The Princess's Circumstances 4
Over the course of three weeks, through countless acts of masturbation, nearly all of Kite’s memories had come flooding back. But the precise recollection of how the bodies had been switched remained stubbornly out of reach. All she had done was jack off like a dog in heat.
After getting caught masturbating at the guard post and taking a brutal thrashing from Corporal Aslan—followed by endless push-ups and disciplinary drills—she finally came to her senses. And then, carefully, she began piecing together the memories from before the swap.
Two months after the end of the Latvian civil war, the ruins of an ancient mage were discovered in southern Latvia. Defense force personnel were pulled for the excavation for nearly three months. Even Kite—the raw recruit she was now—had been drafted into the detail.
The entrance had been riddled with traps, but a seismic shift had collapsed the middle passage and made getting inside relatively easy. Court mage Grimwald, who could read the ancient tongue, deciphered the records. When part of the ruins caved in, Kite had saved the old man’s life, and from that moment the two of them grew close at a startling pace. Evenings they drank together; on leave they hit the brothels together… and that was when Kite finally graduated from virginity. Grimwald had even footed the bill for a session with one of the house’s top girls. They became the best of friends.
Three months later, confirmation came: the ruins belonged to a research laboratory of a mage once known as both a black magician and a master thief. Among the finds were a holy sword lost by the ancient Britain Empire and a tiara once belonging to Astria. Tiny Latvia decided to hold a formal ceremony to return the relics.
Aaaahhhhh!!!!
Ah—! It came back to her.
The Orb of Control…!!!
After the return ceremony, they had taken a magical orb discovered in the ruins and chanted some strange incantation over it. Light had flashed from the sphere; she had felt as though her body were being sucked into it—and then her consciousness had vanished. The next thing she knew, she was waking up in Grimwald’s laboratory to a beating from Corporal Aslan. Apparently she had left the barracks at night without reporting, and the whole unit had been thrown into chaos.
“If I find that orb, there has to be a way back!”
Determined to find a way home, she headed for Grimwald’s research lab. The door was locked. When she asked her squad leader about Grimwald, the answer was that he had suddenly gone mad and been locked away in the underground dungeon.
Then, mid-masturbation, the memory of where Grimwald kept a spare key floated up. During personal maintenance time she slipped away and opened the lab door. The place sat in the basement of a remote building; foot traffic was almost nonexistent.
On the floor lay a single neglected orb, its surface scarred. On the desk sat pages written in the ancient tongue. As a princess she had studied ancient languages; she knew the pronunciation and the simpler vocabulary, so she could read it. She realized at once that the text was the very incantation Grimwald had chanted.
Parts of the writing made the method clear:
First, place a hand upon the crystal orb and imprint a target spell upon an object.
Have the slave wear or carry the marked object. When the master holds the crystal orb and chants the incantation, dominion over the target is achieved.
If she used this orb… could she go back?
But she had no way to mark a target and get the original Leticia to wear it…
She fretted until exhaustion overtook her. She locked the door and dozed off in a corner.
The moment she jolted awake from her nap, for reasons she could not explain, a notification flared across the surface of the orb.
A target has been locked. Dominion magic may now be invoked.
She hesitated over whether to cast the domination spell—then decided to do it. She began chanting the incomprehensible words written in the book, swallowing dryly as she forced each syllable out. The pulse of mana flowing through her hands grew fiercer and fiercer. Lights began to strobe inside her pupils like a chain of explosions. It felt as though the whole thing might detonate at any second.
Then came the sudden, dizzying sensation of floating upward. Her consciousness was swallowed by darkness at terrifying speed.
“It can’t be…”
Slowly, she lowered her gaze.
“…W-whoa!!”
What filled her vision was… a deep cleavage. Swelling breasts. The pattern on the exquisite dress was the royal crest of Astria. This dress was her favorite high-end piece from Crown Oz. Golden hair cascading to her waist. Legs sheathed in white stockings, and high heels.
She began to tremble without meaning to.
“I… did I really come back?!”
She stood, certain now that this was her own room in Astria, and bolted to the vanity mirror in the dressing room.
The woman reflected there was unmistakably Leticia Ritz Astria. The original face that had not been hers for a full year.
“Did I really come back?”
She stared blankly at the mirror. “…It wasn’t a dream…”
She murmured as she studied herself. Lately, saying “herself” had automatically summoned Kite’s face in her mind. But the person in the mirror now was the continent’s most beautiful woman—the one who had accepted the Britain crown prince’s proposal and was soon to become crown princess. Astria’s youngest princess… Leticia Ritz Astria.
Eyes deep enough to drown in. A smooth, high-bridged nose on a face of peerless beauty. The voluptuous figure that, for weeks, had been the object of her every frantic orgasm.
“I…”
She gazed into the glass and felt her cheeks flush hotter and hotter. The woman in the mirror was as beautiful as Aphrodite herself. After a year of living as a man, and after nearly a hundred sessions of masturbation in the three weeks since the paizuri incident—dozens of them using her original body as the fantasy—Leticia the princess had become the perfect match for the ideal she herself had built.
Heat flooded her body; the excitement was impossible to suppress. The princess before her eyes was no longer a figure from a dream. She was herself. The interest, the lust, that the male self had begun to feel toward the princess was now directed at the person standing right here. There was no reining it in.
“Ahh… I’m a princess again…”
In the space of a single year, private’s life had become the natural order of things, and a princess’s body had grown strange. Even the dress and stockings she was wearing now only stoked her arousal further.
“Something like this… to me…”
She eyed the dress with fascinated curiosity. It felt utterly unfamiliar—almost as if she were cross-dressing. She touched the fabric. Compared to a defense-force uniform, it was impossibly soft. When her gaze drifted down into the valley of her cleavage, her face burned even redder. There they were: two full, generous hills. Larger than the faint memory of a year ago, grown fuller still. Soft and elastic and enough to make her heart race.
“I… am Princess Leticia.”
She still could not quite believe she had returned. A year had been far too long. She had already become a degenerate private first class of a man.
“Then… down here, too…?”
With a faintly flushed face she let her eyes travel lower. She carefully lifted the hem of the dress and slid a hand along until it rested over her crotch. There was a soft little mound—but none of the familiar, masculine weight. In other words, the precious thing had vanished as if it had never existed.
Amazing. It was really gone.
A sound escaped her throat; there was no stopping now. Instead of the men’s trunks she had grown used to, her fingers found the lace-trimmed panties, and beneath them the princess’s sensitive flesh. The touch alone made her exhale hard.
“Aha… t-this is… aha…”
The princess’s pussy she had dreamed about for three straight weeks. Past nostalgia, it had become the object of pure male lust. She wanted to touch it… see it… put something inside it. Those desires had taken root deep inside the body that had once been Kite’s. Even the faded memories of how she used to pleasure herself as a princess came rushing back, and she was already throbbing with need.
Ah… without realizing it, she herself had been dyed thoroughly male.
“Ang… hnnngh…”
Breathing hard, she peeled down the stockings. The whole picture looked exactly like a man who had just become a woman for the first time and was exploring his new body out of pure curiosity.
Yeah. The precious thing was really gone.
She pressed her fingers directly against the princess’s soft cleft and nearly melted at the sensation.
Haa… haa… ha…
Instead of the male climax she had grown so accustomed to, she sank completely into a princess’s masturbation. Still half-dressed in the rumpled gown, she watched herself in the mirror and lost herself. If she had never spent a year as a man, she would never have felt this way about her own body. But seen through a soldier’s eyes, that body was far too stimulating. She knew it was strange—and she could not stop.
The long-lost sensation. Or rather, the feeling of a colonial private becoming a princess for the very first time.
“Ah, I can’t hold it…”
The lush body was already enough, but even the underthings she once wore without a second thought now made her pulse race. Looking at the damp panties covering her lower half, she felt the heat rise again. Her body was aroused as a princess; her mind was still aroused as a man. She was chasing a princess’s paradise and a man’s climax at the same time.
Her left hand slipped between the dress and her cleavage, seeking the warmth within, confirming the soft weight of her own breasts, and drowning in the reality of them.
“Hwaaah…”
She worked her hand deeper, savoring the size and the give. The princess’s soft tits she had never been able to touch while she was Kite—she was drunk on them now.
“Ah, so soft… this is… o-oh, the princess’s breasts. Ah—my breasts.”
When her fingertips found the hardening tips, a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through her.
“Ang… nngh.”
The feeling of flicking a nipple… it’s electric.
Waves of sensation rolled through her as she began to roll and tease those little peaks. The sharp, delicious pleasure was almost like the pleasure of Kite’s cock.
“When I touch here… it feels so good… aaah.”
She kept stimulating them, sometimes using the edge of a nail.
“Ah, I can’t take it.”
She hiked the dress higher and stared at the white panties, cheeks burning—not with shame, but with pure excitement.
“I… I really used to be a princess, didn’t I? I still can’t believe it…”
A light touch to the crotch of the panties told her how soaked they already were. A sensation completely different from a man’s. Something hot was slowly seeping from inside. She flushed even deeper.
“Ah… it’s good. The scent is so good.”
Nothing like the night-flower smell after a solitary male orgasm; this fragrance was sweet and intoxicating, and it drove her wild. Without even taking the panties off, she slid her right hand inside and began to map the soft cleft from the top down, covering it, exploring it. The thrilling, ticklish texture. She felt, with absolute certainty, that the cock was gone for good.
“Aaa… nngh, uuuh…”
She slowly stroked a signal along the princess’s slit. That alone was enough to make the princess’s body shudder and surge with heat.
“Ah, incredible… mm…”
She worked breasts and crotch at the same time. The visual of the continent’s greatest beauty, still in her dress, falling apart all alone only stoked the fire higher.
“Oh… aaah…”
Her hand inside the panties began to writhe with growing urgency. The hand working her breasts under the dress grew rougher. She was lusting as a man. An entire year’s worth of male greed felt like it was finally being unleashed.
The cleft grew wetter and wetter. The small, taut flesh pulled tight. So this is a princess’s pleasure, she thought in wonder, and her senses locked into perfect sync with it.
“Haang, hnn, aaang!”
If she were still a man she would already be desperate to come. She knew she was racing toward climax as a princess now.
“Hnn… hah… it feels so good… I’m so happy…”
She bit down on her voice so it would not carry, yet the moans that escaped were thicker and denser than usual. She could feel the princess’s pleasure climbing higher and higher—slower than a man’s abrupt ejaculation, but steadily, relentlessly, hauling excitement up to the peak.
The instant that thought formed, she jammed her right hand between her thighs and felt her consciousness turn pure white.
“Ugh—!”
The next moment she jerked upright—and the stiff, furious cock inside her trunks was in the middle of shooting.
Ah, ah, ah…
A princess’s climax, immediately followed by a colonial private’s climax. Thick semen pulsed out in repeated spurts; the distinctly male pleasure crashed through her.
“Ah, fuck—was it a dream…?”
A wet dream, of all things… Had the magic actually fired and made her a princess for even a moment, or had she simply had a filthy dream? A wet dream… Had she truly become a perfect man?
It was mortifying. She, once praised as the most beautiful woman on the continent… was pitiful beyond words.
Thinking that, she hastily shoved the chair back, yanked open her trousers and trunks, and checked the damage. The familiar night-flower smell. Thick semen spattered messily inside the fabric. Absolute worst. At least the place was deserted, but still—what a hassle.
She cleaned up the trunks as best she could, then carefully gathered up the Orb of Control.