A Macho Man's Humiliating Morning
Calm down. You're a real man. The kingdom's number one macho guy. That's just meat stuffed into pig intestines. It's normal food!
The maid's skilled hands secretly ravaged my lower body. Once the humiliating morning cleansing time ended, another form of bondage awaited me.
Rustle. A new piece of cloth wrapped tightly between my legs with no gaps. It was far thinner than the nighttime version, yet still an alien, thick padding that couldn't compare to flimsy panties.
"Hngh..."
When the maid tightened the knot, my pale thighs twitched without my permission. The stiff cotton fabric pressed directly against the most sensitive, fragile bare skin. With every step, the soft flesh of my inner thighs rubbed against it, creating a strange, sticky friction. The suffocating fullness that packed even the cleft of my backside. This horrific sense of restraint—my entire groin completely blocked off—was something my original beast-like body could never have imagined.
Still, compared to yesterday's cotton-packed monstrosity, this thickness felt almost reasonable. Damn it all, humans really were creatures of adaptation.
"Now, please rise. It is time to don the corset."
Margareta's dry voice rang out like an executioner's final verdict dropping the guillotine blade. I let out a heavy sigh and stood.
The time had come to crush bone and flesh. I was positioned before a large full-length mirror. The maids approached and wrapped a thick bundle of leather and silk—studded with cold metal supports—around my waist.
In the mirror stood a beauty in undergarments that half-bared her breasts, cheeks flushed with shame. Slender shoulders. Skin so white it dazzled the eye. Two voluptuous breasts rising abundantly beneath shimmering golden hair, looking ready to spill out at any moment. Even through a man's gaze, the body was so seductive and luscious it would make anyone swallow hard.
But the fact that this was my body sent chills of pure horror down my spine.
The maids yanked the leather straps hard from behind me.
"Hup!"
"Ugh...!"
My breath caught in my throat as my waist cinched to a mere handful. The gruesome pressure of my ribs curling inward. It felt like my stomach was being shoved up into my esophagus.
"J-just a little gentler...!"
My tearful, desperate plea didn't make Margareta blink.
"Elegance for a princess of this kingdom flows from a perfectly straight posture. Pull tighter."
Creeeeak—!
The leather straps screamed as they wrenched even tighter. My breasts, swollen as if they might burst, were violently hauled upward until they nearly touched my collarbone.
"Aaaah! I can't—I can't breathe...!"
Oxygen deprivation sent my head spinning. White stars burst across my vision. If this had been my original body, one flex of my lats would have shredded this scrap of cloth to pieces. Yet this cursed female form could only bend helplessly, powerless against the strength of two mere maids.
My reflection in the mirror had become grotesquely sensual. The white cleavage squeezed so tightly it looked ready to explode. A waist so unnaturally narrow that two hands could easily encircle it. The perfect hourglass silhouette. The taut flesh, veins faintly visible through the cleavage, heaved roughly up and down with every panting breath.
This was blatant violence. A vicious violence that transformed my body into the perfect ornamental doll for satisfying men's lust.
Yesterday I had nearly foamed at the mouth and collapsed. Today I endured with nothing more than a furrowed brow. Fighting off the dizziness, I clenched both fists. The sharp sting of nails digging into soft palms forcibly anchored my mind. My reduced lung capacity forced me to pant like an animal, but at least the world didn't go black.
"Thank you for your hard work. We will now dress you in the gown."
After the ordeal, I sat at the tea table. The voluminous sky-blue dress, frills everywhere, spread across the floor like flower petals. Even the simple act of pulling out the chair and sitting was torture. The heavy skirt weighed down on my waist, and every time I lowered my hips and bent my knees, the thick cloth packed into my crotch dug unpleasantly into tender flesh. Each time I touched the cushion, the diaper hidden beneath the skirt rustled, but the fabric was so thick that the sound didn't escape.
Damn it. I can perfectly control my bodily functions now, yet I still can't take this thing off.
A wave of self-loathing crashed over me, but I couldn't show it. I kept my legs pressed together as demurely as possible, back ramrod straight, and looked down at the table.
Breakfast had been served. On an ornate silver platter lay three paper-thin apple slices, half a glass of warm milk, and one long, plump smoked sausage sitting there all alone.
This was a meal? Newly hatched chicks got more feed than this. With my original body, I would have torn into half a whole roasted pig the moment I opened my eyes.
Saliva flooded my mouth. Meat. I craved thick, greasy, dripping beast meat. A man should start his morning by chomping down on rough chunks of flesh—that was the only way to feel satisfied.
"I have specially added protein for energy restoration. Please chew slowly."
Margareta gestured toward the sausage. Her cool gaze slid over my unnaturally narrow waist and the breasts that threatened to burst free. I felt like a pet animal whose every bite was controlled to maintain this sensual figure.
The corset had shrunk my stomach to the size of a walnut. I knew from experience that anything more than this portion would come right back up. Without complaint, I picked up the silver fork.
I stabbed the fork straight into the center of the long sausage.
Thud. A dull sound rang out as the sharp tines pierced the taut skin and sank heavily inside. The bouncy surface glistened with tiny beads of juice. It looked like it would pop the moment it entered my mouth. The elastic resistance traveled up the fork handle into my fingertips.
I took the knife and made a shallow cut along the surface. The split opened with a wet pop, revealing white fat and red muscle fibers in a way that should have been appetizing—but instead looked utterly repulsive. The rich aroma of freshly smoked meat stung my nose. My stomach nearly growled.
It was exactly then that it happened.
The illustration from that horrible book I had secretly stolen a glance at inside the drawer last night flashed through my mind like lightning. That accursed forbidden novel that perfectly captured the secret, sticky tastes of this damn princess. The devilish BL novel that had gnawed away at my sanity all night after I carelessly flipped open a single page out of curiosity.
It wasn't mere pornography. It was a revolting, obscene erotic picture book that used my former comrades—the men I had sweated and fought beside every day in the holy knight order—as its models. The scene of two muscular men panting, entangled like beasts beneath moonlight. Sweat droplets glistening slickly. Thick muscles slamming together with wet smacks. The raw, animal grunts of males in heat. Those disgusting, lewd images had been seared into my retinas like red-hot branding irons.
No matter how hard I shook my head to erase them, sticky, wet moans lingered in my ears like auditory hallucinations.
What drove me the craziest of all was the sentence from the diary that the fake princess now inside my original body had left behind, drooling with excitement.
Aaah, today I saw the knight commander's massive, veined forearm. How enormous and hard must his sword be? Just imagining the commander roughly pinning the vice-commander against the wall is already making me wet down below.
"Huk...!"
I nearly dropped the sausage. Clang! The fork struck the silver platter with a shrill scrape. Suddenly the smoked sausage before me no longer looked like food. It looked like... like something massively obscene and erect. A 'man's symbol.'
The long, red piece of flesh skewered on the fork. The slippery, glistening tip. Even the cut I'd made earlier with the knife looked like a strangely protruding vein.
Fuck... This is actually insane!
My throat closed tight. The meat I had wanted to stuff into my mouth moments ago had transformed in an instant into a hideous, veined monstrosity that filled my entire field of vision.
"Princess? Is something wrong? Your face is terribly pale."
"N-no... It's nothing."
I hung my head and panted. I had lost my mind. Completely and utterly. The hand gripping the fork shook violently. Cold sweat rolled down my spine, soaking the inside of the tightly laced corset. My throat burned; I swallowed hard.
Gulp.
The sound of saliva sliding down my throat rang out far too lewdly. It was enough to drive anyone mad. This hormone-riddled female body was converting the textual memories from last night into vivid visual sensations, ravaging my brain.
Calm down. You're a twenty-year-old real man. The macho pride of the kingdom's knight order. That's just meat stuffed into pig intestines. It's normal food!
I desperately hypnotized myself, forcing my ragged breathing back under control. At that exact moment, through the half-open door, two royal guards on shift change came into view, chatting quietly. Ordinary men clapping each other on the shoulder and laughing heartily. Their silver armor sparkled brilliantly in the morning sunlight. A blond knight and a black-haired knight, helmets removed after sweating through their duty.
The blond knight wiped sweat from his brow as if exhausted by the heat. The black-haired knight grinned, offered him a towel, and casually wrapped a hand around the blond knight's broad shoulder.
Simple, everyday camaraderie between men.
But this body—in heat—did not miss the moment. A shiver raced up my spine, and heat flooded through me.