders as he slid unobserved into his former royal apartments. ‘Can it only have been a month?’ he wondered as he moved gracefully, or as gracefully as a woman large with child could, through the suite. For several seconds, he stood there feeling the room. Tasting the air on his dainty feminine tongue and looking from one familiar object in the sitting room to the next. As he did he listened for any sign that the man claiming to be the Crown Prince was in the room.

Satisfied, that Sanja was indeed away riding with the king, Caspar slid his slipper shod feet over the cold flagstone and then stepped onto the thick plush carpet of a rug he’d had made. He could feel the thickness of the rug through his soft slippers and shivered in pleasure rubbing his dainty sensitive feet along the thick material. “He’s gone.” Caspar whispered at once annoyed at his fear of being discovered, in his own rooms, and thrilled at the illicit nature of sneaking into his former apartments. As the princess and wife to the royal prince he should only be here if summoned.

Caspar put aside these feelings he moved toward the bedroom where his personal safe lay hidden behind a painting of the ocean. As he did he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the full-length mirror that he used to use to ensure he was dressed properly for court. The woman staring back was a vision of beauty. With her ever-growing belly, she now wore a dress cut to display both her amazing bodice and her expanding womb. There was a soft glow of motherhood about her. Caspar reached down to gently rub his tummy and felt the sleepy movement of the twins within. ‘Twins! How can the midwife know?’ Yet, he didn’t doubt the prediction. The ladies of the court were a steady source of irritation and information.

They were an irritation because of the non-stop chatter and the fact that he seemed unable to escape them. Although, at times, they explained things to him, repeatedly, that Caspar thought every girl must learn as she grows to womanhood. Even his mother, the queen, got in on it, telling Caspar that he was showing far more than was normal for a woman at this stage of pregnancy. They were also full of advice on how to deliver the babies, a singular act that Caspar was desperate to avoid.

The thought of childbirth brought his mind back to the task at hand and he moved through the bedchamber. The room was neater than Caspar remembered keeping it. “Of course, that brute hasn’t slept here since he claimed a husband’s rights.” The sound of his soft voice no longer startled Caspar, instead he blushed remembering the things he’d done over the past weeks. As Sanja became more and more comfortable in her male role she had demanded Caspar submit to her every command.

Beyond the hours spent using her cock to ride Caspar’s pussy, Sanja had ordered him to display his needle point. Judging it unfit Sanja had made him redo it until she was satisfied that it was as good or better than what she’d once produced. Then there had been the questions. While lying awake after sating her masculine lust upon Caspar’s soft body she’d taken to asking him questions.

Not about his life, as the prince, but about his life as a girl, the youngest member and only daughter of the Baron of Turvasatama’s family. At first Caspar, had thought Sanja was joking when she’d asked him about a time she’d gone riding with her bothers and they’d discovered a tidal pool full of shellfish. Then memory blossomed within Caspar’s mind as though he’d lived it. Filled with excitement he’d relayed the story perfectly to Sanja.

At this she’d nodded, “Yes, I’ve been getting flashes of memory as well. I find it helps if I remind myself that I’m a man, the Crown Prince, and the most powerful warrior in the castle.”

Caspar looked over at his naked husband as she idly played with Caspar’s breasts. The bed’s canopy had left Caspar’s former face in shadow. “But you aren’t the crown prince, I am. Sanja, please we must switch back!”

At this Sanja had laughed and rolled on top of Caspar’s soft body pinning it beneath her larger form. “We aren’t switching back. Or at least, not until you’ve fully accepted your womanhood. You are still resisting.” Then she pushed her cock into Caspar’s pussy, still wet from her most recent use. “How many times have you admitted that you are a woman and that you love being a woman? That you wish you’d been born a woman? How many times have you begged me to fuck you and take you like the little slut you should have been born to be?”

Caspar shook his head to drive off the memory, his braided hair swinging from side to side. That night Sanja had demanded that he uses his mouth and ass to pleasure the royal penis. Every time Caspar had approached a climax Sanja had sensed it and demanded that Caspar admit that his name was Sanja and that he had always wished to be a woman. Caspar knew it wasn’t true, but the pleasure had been too intense and the need to climax seemed far more important. He’d been forced to repeat it over and over, again.

“I’m Sanja. I’m a woman. I always wanted to be a woman. I love the feeling of my husband, Caspar’s, cock inside of me.” The memory of how Sanja had forced him to submit and had taken him made Caspar’s pussy grown moist and his breath quicken. From that point on Sanja had ordered Caspar to repeat his new name 100 times before falling asleep each night. “I am the Princess Sanja, wife to Caspar the Crown Prince, and soon to be mother to his children.”

In the morning Sanja had looked down on Caspar’s still naked body and said in a gentle voice that if Caspar slipped up, and referred to Sanja by any name, other than Caspar, he’d add a year to Caspar’s time in her body. “Never ask to switch back.” Sanja had added. “Once I’m sure that you’ve truly accepted your life as a woman, as a wife, and a mother, only then will I consider restoring us.” Then Sanja had left the room.

Caspar lifted the picture off the wall and grimaced at the weight. She’d never thought this picture was heavy before. Setting it to one side she remembered Horus’s warning. The longer she spent in the form of another the more of that person’s memories, skills, and traits she’d acquire. Caspar shivered. Already, after only a little more than a month, this female body felt normal. The weight of her breasts, the absence of her cock, the easy sway of her hips as she moved through the castle, it all felt normal. Natural. The day after the swap these differences had nearly driven her mad. “I must switch us back.”

Turning the dial on the safe Caspar felt a moment of panic. She couldn’t remember the numbers! ‘No, I remember, the day of my father’s birth, then my mother’s, and last mine.’ She thought and then the click as the lock opened sent a shiver of relief through her tiny body.

Standing on her tip-toes she peered into the safe. Caspar pushed the coins, a bag of uncut jewels, some jewelry she only wore to court on important occasions, to one side looking for the necklace. A panic gripped her, ‘What if he lost it?’ With nothing else to do Caspar closed the safe returned the painting to its peg and hurried from the room. She felt defeated, alone, and afraid. ‘Must I accept his commands? Must I submit to my husband?’ The thought sent another shiver through her and then she shook her head. Despite everything Caspar was the prince and she’d come from a long line of warriors, submission wasn’t a thing she could accept.

For a time, she could pretend to submit, but she’d never truly give up. ‘I’ve been with him every night. I’ve searched his clothes while he slept, he isn’t carrying the necklace.’ Caspar slowly wandered through the castle unsure of where she intended to go as she walked. ‘If I wished to hide something and I didn’t want my wife to find it, where would I hide it?’ Then it struck her. A soft smile quirked the corners of Caspar’s delicate lips. “Oh, you sly boy. You think you’ve out witted me, do you? We shall see.”

The sounds of water splashing and the chatter of woman gossiping filled the laundry chamber. Nefertari moved into the room and none of the slaves present seemed to notice her intrusion. The sight of the exotic Stygian woman, a pleasure slave, if rumors were true, and the Court Sorcerer’s personal slave among the lowly laundry women would have caused much comment. Yet, Nefertari took her place at a tub and went to work. Looking down at her pale hands and short, ill cut, nails she had to stifle a grimace.

Horus had summoned one of the laundry women to his chamber on the pretext of picking up his clothes for cleaning. Hedda, a woman who’d been working in the laundry for a few years had arrived and Horus commanded her to disrobe. Once naked Nefertari saw that Hedda was a buxom woman, and her beasts and stomach showed the stretch marks of child birth. Horus had placed a hand on her head and said, “Somnum” and the woman and slipped to the floor. In seconds her soft snoring told Nefertari that she was indeed asleep.

Using the ring Nefertari and touched the pile of clothes and said, “Invoca.” It had been weeks since the Prince had used the magic to transform her, yet the sensations felt the same. The only difference was that this body was older, well used, and plain. Not the glorious perfection of the blonde Northern woman or the athletic form of his un-pregnant wife. Now it was the perfect cover for what she needed.

By the time Nefertari returned to Horus’s tower her whole body ached. Age and hard work had taken a toll and spending most of the day hunched over a washing board scrubbing had been an unpleasant task. It was worse when the full weight of her breasts had to be supported in that position by the small of her back. When she paused to knock on Horus’s door she smiled, at least she had succeeded with this mission, and would soon be restored to her youthful female form.

King Oberon was in a fine mood, his delinquent son had turned his life around. By all reports he’d given up his womanizing ways and now spent every night with his wife. Not that Oberon blamed him, Sanja was a beautiful lass. When he’d agreed to the marriage, Oberon had hoped she could tame his wild son. After a year of marriage, he’d all but given up hope. Yet, by some miracle it had happened. Not that he begrudged Caspar the chance to sow a few oats, but too many royal bastards running around isn’t good for a kingdom.

Oberon entered his study and saw Gunter stand up and turn to greet him. He was holding a package and had an unusually somber expression on his normally jovial face. “What ails you this afternoon, my good man?”

“I must apologize my lord. I was considering another matter. This arrived for you today.”

Oberon took the package from Gunter and rested a hand on the Master-at-Arms strong shoulder. “Nothing to apologize for, I’m sure Kyler will write soon. He’s been gone now, what? A month? Two? Do not worry.”

“As you say my lord.” Then Gunter gestured to the package. “This arrived today, although I do not know who sent it.”

“Odd,” the king muttered and opened the heavy paper. Inside, he found a heavy gold ring wrapped in a delicate rose colored material.

“That looks expensive, my lord, does it fit?”

“Let us see.” Oberon replied and slid the ring onto his first finger. The light from the late afternoon sun played over the crystal causing it to catch fire.

“A fine gift,” Gunter noted. “What of the cloth? It looks like a lady’s scarf.”

Oberon picked up the scarf examining it and nodded, “There appears to be some fine needle point here.”

“Is that writing on the far end? Perhaps it might offer a clue to the owner of the scarf and the person who has given you such a fine present?”

Oberon looked at the end of the scarf and saw a neat script, “Invoca? What an odd thing to write.” Abruptly, Oberon froze. Then as Gunter watched he seemed to shrink. His long blonde and gray hair pulled into his scalp as did his great beard. Massive shoulders became smaller and smaller and the six foot thee inch man lost more than a foot of height. His skin changed from light to dark and then it was over.

Oberon shook his head, “W-What has happened? By all the gods, what vile magic is this?”

“Not the gods, Nefertari. This is Stygian magic.” Gunter said a broad grin splitting his face as he stepped up to the king.

The king lifted his hands rubbing the orbs of flesh on his chest through the thick fabric of his now oversized tunic. “I-I have breasts?” Then his eyes focused on the man he thought was Gunter, “Why do you call me by this name? This Nefertari?”

The man moved forward now towering over the slight figure of the king. “Because, for twenty-five years it was my name.” Then he grabbed the king and threw him to the ground and began to strip the transformed king.

“Stop, I command you to stop!” The king shrieked only to be cut off by the vicious back handed blow from Gunter that sent his head spinning. By the time his head cleared he discovered he’d been expertly stripped and his hands were now bound behind his back and he’d been gagged. Using his legs Oberon rolled from his side onto his back and looked up and watched, in horror, as Gunter shed his garments. Ignoring the King, who now wriggled about trying to free himself, the false Gunter slid the ring onto a hand. Oberon screamed uselessly into his gage and squirmed, his luscious female flesh moving disconcertingly and tried to inch away from the man he thought had betrayed him.

At this Nefertari looked down at the wiggling, squirming, form of the king and paused. “I have never appreciated how beautiful I was from a man’s perspective.”

Nefertari reached down and stroked the cock between his legs. “My master commands that I deliver you to him, after I take your form. I have several hours before sunrise.” Nefertari moved to tower over the prostrate king. “This being the case, I think I shall enjoy the opportunity, as it might never come again. What man wouldn’t wish to sate his lust upon the flesh of such a beautiful woman? Yet, let us complete our tasks before we indulge the flesh.”

The man Oberon still thought was Gunter reached down and picked up the royal tunic, “Invoca.” With wide eyes Oberon watched that transformation. Gunter’s body grew a few inches and his shoulders expanded as even more muscle was added to the master swordsman’s lean frame. Dark hair lightened and Gunter’s closely groomed beard became longer until it almost touched his chest. In seconds the transformation was complete and Oberon stared in disbelief at his own body. Then in horror he watched as his doppelganger reached between his legs. The only thing that hadn’t changed was that the cock between the now royal thighs remained standing at attention.

“I’m going to enjoy this.” Nefertari growled grasping Oberon by one arm and hauling him to his feet. “I was raped for the first time at the age of twelve. This won’t be as painful, but I’m sure you’ll never forget.” Then Nefertari turned the former king around and pushed him face first onto the table. Oberon gasped as he felt the first touch of Nefertari’s cock against his new pussy lips. A part of him denied that this could be happening. He was a man and the King! With a steady thrust Nefertari pushed into the King’s pussy. The intrusion left him gasping and now he tried to fight but Nefertari in his powerful body knew exactly what to do as she took him from behind.

It was well after midnight when Nefertari climbed the stairs to Horus’s tower. She effortlessly carried, the motionless body of the Stygian slave, wrapped in a blanket, enjoying the raw power of her new form. It might have seemed strange, the king going to the sorcerer, but Nefertari had simply ordered everyone way from the Sorcerer’s tower. No one questioned her commands. She was the king as far as everyone else knew. The power filled her with delight!

Nefertari grinned a wolfish smile as she climbed remembering the last few hours. She had carried Oberon from the royal study to the King’s chambers and once there used Oberon repeatedly. She’d also discovered a familiar looking clay phial and after forcing Oberon to drink it. His reactions had confirmed that it was the same draft Horus made for Caspar. The next several hours had been the most exciting and pleasurable of Nefertari’s life, as she taught the mighty King the ways of a pleasure slave. Before it was time to leave Nefertari had the King begging to be taken. She could tell his whole world had been shaken at the betrayal of his flesh and had laughed at him enjoying his humiliation.

“Enter.”

The command came before Nefertari could knock. The tower chamber was dark and she stumbled before the light of the braziers showed Horus sitting in his carved chair.

“It is done master.”

Seeing the King carrying the covered body of a woman and hearing Oberon call him master sent a thrill of pleasure through the old sorcerer. “Excellent. Set him down there.”

Nefertari roughly dropped Oberon to the floor and then pulled the blanket from him, placing his, well-used, naked flesh on display for Horus.

“You taught him the meaning of his new station?”

“Yes, master.”

“I did not order you to train him or teach him the meaning of womanhood.”

At this Nefertari felt her pulse race. Then the sorcerer grinned. “You have done well my slave.” Then he held out his hand. “My ring.”

Reluctantly Nefertari slid the ring from her hand and returned it to the sorcerer. “What shall I do now, master?”

“Go, as quietly as you can to Prince Caspar and bring him to me.”

“He will be with his wife at this hour. It will raise suspicion to bring him away from her apartments.”

“Worry not. And do not explain yourself. You are the king. Order him to get dressed and to follow you, it is an affair of state, and bring him here. Say nothing else.”

“Your will, my master.”

Once the door to his chamber closed behind the false Oberon Horus moved to kneel next to the supine body of the pleasure slave, now holding the stunned mind of the King. “I have served you for many years, Oberon, and hated you the whole time. If not for the indulgence of your son, you might still be king. Now, I bid you farewell, when the Lord of the underworld takes your soul from that body, he will assume you are a woman. You are going to spend all of eternity pleasuring the warriors of hell.”

Oberon tried to struggle but Nefertari had bound him for the trip to Horus’s chamber. With a laugh, Horus produced a wicked looking hooked knife and set the edge to his slave’s soft throat. “A fitting fate, for an arrogant fool of a king, I think.” Then in one smooth motion he cut Oberon’s throat. As he did he spoke a twisting word of power opening a gate to the land of the dead. Through the gate a shrouded figure moved, the figure bowed once to Horus and then using his hooked staff pulled Oberon’s spirit from Nerertari’s still warm flesh.

The spirit glowed with a transparent silvery hue and had a vague human shape. Insubstantial hands struggled at the end of the Shepard’s staff, trying to break the enchantment that held it. The being holding the staff shook it and the spirit’s shape came into focus. A voluptuous woman with long flowing hair now clung to the staff shaking her head. Then without a backward glance the being stepped through the portal returning to the land of the dead with his new prize.

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.

Murder. Horus is now ready to exploit the weakness of Prince Caspar and take control of the Kingdom.

Caspar lay in bed looking at the sleeping form of her husband. ‘Why didn’t it work?’ That night while Sanja had been in the Great Hall she’d feigned feeling ill. When Caspar left the hall, she went to the family vault and after a brief search found her prize. With the necklace hanging between her breasts she’d wasted no time. “Reditum!” Nothing happened. Caspar gasped in surprise. “REDITUM!” Again, nothing.

“Horus said to return to my body all I had to do was say the word. Have I been so long in this female prison that the magic considers this my body?” The idea made Caspar shudder. Then taking a deep breath she said, “Caspar, Invoca!” Once again, the magic failed to respond. “What’s wrong?”

Feeling desperate Caspar returned to her apartments and looking up through her bedroom window at the full moon, and resolved to visit the sorcerer the next day. It would be humiliating but she’d confess that she was Caspar and demand to know why the necklace wasn’t working. Knowing that sometimes the best hiding places are in plain sight Caspar opened Princess Sonja’s enormous jewelry cabinet. There was a false door at the back of the top drawer and by pressing the figure of a rose while holding the drawer open, there was a click. Now she slid the necklace into the tiny opening and closed it with a click.

“I will solve this mystery tomorrow.” she vowed, and changed into a nightgown and climbed into bed.

When Sanja entered the suite, Caspar had tried to feign sleep, but the man had only laughed at her. Ignoring her protests Sanja soon had her gasping and begging as he took her, once again proving he knew her body better than she did. This time when Sanja fell asleep Caspar lay next to him, running her soft delicate hands over his masculine chest. ‘Would it be so bad to remain as Sanja?’ she wondered. ‘Sanja has done more in the time he’s been the crown prince than I ever did.’ There was a growing part of Caspar that wanted to give up. To accept her new station and to enjoy the pleasures of her body. She now felt connected to the lives growing inside of her, did she truly wish to become Caspar? To lose that connection?

Abruptly, there was a knock at the outer chamber door. Sanja jolted awake. “Stay here, Sanja,” he said. Then, without a second glance at her, he got dressed and departed.

Caspar wanted to follow her husband, to be so easily dismissed galled her, but the order to remain was hard to refuse. Sanja had taught her that she must obey his commands. Any disobedience was punished with a spanking and then the kind of teasing the brought Caspar to the edge of a climax before being allowed to cool off in frustration. After having her body toyed with and being left gasping, time and time again, aching to be filled and denied, was a sweet torture she didn’t want to repeat. It was more than Caspar could take and it was a pointed reminder from Sanja that he was the man and he’d do whatever he wished with his wife’s body. Caspar’s happiness lay through submitting too, and pleasing, Sanja.

Sighing, Caspar rolled over and closed her eyes. ‘Just let go, be Sanja. Even if it is only for a few months, accept that you are now the Princess and not the Prince.’ A voice in her mind whispered. The idea was so seductive, the decision made, the new Sanja felt her body relax into the safe cocoon of her bed. ‘I am Sanja, the Princess and wife of Prince Caspar.’ A feeling of lassitude stole over her. Sanja knew she needed to sleep, the babies in her womb were demanding more and more of her energy.

“Why do we visit Horus in the middle of the night father?” Sanja asked following the king up the twisting stairs to the second highest tower in the castle. Nefertari looked back over her shoulder. The thrill of her strong male body as it smoothly climbed the stairs gave her confidence. This added to having taken a woman, and using her as only a man can, it was almost too much for Nefertari and it left her feeling giddy.

“There are things the three of us must discuss, you, Horus, and I. Now be silent and keep up.”

When he looked away Sanja shook his head, ‘Does he know?’ the new prince wondered. ‘Have I been trying too hard? I thought he approved in the changes I’ve made.’ The idea that the king knew he’d stolen Caspar’s body and that the king was now taking him to the Court Sorcerer to have them switched back filled Sanja with dread. At some point over the past few weeks Sonja’s plan had shifted. At first it was to pay Caspar back for her ill treatment of women, whoring and drinking, and to teach him a lesson.

The fact that Sanja had so easily dominated the former man had filled him with a sense of power, and his new body with an insatiable lust. Now he realized he had no desire to give up this body or his new masculine life, ever. ‘I am the one true Caspar! My wife is Sanja, she was once Caspar, yes, but she is truly a woman. A woman who lives only to bear my children and pleasure me. I AM CROWN PRINCE CASPAR!’

He felt dizzy for a moment and had to steady himself. Then he looked up at the back of his father. ‘It doesn’t matter the reason for this visit. I am the crown prince and am safe within my own castle.’

The sound of Oberon’s fist pounding on the oak door of Horus’s chamber echoed down the stairs.

“Enter.”

The king pushed into the shadowy chamber and Sonja followed trying his best to summon every memory of this place. He knew Horus had been providing Caspar with the magical tonic that enhanced and inflamed lust and the needs of the flesh until nothing else mattered. Then an image of holding the necklace up as Horus explained its powers came to him and Sanja’s heart raced. ‘If Horus crafted the artifact and gave it to Caspar, surly he would have told the king?’

“We are here master.”

At this Sanja looked up sharply at the king. ‘W-What did he say?’

“Come, stand next to me.”

“What’s going on?” Sanja gasped and then spotted the dead body next to Horus feet. “What have you done?”

“Why do you care? She was only a slave.” Horus asked.

“She was a woman, and valuable. I used her myself.” Sanja stumbled, then looked in horror at the Sorcerer now setting in his tall chair. In this light, it looked more like a throne. Sanja gasped as he realized the King had dropped to one knee next to the sorcerer and had drawn his dagger.

“Because I had no further use for her, and giving her soul to the underworld is a payment that I make from time to time, as an insurance against this chaotic world.”

“What madness is this?” Sanja gasped drawing his dagger, “What spell have you cast upon King Oberon that he kneels at your side.”

“Hahaha, a madness you will soon understand.” Horus lifted the hand wearing a heavy ring and rubbed the crystal with a bonny finger, “The Prince, Invoca!”

For a moment, Sanja felt like he was looking out of two pairs of eyes. Looking into the shadows at the seated form of the Sorcerer Horus and looking up from the depths of the night into the shining form of the Crown Prince. Then a wind hit him and he felt his spirit lift and with a snapping sensation the world spun around and he was looking at his former royal body.

“Now, Nefertari!”

The shout had a ring of authority and a youthful vitality that filled the chamber. The former Sanja could only think, ‘Now, what?’ Then the man he thought was King Oberon plunged the dagger into the side of his neck ripping it through his throat in one violent movement. As the light faded Caspar-the-former-Sanja could only wonder what might have caused the king to aid in this mad scheme. Then darkness closed in.

“Well done.” Horus purred in his new rich voice. He quickly moved to his former body and pulled the ring from his hand.

“What is next my lord?”

“Simple. We will leave both bodies and lock this chamber. I will deal with cleansing it later. You will return to the royal apartments and spend the rest of the night repeating this mantra. “I am King Oberon. The most powerful man in the realm. I am King Oberon, the warrior who raided down the coast into far off Stygia and stole away the sorcerer Horus as my servant. I am King Oberon, the wise ruler of Vanaheim.” Horus grabbed the larger man by his bicep and pulled him to his feet. “You will repeat those words one thousand times or until the sun rises. Then maintain the King’s schedule. Do nothing out of the ordinary. We must live in these bodies for the next few weeks. The magic will work to give us the memories we need until none will know we aren’t the people we seem to be.”

“Yes, my lord. What will you do?”

“I’ll go to my chamber and take my wife! Long have I lusted after the flame-haired wench. I will use her body and then sleep. Once we are beyond suspicion I will resume my studies of the Ancient Arts. While you manage the day-to-day affairs of running a kingdom.”

The new Sanja felt someone moving onto the bed and rolled toward the person, “Is that you, my lord Caspar?”

“Yes, wench, now spread your legs.”

The order caused Sanja-Caspar’s eyes to fly open, “My lord, husband, you have already used me long and well this night.”

“I intend to do so yet again.”

The hands that gripped her legs pushing them apart weren’t the gentle caresses of a lover. Sanja saw that it was the Prince but there was something about him that was different. She spread her legs and her husband moved between lifting her nightgown and moving his mouth to her hot pie. The tongue on her clit sent jolts of pleasure into her and she couldn’t hold in the soft moan.

Moving up to her breasts Sanja felt her former hands grope and squeeze and she winced at the pain. There would be bruises on her milky orbs in the morning. “Please, be gentle.”

“Nay, wench, I plan to take you hard and use you well.”

Caspar felt the electric sensation of her former cock spreading her pussy lips. The Prince used his fingers to part her further and then thrust fully into her. Her body wasn’t ready for this assault and she gasped. The Prince started pumping wildly in a furious assault on her love tunnel. In seconds, there was an explosion of heat as he came.

“M-My lord. I-I . . . have I done something wrong?”

“Far from it. You, your body, your cunt, they please me greatly!” Prince Caspar boomed out. Then he picked up a bottle from where he’d set it by the bed. Drinking deeply, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched. Glancing down at her he thrust the clay phial to her lips, “Drink.”

Knowing she had to obey her husband Sanja-Caspar drank and almost gasped at the sweet syrupy liquid. After her husband pulled it away she looked up at him stunned. “W-Where did you get that? Why did we drink? We’ll be screwing like wolves in heat until the sun comes up.”

“Yes.”

Not waiting for another comment the prince pushed his once again hard cock into her now hot moist pussy. The new Sanja gasped as the magically enhanced carnal sensation filled her with need. Her mind floated on a sea of erotic euphoria as her husband began driving his cock into her. So intense were the sensations that Caspar almost missed the Prince’s next words.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. You spurned me, an old Stygian Sorcerer and accepted the young prince to your bed. Well, my will is done regardless. You are mine at last!”

Caspar’s last thought before being swept into an ocean of sexual bliss was this must have been how Annika felt, when she realized she’d been taken by another, by one who’d assumed the form of her husband.

Awareness returned slowly and the soft moan that escaped the princess’s lips was anything but lady like. Blinking she looked around and happily discovered the bed was empty. Sitting up was an act that felt like it took years instead of a moment and her head pounded. ‘What happened last night?’ she wondered looking down at her naked body.

There were bruises on her breasts, thighs, and buttocks, a dark spotting that dappled its way over her pale body. The ache in her pussy and ass was something she didn’t want to think about and when she tried to move toward the edge of the bed the sheets stuck to her where the fluids from her hard use had dried. Moving off the bed was an agony but she managed it.

Standing on unsteady feet she felt her heavy breasts shift around and winced at how sore they were. Each step brought an added ache to her groin and ass. When she made it to her armoire she pulled out a robe and went to the mirror. The sight that greeted her left her gasping. Her body looked worse than a dockside wench after the return of the fleet from a successful southland raid. She was covered in bruises, blood and cum had dried to the insides of her creamy thighs. Then it hit her, ‘I look like Annika the morning after Caspar . . . used her.’ The knowledge caused Caspar to go weak at the knees and she collapsed to the floor in front of the mirror, weeping.

“H-How could I have done that to anyone?” she whispered. Then added, “How could Sanja do that to me?” Then she remembered the words, despite the drug induced haze, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. You spurned me, an old Stygian Sorcerer, and accepted the young prince to your bed. Well, my will is done regardless. You are mine at last!” Her eyes widened and she gasped with certain knowledge, “That wasn’t Sanja.”

Caspar wasn’t sure how long she sat in front of the mirror but at last she stood up. Her body hurt and she slowly pulled the robe on belting it at the waist. Then she looked out the window. It was early afternoon. She’d slept half the day away!

The trip to the baths was one of the longest journeys of Caspar’s life. As luck would have it, there was no one else in the lady’s bath. However, the look on the bath attendant’s face, when she saw Sanja’s body, told Caspar that soon the whole castle would know that the Prince and roughly used his wife the night before.

Except, Caspar was certain it wasn’t Sanja in his former body. Who had summoned Sanja in the middle of the night? What had they done? Where was the real Sanja? Having no answers, she slid into the warm water to soak. Whatever else had happened Caspar felt sure that the person controlling the Prince’s body didn’t know that she wasn’t the original Sanja! This was an advantage she could work with.

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.

The seeds of evil that have taken root are now in full-bloom. Horus is about to learn that wits and magic aren't enough to control a kingdom.

The line of men moved silently through the water of the river Vanna. Kyler led them up to the drainage pipe under the east bank of the castle. As each warrior rose from the water the sliver of moon showed only dark clothes and blackened skin. The men were like shadows as the worked up, one at a time, into the pipe. Each man had been chosen for his small size and ability to move undetected. They were considered the finest scouts and hunters of the Northmen. Kyler climbed into the pipe last, his large body a tight squeeze and if he got stuck he didn’t want to hold up the team, yet he was determined to led this band.

The cold of fall in the north of Hyboria had the men shivering even with the layer of cow grease they’d slathered onto their bodies before entering the cold water. A few feet in the pipe expanded so they could move from a low crawl to a hunched over walk. Thirty feet from the opening they came to a set of iron bars that secured this entrance. Kyler reached into the sheath at his leg and drew out the diamond toothed saw Duke Alaric had given him. He passed it forward in the line until the warrior at the front had it.

The man, Arlo, went to work on the bars. The soft sound of the saw cutting metal and the drip of water were the only noises within the tunnel. Kyler kept a count in his head as the seconds flew by. The timing was going to be close but it should work out. He thought he could see, in his mind’s eye, the House Carls of Alaric’s family mounting up, moving to the tree-line just beyond sight of the southern bridge into Castletown. At the first hint of predawn they’d move, knowing the scouts were already in place to either side of the bridge. When they thundered down the road the scouts would swarm up over the sides and onto the bridge behind the bridge gate. Any guards unlucky enough to be stationed there would be ended quickly and the gate opened before the thunder of the charging Northmen.

They’d race through town ignoring everyone and everything until they arrived at the castle gate. It was his band’s job to have that gate open. Just then a soft grunt of satisfaction could be heard from Arlo as he set the first bar to one side. ‘Two more and we’re through.’ Kyler thought.

Nefertari, in Oberon’s flesh released a heavy stream of piss into the jake in the wash-closet of the royal apartments. The ability to stand and pee, directing a heavy stream of urine into the hole was one of her favorite parts about being male. Finished, she shook her heavy flaccid cock and tucked it under her royal robes. Nefertari quickly moved through the royal apartment to the bedchamber and paused to look down at the naked forms of the two luckiest wenches in the realm. They were both were beautiful, blonde, and had the enormous breasts Nefertari had grown to love.

Once Nefertari had gotten a swallow of Horus’s elixir into them they’d become inexhaustible and more than eager. It didn’t matter if he plunged his cock into one while she ate the other woman’s pie, the enthusiasm, the desire to do anything to sate their physical needs, was all they could think of while under the influence of the magical elixir. The power of her large male body, the authority over all within the realm, being King, it was the sweetest nectar Nefertari had ever drunk. She knew, now that she had a taste of power, that she’d never give this up. In the time that Nefertari had been ruling Vannaheim she’d discovered two new things about herself. Queen Viveca annoyed her and she had an insatiable lust for big breasted blonde women.

The annoyance had been dealt with swiftly enough. During the first full moon of her reign she’d borrowed the Ring from her master and used it to first possess and then transform the overly watchful Master-at-Arms, Gunter, into a youthful version of Viveca. Instead of the matron of forty-five winters Gunter was the woman Viveca had been at twenty-five. Five years after she’d given birth to Caspar. It was amazing how, once gowned and cowled, so that every inch of skin, except her beautiful face, was covered the younger version of Viveca looked like the older. Later, Gunter, at the “king’s” command, had confided to the court ladies that Horus, the Court Sorcerer had given her a tonic that had restored her youth. This had sent the women at court all a twitter.

Most of that night had been spent, with the help of Horus potion, teaching Gunter her new place in life. Her screaming submission and wiggling need to be filled still gave Nefertari a raging erection. Viveca at twenty-five had been a vision of beauty with great succulent globes of flesh on her chest and blonde hair. Nefertari had enjoyed every moment of Gunter’s training. The power to take the mighty warrior and reduce him to a quivering slut had filled Nefertari with glee. Then leaving the new Queen sated, exhausted, and asleep Nefertari had once again take up the ring. It’s powers were active only for three nights and she knew she had to make use of them quickly. She doubted Horus would loan her the ring next month. It still troubled Nefertari that Horus hadn’t been able to find necklace!

The apartments of the Queen were only a short way from the King’s and using the private hidden passage that connected the suites Nefertari had arrived unseen on silent feet. Settling into a chair in the queen’s boudoir Nefertari used Horus’s ring to possess Viveca. Once in control of the queen’s body she took the ring and slid it on. Then pulling the slutty smock of a slave girl Nefertari selected earlier in the week, from the pouch at Oberon’s belt, she said, “Invoca.”

The transformation from stately Queen-mother into a sixteen-year old blonde slave-girl had taken seconds. With the transformation complete she moved to the mirror. Running youthful hands over the amazing body she’d picked out for the queen gave Nefertari a thrill. The blonde slave-girl’s peasant body had been built for pleasure and bearing children. Nefertari intended to provide the new slave with plenty of both. Nerertari returned the ring to Oberon’s finger and then using the hidden passage Nefertari traveled to the king’s apartment. Once there she went to the King’s sitting room and opened a secret panel that led to a chamber that none except Oberon, and now Nefertari, knew about.

The room was small and sparsely furnished, a table with a chair next to it and a pile of furs. There was a rack to one side filled with chains, whips, and other devices whose purpose Nefertari knew well. The discovery of this room of hidden, sadistic, pleasure had surprised Nefertari. Settling the queen’s new body into the firs she snapped a slave collar around her neck. The collar was attached by a long chain to the wall and would give the slave some room to move, but not too much. Then she settled back into the furs and said, “Reditum.” A wind lifted the spirit of Nefertari up and she rushed through the walls returning to her Oberon body. With a pleased chuckle, she stood up and stretched, she was tired from her night’s work and looked forward to settling in beside the youthful form of the new queen for several hours of well-deserved rest. As she returned to her bed Nefertari thought about how she planned to spend her day. She’d already cleared most of her schedule. Before the day was over the two transformed women would know that they were her play things. That their happiness and wellbeing depended on following orders and pleasing the King! The use of the magical elixir and the power of the ring, forcing them to chant their new names, admit their love of their new bodies, and in Gunter’s case his new gender, over and over had worked. The magic was insidious and by the third day all signs of defiance had vanished.

Now, weeks after she’d used the ring on them she looked down at Gunter-in-Viveca and Viveca-in-Unna, the slave. Their naked bodies lay entwined golden hair spread across the bed. ‘Yes, life as the lord and master of the realm is the life I was born too.’

The call of a sentry using the night’s password to identify himself to his counterpart and the soft response had become routine. Nefertari moved to the open window and pulled it closed. The cold night air had felt good after the heat she and her two wenches had generated. Now with the fire nothing more than coals the chamber felt cool. With a satisfied smirk Nefertari climbed into bed pushing her way between the sleeping women thinking it would be Gunter’s turn to please the royal penis with her mouth in the morning.

Horus stood in his tower staff in one hand, body painted with glyph’s from far off Stygia, and watched as the vision faded from the scrying bowl. He leaned on the staff feeling tired and knew that if he hadn’t had the youthful power of his current body he’d never have made it through the night’s casting. His first task had been to check in on a certain soul in the underworld. The sight of Oberon, satisfying the lusts of the Deamon she’d been gifted too, had been like a balm to his shriveled soul. Revenge was sweet.

Then using a bowl he’d spied out his ancient enemy in Stygia. The Sorcerer-priest was still wearing the, now middle aged, body he’d stolen from his most recent apprentice. For a moment, Horus felt sorry for the apprentice, then dismissed the feeling as wasted. He had endured having his body stolen by Maalik many years ago. It was Maalik’s graduation test for each apprentice he took on. To be placed into his ancient body and then turned lose in the desert. The spell to swap bodies was only shown the one time Maalik used it to take his apprentice’s body but that one time had been enough for Horus.

He’d walked all night refusing to give in to thirst or fatigue. By the middle of the next day he was barely aware of his surroundings, due to exhaustion and dehydration. A small merchant caravan had found him and the daughter of the merchant had taken pity on the old frail wanderer. Thinking he was a wandering holy man she’d brought him water and had ordered him placed into a shaded tent, so she could tend to him. Once able to speak Horus had whispered the words to the spell and powered it with the life force of his former master’s frail body. His soul had taken the girl’s body and sent her soul into the abyss. The harsh payment for her kindness had taught Horus a final lesson. There was no place in the world for mercy.

Sadly, the girl had no talent for magic. It had taken Horus ten years, one marriage, and two children before he’d saved enough power together to cast the spell again. This time he’d taken the body of a young warrior and using it had traveled the land looking for a new body with real sorcerous talent. He’d found a boy seven years later. The boy was only fifteen but he had a powerful gift. Horus had saved up enough power by then to caste the spell. This time his victim had been eager to trade. The voices he heard in his head scared him. Without training or understanding the raw-wild magic was driving him insane.

Horus had no trouble, with his training, in taming the magic. The boy now in the body of a twenty-seven-year-old warrior had sworn service to Horus. This had opened Horus’s eyes. He could survive on his own, but to thrive he needed servants. He could coerce them but if they served willingly he’d not have to worry about a knife in the back. He had then traveled to the coast and using his power to help the wealthy, built up enough money to build his tower.

Then fifteen years after settling into his tower and beginning the first steps at revenge on Maalik, a raiding ship had struck during the night. The raider had been a young Prince Oberon excited to raid into the far south and bring back riches. Horus had been enslaved before he knew what was happening. Now, glancing over at the mirror he laughed. He’d turned that set back into the greatest gain possible. Horus controlled an entire kingdom.

The situation couldn’t have been better, Horus thought. Nefertari the pleasure slave had a need to dominate those around her, but particularly strong warriors. She had been taken during a raid as a small girl and her body trained and used to give pleasure. It was a small thing to loan her the ring so she could enjoy her new status. What was surprising was how well she played her role as King. Her decisions in court had been prudent and Horus was free to continue his own pursuits. These pursuits consisted of two things; magic and his new wife.

Taking Sanja within minutes of killing her husband had been one of the greatest pleasures of Horus life. The first time he’d set his eyes upon her he felt lust burn within his ancient bones. When he’d come to her, to explain everything his magic could do she’d laughed at him. When she’d accepted Caspar, King Oberon’s waste of a son, as her husband Horus had destroyed his tower sitting room in a fit of rage. He slowly started his plot to steal the prince’s body. This time though he had to be cleverer. He not only needed the body, but the skills and memories to fool a court and kingdom. This went beyond his simple body-swap spell. He needed to craft an artifact of power that would do everything he needed.

Then Horus discovered that that Caspar had a gift for magic! With that knowledge, his plan was sealed. Caspar’s youthful body would be the next home for his blackened soul. He had done everything he could to encourage Caspar to drink, carouse, and spend his time sleeping with every wench in the realm. To his surprise a bored Caspar had commissioned the very thing Horus most longed to create.

Laughing he shook his head and started to clean the symbols from his body. It had been more than two months since he took Caspar’s body and he would never forget the look of stunned surprise on Caspar’s ebony face when the man he thought was his father drove a knife into his throat. This train of thought led Horus to thinking of his wife. She was truly stunning now in late pregnancy. Horus knew she could deliver anytime. Watching her waddle from room to room during the day and thrusting his royal cock into her delightful pussy at night filled him with joy. He’d lain in bed a few nights ago, having sated his lust, and watched the babies in her womb move.

“I’ve never been a father before.” he murmured. The thought of his wife filled him with need and looking out the tower window he saw the first rays of sun start to illuminate the horizon. “I’m done here, I could return to her chamber and greet her as a husband should greet a wife.” The decision made Horus started to clean up. The scrying had told him what he’d needed to know. The location of his former master and how best to start to bring about his down fall. “I think it might be time to raid, once again, into Stygia. A surprise attack with a few hundred warriors might be just the thing!”

The sound of hooves echoing through the town startled Horus. ‘That’s odd, probably a messenger.’ he thought. With a sigh, he put aside the idea of spending the morning riding his gravid wife’s pussy and figured he’d need to put on robes of state and join Nefertari in the Great Hall. A messenger this early meant important news.

Caspar had never been patient as a man. Now, as a woman, she’d learned patients. Even though he had the necklace, it had failed him. It had failed that night more than two months ago when she’d tried to use it to return to her body. In desperation, she decided to find Horus and get him to fix it. Instead of rushing to the Court Sorcerer the day after she knew her beloved Sahja had been replaced, she’d waited. Her first opportunity had arrived the next day when the false Caspar and his father had gone for an afternoon ride. Careful trying her best to avoid attention she’d used a hidden way to get close to the tower entrance. The climb to Horus chamber, in her condition, had proved exhausting. When there was no answer to her knock she’d used her slim lady’s dagger to open the latch and slip inside.

The shadows had been thick and her heart had raced as she called out, “Horus? Horus, where are you?” Then her feminine shriek echoed around the room and her hands flew to her mouth when she’d spotted the bodies of Horus and his slave Nefertari.

“What ill deed has been done?”

Her knees went weak she settled to the floor tears streaking down her ivory face. She hadn’t been close to the sorcerer, yet she’d known him her whole life. To see him lying there, dead, was crushing. What was worse was the realization that she was on her own. Stuck in the frail body of a woman, with the second most powerful man in the land pretending to be her husband. For a moment, she considered going to the king or queen, but they’d never believe her. The fake prince had mastered Caspar’s every gesture, his manner of speech, and knew all the servants by name. If the necklace had been working she could have demonstrated its power and her parents would have believed, but not now.

“I must escape.”

The idea came to her and she knew it was her only course. But to run would invite a chase. Besides, where could she go? She was the Princess, the wife of the Crown Prince, his property. All the law in the north would be against her. Anyone she fled to would be honor bound to return her to her husband.

Feeling alone and depressed Caspar returned to her apartment. She settled into Sanja’s favorite chair and picked up the needle work she’d set aside. The act of stitching a pattern into the fabric was soothing and as her anxiety decreased she thought of Sanja’s family. Her father, Erick, the Baron of Turvasatama was a thin man of average height. He was not well known as a fighter, but he was perhaps the greatest general in Vanaheim. The trade City of Gildar had been given to her father when he supported Oberon’s father during the unification of Vanaheim. Since taking the fiefdom it had thrived under Erick’s rule. Sanja’s family was the richest in Vanaheim next to the royal family.

Erick had married the daughter of one of the northern chieftains much to the annoyance of the southern nobility. Sanja’s mother was taller than Erick and had hair that matched Sanja’s fiery locks. Her four older brothers were large men, powerful warriors physically taking after their mother’s kin. They’d also inherited Erick’s quick wit and keen mind and had made a name for the Turvasatama family by raiding into the southern lands.

Then a memory came to Caspar. It was the night before Sanja had traveled north to Castletown to marry Prince Caspar. Gunther had taken Sanja for a walk through the family garden. Sanja as a girl had always loved this place, the colorful flowers, the sweet scents, the happy smiles of her mother as she worked with the flowers. It was a safe place, a happy place, Sanja had treasured it. The memory was so strong that Caspar felt an almost physical need to be there, to see this amazing garden. Gunther handed her a small leather bag.

“Sister, once you are Prince Caspar’s wife, you won’t be able to leave or even send us a message without the royal family knowing.” Sanja had nodded nervously. “Within the bag is a powder. Toss a pinch of it into the fire in your rooms or a small brazier and the flames will turn blue. While they are blue speak and I will hear your words.”

“How can this be?” she asked. Sanja’s voice was full of awe.

“I have a brazier in my room, crafted by a Shaman of the North. It is ready for a fire but not lit. When you send a message, it will catch fire. I will then use the same powder to change the flame and will hear your words.” Then Gunther took her by the shoulders forcing her to look at him. “Be not afraid little one. If you need us, we will come.”

Now sitting in her rooms Caspar knew it was time. Setting aside the needle work she ran her hands over her swollen belly feeling the royal twins move around. The thought hit her, if Sanja was no longer in her former royal body, who now controlled it? And, more importantly, where was Sanja? Knowing she’d get no answers without acting she got out the powder and threw a pinch into the fire place.

There was a burst of light, but no heat and then a blue eldritch flame danced around the logs. “Gunther, brother, I am desperate. I don’t know what to do. Foul magic has run-amok within the castle. My husband isn’t himself. It is his body but some other being wears it like a mask. I fear for my life and my unborn children. Help.”

Then she settled back and watched as the flames danced for several more minutes until without warning the vanished. “Now, I must wait.”

The days had dragged by and Caspar seemed to jump at shadows. The false Prince visited her every night using her body for his pleasure without more than a few words. If he was unhappy with her performance Caspar was forced to drink the elixir Horus had introduced him to when he’d still been a man. Caspar now hated it. The feeling of fire that ran through her veins, the loss of control, the need to feel a man inside her, no matter the cost, she hated those feelings but couldn’t contradict her husband.

Two weeks into her ordeal she’d figured out that the single biggest difference between Sanja-Caspar and the imposter was that this version of the prince had no mercy, no kindness. He arrived, used her body for his pleasure, and left. Sanja-in-Caspar had always stayed spending the night. They’d held each other and Sanja had told stories of her youth or had explained how he’d spent his day. He’d asked her about her day and laughed at Caspar’s jokes. Those moments, now looking back, were as precious as any treasure Caspar had been given.

Lying awake in bed, nine weeks after the change in the prince, she knew it was time. The message she’d received from Gunther had startled her. She’d been sitting alone one afternoon, doing needlepoint, when the flame of the lamp next to her elbow and turned blue. Scrambling Caspar found the powder and sprinkled a pinch over the lamp’s flame. The voice was one she’d only heard once in real life but instantly recognized from Sanja’s memories.

“Little-one. We have your message. There have been rumors that we refused to believe. We are moving, now. Don’t be afraid. Find a warrior you can trust and fourteen days after the next full moon stay in your apartment. Don’t come out until you hear my voice at your door.”

With the dawn-light coming in through her window two weeks after the full moon she felt like she had nothing to lose. Going to her jewelry cabinet Caspar retrieved the necklace and tucked it out of sight between her enormous breasts. Then she hurried to the door to her chamber. When she opened it, she saw the two guards the “Prince” had ordered there. This was another change made by the imposter. It had started just after the first full moon; she was guarded, at all times. It was as if the false prince knew that she’d sensed a change in him and was worried that she might try to escape. Although in her current condition she’d not get far.

When Caspar had asked about them she’d been told that she was too precious to risk, particularly now that she was about to deliver the royal heir. They were always the same ten guards taking turns around the clock, watching her in pairs most of the time. The false Caspar had called them his “Novi-Bellator” and had laughed when she’d ask why these ten.

Caspar now knew them all by name and seeing that there were only two addressed the larger of the pair. “Cord, could you help me? The fire within my chamber has gone out and I’m cold and it is difficult for me to bend over these days.” As she said this she rubbed her immense belly.

“From the sounds of the other night, I’d say the fire in your chamber burned hot.” Jung the younger of the two guards said, just loud enough to be overheard but softly enough to be ignored. “I’m sure the Prince had to bend her over to get the fire going just right.” Cord the older and the veteran of the two murmured. Then he turned to Caspar.

“I’d be happy to help, ma’am.”

Caspar ground her teeth and ignored the lewd comments. Shutting the door behind him she moved to a chair facing the fireplace. In desperation, as the guard got down on his knees to go to work, she grasped the pendant and whispered, “Invoca.”

The wave of magic that hit her was stunning, and familiar. Slowly, she looked up from where she knelt by the fire place and blinked owlishly before glancing over at her feminine body as it slept in the chair.

“By the gods! It worked! I’m a man again.” Caspar stood up and realized she could take back her royal-body. She could put the false Caspar into any body she wanted and then question him as to the location of the real Sanja. Once she’d rescued Sanja she would reclaim Sanja’s luscious female body as her own and gift her former royal male-body to Sanja. They would stay husband and wife only now Caspar knew that she no longer wished to be the prince or to rule the kingdom. Instead, she would bear many fine sons to her lord husband and enjoy watching them grow to manhood. “I will save you my love.” Then it hit her. ‘What has Gunther planned?’

Feeling awkward and off balance as she stood up. Caspar grimaced at the annoying protrusion between her legs. She reached up with one hand to rub her chest already missing her breasts. “I had best take his place for now. I don’t know either of these two, they might be in league with the false prince.”

Trying her best to remember how to move as a man, Caspar walked with a stiff gate to the door and stepped into the hallway.

“Did you satisfy the princess?”

“And risk the Prince’s wraith? Not likely.”

“A good point. However, if allowed I’d bend that one over, hehehe . . . I can hardly believe it’s been over a month since the Prince took our oaths and switched us with our husbands. Watching Jung waddle around the house, just days away from becoming a mother is worth the exchange alone. Forcing him to service me, just as he’d made me, was one of the sweetest moments of my life! The man knows how to use a woman’s mouth.” Caspar not knowing what to say just laughed. “Then seeing you take Cord in the hayloft behind Pa’s was almost as funny. I almost blew my wad right there, I was so hard. The way you made him squeal admit to being a TRUE woman was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Caspar just grunted and wondered how many guards had been switched and what else the false Prince might have done? How many of the royal servants were still the people they were supposed to be? What of the nobles?

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The sound of the alarm gong was almost a physical shock. It was quickly followed by horns from the towers and the shouting of men and a thunder of hooves from the courtyard.

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.

** The battle is joined. Will the forces of good prove victorious? Or will the Stygian Sorcerer win out? **

Steel rang on steel as the force of Northmen led by Duke Alaric smashed through the few guards on duty. Looking down at Kyler, his sword drawn and bloody from opening the gate, Alaric grinned. Then looked at one of his House Carls, “Take the first troop up onto the walls. Secure the towers and the outer wall!”

“Aye my lord.”

Looking at another warrior, “Take the second troop and storm the barracks. Even now the King’s Guard will be arming. Don’t let them. Take them prisoner if you can, kill them if you must!”

“Ay my lord, but what of the garrison in town? They must have heard the horns. Shall we secure the gates?”

Suddenly, three short sharp horn blasts rang up from the river piers. “HA! Old Baron Turvasatama and his boys have arrived.” Looking down at the warrior who’d spoken Alaric shook his head, “Nay, Jaegar, the Baron will deal with them. Hold the gate open. If the King is still alive he will try to rally his guards. This fight isn’t over.”

It took a moment for Nefertari to understand the significance of the horns ringing around the castle. “What?” she gasped her cock buried in Gunter’s mouth.

“They are blowing the alarm, my lord.” Viveca announced, in her soft, little girl’s, voice, her wide blue eyes filled with worry helped to clear Nefertari’s head.

“I must go to the Great Hall. My Master-at-Arms will meet me there.” In that moment she realized that she’d not gotten around to replacing Gunter. “Damn, get off me wench.” Nefertari said pushing Gunter away. Having a cock had been one of the greatest experiences of Nefertari’s life but stuffing her still hard member into her cod piece and then climbing into a set of trousers taught her that at times dealing with it was less than fun.

Grabbing Oberon’s sword still only half dressed Nefertari rushed to the Great Hall summoning warriors as she ran. The training of a life time, that Oberon had drilled into his body, came to her easily and she started issuing orders. “Use the servant’s stairs, get to the barracks and rally the guard and bring them to the Hall!” she ordered one of the four guards she kept outside her suite. “Find Prince Caspar, he’s either in Horus’s tower or with his wife. Move!” A second guard darted away.

Nefertari took off at a run for the Hall. She arrived to find light streaming in from the skylights in the roof and half a dozen guards barricading the great doors. “What’s the situation, sergeant!”

The man with strips on the sleeve of his uniform turned and snapped a quick salute, “Unknown. A force of Northmen raced through Castletown at dawn. The gates to the castle were opened from within and the draw bridge lowered. There was nothing to slow, much less stop, the Northmen.”

“You’re sure it’s Northmen? That means Duke Alaric has turned traitor!” The Nefertari looked around. “We must hold the hall. Duke Alaric’s warriors are strong and fearless, but once we’re reinforced we’ll have them out numbered. Warriors from the Garrison will have heard the alarm! Soon we’ll have them between a hammer and anvil!”

Nefertari’s confident words echoed around the hall and the warriors lifted their swords cheering. Stepping away from the Sergeant Nefertari looked around trying to figure out a way to escape. Her words had been meant to lift the spirits of the men defending her, but Oberon’s memories told her that it would be a hard fight. Alaric was no fool, for him to try this, he had to have help. ‘Which of the Great Houses have aligned with Alaric?’ she wondered.

Suddenly an inner door to the hall burst open and the Crown Prince, wearing armor and carrying a sword rushed in followed by a troop of warriors he’d made into his personal guard. The nine warriors moved forward to pitch in with securing the hall while Horus strode over to Nefertari.

“What has happened?”

“It looks like Alaric is attempting to take the throne.”

“Damn Prince Caspar!” Horus whispered. At the strange look from Nefertari he shook his head, “The Prince has given the Duke sufficient reason for this assault.”

As they spoke more warriors flowed into the hall from side passages. Then a heavy blow caused the great doors to shiver. For a moment the hall went silent. Then a soldier raced in from the still open side passage.

“My lord, they are attacking the barracks. Captain Ranulf is trying to hold them.”

“Close the side doors. Secure this room!” Nefertari boomed out using Oberon’s battlefield voice. “I’d wager, Captain Otto has mustered the Garrison and is marching to our relief.”

“My, lord, I do not know if that will happen.” A warrior who’d just entered the hall said, skidding to a stop a few feet away. “I was stationed in the north tower and when the horns were sounded I remained where I was until Sergeant Coen ordered me to report.” At this he gulped for air and Nefertari put one hand on his shoulder, “Take a deep breath and give me your message.”

The man nodded looking relieved to see the King so calm. “The Garrison, it is burning. As best as we can tell, hundreds of war boats came up the river from the coast overnight. They were flying the Red banner with the Black Eagle of Turvasatama.” Then he continued in a rush, “Sergeant Coen said to tell you that in addition to Turvasatama’s warriors, it looks like the Baron brought at least one mercenary company with him.”

“Goodman, now go report to Sergeant Horst.” The warrior saluted the man he thought was his king and hurried off.

Turning to Horus Nefertari whispered in a panic, “What will we do? Duke Alaric of Northumbria has, although few in number, the best warriors. Alone, we might have overcome them, but that old fox, Erick, is rich. He has almost as many Banner-men as I do. If he’s hired a mercenary company from the south, then we are outnumbered and outclassed.”

“How did they get into the castle? If we still held the walls, then we might have a chance.”

Nefertari shook her head, “I don’t know, but if Baron Erick is involved, then you can bet it’s been thoroughly planned. We need to escape.”

“Perhaps there is a way.” Horus said, looking at the doors and around the Hall. They now had five full squads of warriors, half a company. “I have a plan.”

Caspar followed along behind the warriors in the Prince’s personal guard. She ran just a bit slower than the others and when they rounded a turn in the passageway she stopped. The false Prince had swept by his wife’s suite trailing a string of soldiers and ordered the guards to fall in. The woman in Jung’s body had instantly complied, but Caspar knew that she needed to hold back. There was no doubt in her mind that the horns sounding the alarm merely heralded the arrival of her father and brothers.

Now out of sight she turned and raced back to the princess’s apartments. When she arrived, she saw that the door was still closed. During times like this, it was common for servants to settle scores or to attempt a little murder to gain favor with the new King. Caspar didn’t want her body to die uselessly while she possessed the body of another. She opened the door and saw her body sitting undisturbed.

Quickly she bolted the door behind her. Then she picked up her body and carried it to the bedchamber. She lay her body in the bed and whispered, “Soon, I’ll be home and Sanja will be the Prince. Then this will all be over.”

Gunther raced through the streets. Behind him a troop of over a hundred handpicked warriors from his father’s Banner-men kept pace. Erick and Alaric had met and planned this assault weeks ago, or more precisely they’d met and Erick had instructed Alaric on the best way to take the castle. The plan hadn’t been finalized until Kyler had joined the cause. The rumors of foul magic had slowly spread and Alaric already knowing that Caspar had used magic assume his likeness, and take his wife, had been eager to form an alliance when Erick approached him.

The rumors of dark magic had worried Erick and then Princess Sanja had sent her cry for help and Erick had known he had to act. The key to the plan was Kyler. He’d come to Erick of his own accord with a tale of evil magic. Kyler knew every nook and passage of the castle. He’d grown up with Caspar and they’d played in them together. He knew that the main sewage was poorly guarded and once through he could bring a small force to the gate. The force must take the Guardhouse over the drawbridge, lower it, secure the barbican, and open the gate. Once open a second, fast moving, force needed to enter and hold the courtyard before it became a kill zone. Then if possible they had to take the curtain wall and secure each of the towers while attacking the castle guard’s barracks. Duke Alaric’s warriors were known for their ferocity and skill. He’d readily agreed to this bold plan.

Erick had explained that the King would move to the Great Hall in the Keep to make his stand. They didn’t need to assault the keep until the rest of the castle had been taken. Then they would take their time in subduing the Hall and following that, execute the King and Prince together.

However, Erick didn’t totally trust the Duke and had kept aspects of the plan hidden. The fact he’d hired a thousand warriors of the Iron Hand Mercenary Company was something he hadn’t shared. He’d also sent Gunther ahead of the main force. Gunther had beached his boats before dawn and with a hand-picked troop raced on foot through Castletown, unnoticed. Arriving at the castle just behind Alaric, Gunther’s job was to enter the Castle proper and find Princess Sanja. They were to keep her, and her mother Queen Viveca, safe. If possible.

Gunther, as his oldest son, had been given command of this mission and he led the troop with Ludwig, the youngest brother, as his second in command. Ludwig matched him stride for stride. Soon they raced over the drawbridge into the castle. Gunther looked around and realized that Alaric had brought more warriors south than he’d said he could muster. The assault on the barracks was proceeding but the Royal Guards were giving a good account. The remainder of Alaric’s force looked to be assaulting the Keep and the Great Hall.

“Gunther, Duke Alaric, breaks faith with us!” Ludwig said, pointing with his sword toward the Keep.

“Nay, brother, he simple has his own agenda. As do we. Come, let Duke Northumbria carry out his grudge against the Royal family. Our task is to protect our sister!” With that Gunther started jogging toward the castle proper.

The messenger raced up to Duke Alaric, “My lord, the men of Turvasatama have arrived.”

At this Alaric turned away from watching his warriors as they used a ram to smash through the oak and iron doors of the Keep. “What is this you say?”

“My lord a troop of men in Turvasatama colors have entered the castle. They are led by Baron Erick’s oldest son Gunther.”

Duke Alaric nodded, “Where are they? Has Turvasatama already taken the town?”

“Nay, my Duke. There is fighting and smoke at the garrison. Gunther is assaulting the castle.”

At this Alaric shrugged, “The old man doesn’t trust me. He looks to secure his daughter. Well, in his boots, I wouldn’t trust me either. Pay it no mind.”

Suddenly, there was a loud crack and Alaric heard his warriors shouting then he watched as the doors were broken. Not willing to wait, to see the king’s dead body, he leapt forward holding his war ax over his head he raced into the hall.

As soon as Alaric cleared the ruins of the doors he saw that a troop of soldiers from the royal guard had formed a shield wall and stood facing his Northmen. He laughed and moved to the front of his men. “Prince Caspar, come out! Fight me you cur! I demand satisfaction for what you did to my wife.”

To his surprise the men parted and the Prince strode forward. He was armed in his full armor and carried a shield and sword. “Is it my fault if your slut of a wife can’t keep her legs together? Old man, I name you traitor and curse you. Come let us fight!”

At this Alaric snarled a curse and jumped forward intending to kill the insolent pup. To his surprise, Caspar dropped his sword and lifted a hand palm out and shouted a word he didn’t understand. Impossibly fire blossomed around his hand and then like a wave it rushed toward Alaric. Alaric’s last thought as the fire consumed was of his pregnant wife, ‘Annika, I’m sorry, I’ve failed.’

The fire rolled forward cutting a swath through the Northmen and sending a back blast of heat toward the royal guards. Horus endured the back blast of heat and it took all his self-control not to buckle to his knees. He’d used up his entire magical reserve in one blast. He only hoped it was worth it. Looking back over his shoulder he shouted, “Forward!” and then put words to action. He picked up his dropped sword and charged the few soldiers who’d survived the blast.

Using the skill he’d stolen from the real Prince, Horus rushed forward. The first warrior he met was still dazed and he cut him down easily. Then he heard Nefertari boom out in Oberon’s commanding voice, “Follow the Prince! Forward, for Vannaheim! For the Crown, kill them all!”

The avalanche of steel was more than the dazed Northmen could deal with. In a flash, they were out of the Great Hall and into the courtyard. Horus wasted no time in racing to the drawbridge and fighting his way over it. Supported by the royal guard they were soon at the barbican.

Abruptly, Horus felt a sting in his neck right above his breast plate. The force of the blow caused him to stagger back a half step. He looked down without being able to comprehend the red and black feathered shaft of a crossbow bolt protruded from his neck. Then a second shaft joined the first and a third. He tried to breath but blood filled his lungs. The world started to fade and he felt his knees hit the wood of the bridge. As he fell forward he felt magic burn through his veins, and he spoke a word of power and felt the ring on his finger pulse, and then darkness consumed him.

Nefertari saw Horus fall as the scouts holding the barbican loosed a volley of crossbow bolts at him. She rushed to the Prince’s side and when she arrived she saw it was too late. Not knowing what else to do she pulled the ring from his hand and then stood up. She looked around and saw that her force of fifty Royal Guards had been reduced to just over thirty. “Follow me!” she shouted and ran forward. Charging the scouts before they had a chance to reload their crossbows.

Fighting through the barbican was hot, fierce, work and then she was through. Glancing around Nefertari darted down a side street. Oberon had never been the trusting type. There was a stable just inside the west bridge, with more than fifty horses, kept there by order of the King. If she could make it there, those horses would give Nefertari a chance. Oberon’s ancestral lands were west of Castletown. In a day, she’d be among his people. She could send out the Red-Arrow and the clan would respond. If it was to be civil war, Oberon was ready, and Nefertari planned to make good use of his forces.

Caspar heard the approach of armored men long before the pounding on the door. Drawing Cord’s sword she moved to the door, “Who approaches?”

“I’m Gunther, son of Duke Erick of Turvasatama, I demand that you open this door.”

Caspar threw open the door and dropped to one knee. “I am Cord, and I’m your prisoner.” Then she extended Cord’s sword hilt first. “Your sister is in the inner chamber.”

Gunther ignored the guard and rushed to the bed room. As he did he thought he heard the guard murmur, “Reditum.” He threw open the door in time to see Sanja sit up. “Sister?” Then he rushed to her side.

“Gunther, brother, thank the gods!”

The crescent moon glistened on the water as Caspar looked at the waves. The long boat rose and fell under the power of wind and wave as it made its way south. Without thinking about it she ran her hands slowly, protectively, over her belly. The babies in her womb had gone to sleep, yet her mind was too busy for sleeping. So much had happened over the last day and a half that Caspar had a hard time grasping it all.

The fall of Castletown to the Duke of Northumbria and Baron Turvasatama had left her feeling conflicted. She was the Son of Oberon and the rightful ruler of Vannaheim and to see her line overthrown was difficult to watch. Yet, Erick had come at her bidding. Then there was Kyler, her one true friend, who’d led the force that had opened the castle. He’d learned of his father’s disappearance and had decided that some fell magic was at work and had gone to Erick.

The fact that he’d been jealous of Kyler and had used the necklace to hurt him, in a petty revenge, left Caspar feeling ashamed and guilty. Then there was Northumbria. He’d just discovered that Alaric’s younger brother, Rolf, had been named regent before the Northmen had come south. The Duchess was with child and based on the timing Caspar didn’t know if it was his or Alaric’s baby.

“Are you well, sister?”

Caspar turned and saw that Ludwig had come to stand behind her and to one side by the railing. “I’m fine. It is difficult to sleep. Once we are home I will feel better.”

“Mother will be happy to see you. She has wished that she could be with you during your pregnancy, but father refused to allow her to visit.”

“Father is wise.” Caspar said then added, “Was there any word about the King?”

The King had escaped. With Alaric dead, the Northmen had returned Northumbria leaving Erick in control of Castletown. Caspar hadn’t been included in the war council but she wasn’t stupid. The troops of soldiers that had ridden out must have been sent to either hunt down the fugitive King and to bear the news of the conquest to the other Great Houses.

After Gunther made sure she was safe, Caspar had insisted they find the Queen and the ladies of the court to ensure their safety as well. She’d been a little surprised when Gunther agreed to her request. By noon, once the town had been secured and the fighting ended her father, Baron Erick had come to her. She had been sitting in the garden with the ladies of the court and the Queen. To her surprise her father had gone down on one knee and bowed to the queen and then to her. “Queen Viveca, daughter, my heart is lifted to see that you are safe.”

Caspar waited for Viveca to speak when she kept silent Caspar answered, “Father, I’m so glad to see you. Thank you, for the timely rescue.”

“I will always lift my sword to defend the weak and to rescue my family.” Erick stood up and offered his hand, “Walk with me daughter.”

Caspar had taken his hand and soon they’d left the members of court behind. Walking next to Baron Erick, Caspar was struck by the fact that she was only a little shorter than the Baron and the fact that in the time since Sonja had been his wife, the Baron had aged. The Baron’s hair was snowy white yet there was still a vitality about him. After several moments of silence Caspar asked, “What will you do next father?”

At this he laughed. “I will forge alliances with the Great Houses who are willing. I have gold, and soldiers, most of the Houses will join me. Then I will hunt Oberon and I will unite Vannaheim under my rule.”

“Can this be done?”

Erick paused and turned Caspar to face him, “Yes, daughter. I will name myself regent until your children are of age. This will bring the more traditional Houses in line. They’ve all heard the rumors of fell magic and think Oberon unfit to rule. The other Houses I will buy with gold or bring to heel with steel and fire. The only concern is Oberon. I’m sure he’s fled to the Red Hills where his clan lives. His people will come to him and they are tough fighters. If we are forced to take the fight into the Hills, it will be a long difficult campaign. I will offer him amnesty and exile if he abdicates in your favor. But enough of State, how are you? Your mother is anxious to see you.”

Caspar shook her head to drive out the memories. She hoped her father, Oberon, took the offer of exile but she doubted it. He had always been a proud man. But people change, Viveca, had agreed to go south with Caspar and it was a comfort to have her former mother with her. Even if she looked more like a sister than her mother. She still had questions, where was Gunter? What had become of the real Sanja? Why was the Queen so attached to her slave Unna? Then she felt the babies in her womb move and she sighed. Perhaps she’d have answers someday. At the moment, they didn’t matter. Without looking at Ludwig Caspar pulled the necklace, that had been the tool of so much chaos, up over her neck. She looked at the crystal for a second and then tossed it into the ocean. ‘I’m Sanja, now and forever. I pray that my wife is happy wherever she is.’ Even as she thought it a part of Caspar knew that Sanja must be dead.

Nefertari looked up at the falling snow. An autumn snow storm in the Red Hills, was unusual and had reduced visibility to a few yards. Nefertari forced her warriors to keep moving. To stay in one place meant death. They had fought one skirmish with the mercenary riders Turvasatama had sent after them. Now with the snow falling she thought they had a chance.

“This way my lads.”

Nefertari turned from the road up a hunting path into the hills. The path would lead to a lodge King Oberon used from time to time to hunt. It would easily accommodate her remaining twenty warriors. Once out of the snow she’d formulate a plan. Sending messages to each of the remaining five Great Houses was the first option. Next, she’d gather the Red Hill Clans then she’d take back Vannaheim from Baron Erick and teach him what happened to those who crossed Stygia!

The two hours it took to get to the hunting lodge left Nefertari colder than she’d ever been. The snow and the wind had made the trip miserable. Once within the lodge she saw that Oberon had had plenty of foresight. The lodge would easily hold all of her men and the barn had been filled with hay and oats. The horses were her life, at this point.

“My lord, my daughter and I hadn’t known you were coming. We can have a meal ready within the hour.”

The old man who spoke was the care taker of the lodge and his name came to Nefertari from the depths of her mind. “Thank you, Tyr, today has been difficult for all my men. Is there any beer left from my last visit?”

“Aye, my king. There are several barrels in the cellar. If I could have the use of a few of your strong men I will bring them up.”

“My sergeant will see to it. The men deserve a drink.” Looking around Nefertari added, “Is my room ready?”

“Yes, my lord. Although, it is just a bed chamber.”

“That’s fine Tyr. Please have a mug of beer and some food sent to me.”

When she retired to her chamber Nefertari couldn’t resist playing with the ring she’d taken from Horus dead hand. There was something about it, something that called to her. The knock on the door startled her. “Come in.”

The door opened and a tiny, timid looking girl came in. She offered a quick curtsy and brought a tray to Nefertari. “O king, my father sends his regrets. He is serving your men. He asked me to bring this to you.”

The tray held a mug of beer, bread, and what looked like a vegetable soup. The smell of the soup made Nefertari’s mouth water, and then she felt a burning from the ring.

“Girl, what is your name?”

“Brigit, my lord.”

“How old are you Brigit?”

“I’ve seen fifteen summers my lord.” The girl said eyes looking down. Her long blonde hair hid her face. Nefertari looked closer and saw that she’d developed a sizable chest even though it was hidden by the baggy dress she was wearing. Nefertari felt her manhood stir at the thought of another big breasted blonde barbarian to conquer.

“Brigit, this ring is enchanted and is important to me and the kingdom. I need someone I can trust to wear it and keep it secret until I return for it. Can you do this for me?” Nefertari said holding out Horus’s ring.

“I-I can my lord.” Brigit reached out, took the ring, and slipped it onto her hand. Then she offered another curtsy and as she stood up a ruby glow burst from her eyes and the crystal set into the ring. It only lasted for a few seconds and then the girl collapsed to her knees.

Nefertari stood up and moved to her side, “Brigit, are you alright?”

The girl looked up and met Nefertari’s eyes, “Do you not know your master, slave?” The voice was the tiny girl’s but the inflection was Horus and Nefertari smirked.

“Horus, how have you survived? I saw you cut down.”

“I paid the price to the lords of the Underworld. They did not come for my soul, instead my spirit went into the ring. I only needed the rise of the moon and a new body to act.” Then as if realizing he was in a new body Horus looked down. In surprise, he reached up to rub his enormous, soft, breasts and then he looked at Nefertari. “You fool! You gave the ring to a girl! A girl with no magical talent! I should send you screaming into the abyss for this!”

Horus world exploded and then he was looking up at the very large form of Nefertari standing over him. “Fool! You have no power over me. I’m the King! You’re a peasant girl with no magical power.” Slowly Nefertari pulled a small flask from within his robe, “Drink this.”

Horus scuttled back eyes wide in horror, “I-Is that what I think it is?”

Nefertari grinned evilly down at her former master. “Yes, little one. Soon you will know a woman’s pleasure. I think I’ll train you as a pleasure slave, just as I was once trained.”

Horus tried to fight but he was too small and too weak. Nefertari forced the burning potion down his throat and he shuddered knowing what would come next.

“Oh, and I’ll take that for safe keeping.”

Horus tried to fight to keep the ring but Nefertari pulled it from him and then hung it from a chain. Then she draped it around her neck. “For safe keeping until the full moon.” Slowly, Nefertari discarded her clothes while Horus watched. Nefertari’s manhood was already rampant and Horus licked his soft puffy feminine lips unable to look away.

Nefertari caught him looking and smirked, “We are going to have so much fun. I’m looking forward to teaching you how to be a pleasure slave, Brigit.”