294. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Princess Shorn
Amy decides on a compromise. She wants to read this book, but she can't stay here too long, so she decides to skip to the last chapter. She flips backward from the end, then begins to read.
“Bruised but not broken, Allarion stood up and surveyed the carnage. It had taken every ounce of her half-elvish strength, but she had managed to slay the mighty orc horde that defended the lair of the Sorceress Queen. Allarion knew that now all that lay between her and victory was the wicked queen's tower and the hell-spawned sorceress herself. She gazed down at her blood-drenched sword, which glowed faintly with magical power. Only this blessed blade could bring an end to the Sorceress Queen's wicked reign and free the beautiful Princess Celeste.”
Amy hears a sound off to her right and turns her head. She is disoriented as she sees, not the messy library she had been sitting in, but a charnel heap of dead orcs, in which one dying green monster stirs helplessly, its purple blood flowing from the stumps where its legs once were. After a moment it finishes dying and Amy's attention goes back to her more immediate concern: How and why is she here?
Amy gazes around and finds that she is in the middle of what looks like the aftermath of the great battle. A quick assessment leads her to the conclusion that on one side of the battle were about a thousand orcs, and on the other side was her. It looks, not to be modest, like Amy was the victor. She contemplates her situation.
“It seems I was drawn into the book,” she decides, “So how do I get out?” the narration before her sudden transition from her old life to this new one provides her only clue. “Maybe if I finish the story, I can go back. Good thing I started at the end!”
Amy decides that she needs to find this Sorceress Queen and end her life, messily, using this handy sword that she happens to be wielding. Amy takes a moment to assess her equipment. She's dressed in a shiny silver suit of armor, somewhat tarnished by purple orc's blood. In her left hand she holds the aforesaid glowing sword. In her right, a radiant silver shield. She takes a moment to look at her reflection in the shield. She finds her short reddish-brown hair pulled back into a sensible pony tail that reveals her pointy ears. She has green eyes and sharp features.
“Not too bad,” Amy says to herself, “Now, let's get this over with!”
Amy runs for the large, twisted tower that is the only structure in sight. She reaches the front gate and finds it locked. Frustrated, Amy kicks it.
CRAAAASH!
Amy doesn't know her own strength in this new body. Perhaps some magic has energized her? Whatever. She begins running up the spiral staircase toward the sorceress that she knows, based on reading far too many of these stories, waits at the top.
If Amy actually were Allarion, she would have noticed the trip wire set up across the stairs. And if she were Allarion, she would have noticed it triggering and dodged out of the way of the cloud of green, corrosive gas that was expelled from the wall. If she were Allarion, she would have reacted differently when that green grass hit her, corroding her armor and weapons completely and causing them to crumble into a pile of rust at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but a pair of red panties. If she were Allarion, she would have picked herself up from her loss, continued on with her adventure, and found some way to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, discovering that her true strength lay in her own character and her indomitable will, rather than her magical sword.
But Amy is not Allarion. When she is stripped of her magical equipment, she can only stare dumb-founded at her near-nudity, then shriek, cover her bare breasts, and turn to run from the tower.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!”
As she tries to leave, she runs smack into an orc guard, one of the only survivors of the recent battle. The impact causes her to bounce backwards, landing on her butt. Amy sees stars as she looks dizzily up at the green monster. The monster shrugs and slams its fist down on top of her head.
When Amy comes to, she is mounted on a rack, arms and legs spread-eagle, forced to watch a horrifying scene.
“Ah, Allarion, I was hoping you'd be awake for my moment of triumph!” The words come from a statuesque woman in a slinky black dress. She has jet black hair, atop which sits an imposing ebony crown. Around her neck is fastened a red cape, lined with fur. She stands at the top of a set of stone stairs. Beside her is a stone altar, on which sits a very nervous-looking young woman.
The young lady wears a pure white dress with intricate lace trim. On her head rests a golden jeweled tiara, ensconced in a nest of wavy blonde tresses. Her face has soft, gentle features, and she trembles, biting her fingernail nervously as she looks pleadingly down at Amy. Something about her fills Amy with platonic love. Amy wants nothing more than to devote her life to protecting the princess from all the evils of the world. A bubble encases the fair maiden, surrounding her with a soft white light.
The Sorceress continues. “You shall watch as I absorb Princess Celeste's power and destroy her beauty, making myself simultaneously the most powerful, and most beautiful, woman in all the world. But first, I must put an end to the protection spell that has kept me from having my way with my young prisoner this last fortnight.”
She reaches into the bust of her low-cut black dress and pulls out a vial of glowing yellow liquid, topped with a skull. “It took me a while, but I believe this potion should counteract that annoying circle of protection...” She pulls off the stopper and carefully applies a drop to her right index finger. Replacing the vial, she turns to the princess and raises her finger. With a delicate poke, she reaches out and pricks the bubble.
POP!
The aura bursts, leaving the princess completely vulnerable atop her stone alter. The slight white glow remains, however, a product of the magical energy that courses within her. She brings both hands to her mouth, shaking her head in fear.
“Now, now, princess, sorry to burst your bubble. Why don't I give you a kiss and make it all better?” The Sorceress seductively slides a knee onto the table, crawling after the princess. The princess tries to back off, but the Sorceress pins her dress. Soon the Sorceress is on top of the princess. The sorceress's left arm wraps around the princess's waist, pinning the princess's arms to her body, while the sorceress's right hand holds the back of the princess's head.
In a last, desperate bid to escape her hideous fate, the princess screams. “ALLARION! SAAAAAAAAAAAVE MEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Amy struggles, but it's too late. She is firmly bound, with no chance of escape. The Sorceress smiles lasciviously, then plunges in.
The princess struggles futilely against the kiss as the pair's lips lock. The struggles slow, then cease, as the princess seems to fade. The faint glow around the princess gradually sputters out, while the Sorceress grows more luminous, dark energy crackling and popping around her. At last the sorceress lets go. She stands and smirks at the princess, who sits up, hands at her sides, grasping the edge of the alter, looking dumbfounded.
“Behold, the symbol of all that is good and beautiful in this land!” The queen gestures at the princess with a flourish. “But first, let's get a good look at her.” She snaps her fingers and the princess's dress quickly unravels, leaving her in her royal undergarments. The princess has quite the figure. Her large, but not obscene, breasts are encased by a tightly-laced purple silk corset. Her royal loins are covered by a matching pair of purple silk panties, with her noble house's coat-of-arms embroidered in gold thread on the crotch and the seat. Her long, shapely legs are covered by a tight pair of white silk stockings, held in place by a white lace garter belt, and her feet are clad in a dainty pair of white heels with roses on the instep.
At first, nothing happens. Then the princess's skin begins slowly changing color, gradually turning a sickly shade of green. Then- POP! Her left leg changes. It become skinny and green, far too small for her stocking, which wrinkles as it falls around the stick it now encases. Her foot becomes long and skinny, with three six-inch toes. The change sends the princess's high-heeled shoe flying across the room.
POP!
Her right leg changes, too, sending her other shoe flying. The princess only stares into space, incomprehending.
POP!
Her right arm turns long, green, and skinny, barely half an inch thick, and terminating in a three-fingered hand. The rings she was wearing clatter to the ground.
POP!
Now her left arm makes the same change. Another shower of jewelry.
POP!
Her body shrinks, becoming a straight oblong shape. Lacking breasts, her once-tight corset slides down her body, piling on her skinny hips. She's lost her figure, and looks like a kid playing dress-up in her mother's clothes.
POP!
Her neck disappears, her head shrinking down like a turtle to emerge directly from her now much smaller body. With the change in her arms, her shoulders have practically disappeared.
POP!
The princess's face changes. Her mouth and ears disappears, her eyes become white ping-pong balls with black pupils. Her nose flattens and turns to a small downward-pointing triangle.
FWOOSH!
Her blonde curls fall off, leaving behind a perfectly smooth, round, pea-green head.
The Sorceress laughs at the defeated princess. “You won't be needing this anymore!” She snags the princess's tiara, removes her own crown, then places the princess's crown daintily atop her head. The princess just stares, blinking dumbly.
The Sorceress sneers. “Hop to it, slave!” She snaps her fingers and the princess hops up. Now the princess is revealed. Her feet are splayed out at a 180 degree angle, her legs are bent lazily, her skinny, tubular body is hunched over. She no longer has any breasts or musculature, her torso is just a skinny cylinder of rubbery green skin. Her long arms hang down limply to her knees. The purple corset she wore hangs from her body, no longer filled out by the princess's body, and slowly slides from her hips, down her legs to her feet, in the process pulling the white lace garter belt and baggy silk stockings with it.. Her only attire now is a pair of purple silk panties, embroidered with her family's coat of arms.
The Sorceress mugs gleefully, “Now, turn around and let the viewers at home get a good look at you!” She points at the princess and a tiny bolt of lightning arcs from her finger tip to the princess's butt. The princess silently leaps straight up in the air, then awkwardly begins her turn. She lacks the motor control or waist mobility to turn gracefully, so she just sort of flaps her feet as she waddles in place, slowly turning three-hundred-sixty degrees and in the process showing off her three-foot-tall, featureless torso, her bald head, her skinny, gangly limbs.
The Sorceress throws her head back and laughs at the pathetic display. “Nice undies, Princess! You shall wear those panties for the rest of your miserable days, as a reminder of what you once were, and all that you have lost. Now, go fetch me my pleasure instruments, you worthless, sexless cur!”
At this last remark the princess uses her gangly right hand to pull out the waistband of her panties and cranes the part of her body where her neck used to be downward so that she can look inside, curious about the silky garment's contents. Sure enough, the spell has left her completely smooth in the nether regions, entirely devoid of sex organs. As the former princess, who had prized her virginity, wistfully contemplates all the sex she'll now never get a chance to have, the Sorceress Queen rears back her right leg, then kicks the former royalty's little green butt. The disgraced creature lurches forward, then waddles, bow legged, arms dangling behind her, down the steps and over to a chest, where she pulls out a big black box and begins dragging it on the floor behind her back to the Sorceress Queen.
“Now as to you...” The Queen addresses Amy, “You've caused me a lot of trouble, so we're going to have a little fun...” The Queen reaches the bottom of the steps just as the sad ex-princess does. The Queen rewards the princess's work with another zap to the rear. “On your hands and knees, slave!” The pathetic green creature gets down on all fours, and the Queen daintily sits down on her back. The Queen then opens the black box and reaches in. After a bit of rummaging, she produces a riding crop and hits it menacingly into the palm of her hand. Amy gulps.
The next day, following a night of bondage, whips, and chains, and after eating the evil Queen's dark (yet surprisingly tasty!) pussy more times and in more positions than she can count, Amy is released from bondage.
The Sorceress Queen looms over Amy, fixing upon her a malicious grin.
“You tried to defeat me and you failed, completely and utterly. Now I give you the greatest conceivable punishment for your defiance: to spend the remainder of your pathetic life wandering these lands that now are forever doomed to remain under my thrall, knowing that all the misery you see is because of your own failure.”
Amy hangs her head, knowing that she has truly and completely failed this world.
As Amy turns to leave, the former princess hobbles over to the Sorceress Queen. She begins hopping urgently.
“What's that? You want me to give the fallen heroine a parting gift?” The princess hops up and down, bending her body up and down in a manner that simulates nodding.
The Queen smiles. “Do you want me to give her a great treasure?”
The princess stops hopping and begins twisting, simulating a shaking of the head.
“Do you want me to give her a powerful magical spell?”
More twisting.
“I know! You want me to give her a special kiss, just like the one I gave you! A reward for the hero Allarion from the princess that she swore her life to protect and whose very existence depended upon her competence!”
The princess hops and nods, and fixes Amy with the closest thing her ping-pong eyes can give to a withering stare.
“Well, who am I to deny a princess?” laughs the Sorceress Queen. She lunges forward, grabs Amy by the shoulders, and spins Amy around. Amy tries to struggle, but finds she can't resist the dark Queen's death grip.
“Gimme some sugar, baby!” The Queen plunges in and, as their lips touch, Amy's world explodes with dark energy. Her vision fades to black...
Amy opens her eyes with a start. She's sitting on the floor in the library, her back propped up against a bookshelf.
“What a crazy dream!” she thinks, “I wonder how long I was out?” She looks down at the book that now lies open on her stomach. Curious, she flips to the end. Great swaths of text have been crossed out with a red editor's pen, with a new ending written in: “And Allarion and the fair Princess Celeste lived miserably ever after!”
“Huh,” says Amy, “I guess it was real after all. I suppose technically I reached the end of the book without dying, so I got sent back. Sorry about that, Allarion!” she chuckles, “Better luck next time, I guess!”
Amy stands up and casually tosses the book back onto the shelf where she found it. She turns to leave.
As she walks to the door, she suddenly feels a strange sickness, as though all the energy was draining from her body. Her mind grows fuzzy, and her feet slow down, then stop. She finds herself staring, slack-jawed, into space, hunched over, knees bent. Her skin begins changing color.
POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! FWOOSH!
In short order, Amy is changed into a short, gangly green creature like Princess Celeste from the story. Her feet grow too big for her boots and socks, which fly off in opposite directions. Her skinny, perfectly round torso can no longer support her jeans, which slide down to her ankles, revealing her heart-print panties. Her pink bra hangs awkwardly at her chest, too big for her total lack of breasts and unsupported by her now non-existent shoulders, it's only held on by the armpits of Amy's black t-shirt. Her glasses clatter to the ground when her ears disappear, and her brown hair falls in a heap at her feet.
Now lacking all purpose and motivation, Amy waddles upstairs to find Boswell, who soon puts her to work. He removes her shirt and bra, allowing her arms freedom to move, but leaves the heart-print panties on her as a reminder of her past life. After some training, Amy is put to work serving hors d'oeuvres at parties, where she uses her gangly green arms to hold serving trays and waddle through the crowd. Amy's new favorite hobby is sitting on the ground, legs splayed out, staring into space, remembering what it once was like to live life as a human, with free will and self-determination, and attempting, futilely, to shed a tear for her new life of servitude.
Amy's second favorite hobby is gazing forlornly into her heart-print panties at the place where her genitals used to be and wishing she had gotten a bit more use out of them when she had the chance.
Amy is in no state to continue this adventure.