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This story is based in a fantasy/medieval world so I have taken the liberty of changing a few things to match my own vision. Despite the technology level of this reality I have imported certain items and words such as bra and panties simply for my own amusement. Twelve-year old Penrod toed the line expectantly, eagerly looking forward to the race. To look at him he stood out not at all, save for perhaps in height. He was the youngest of the crowd of boys jostling for the prime starting position, although a keen eye might notice that no one chose to jostle him. There was nothing about him that would lead an ignorant observer to choose him as the Crown Prince of Belisle out of the crowd of youths. He was clean, yes and obviously well fed, but so too were the others. Perhaps Penrod, 'Pen' to his friends, was a shade brighter of eye and a little quicker to smile than the others but he had less to fear of the race's outcome than did they. He was the sole heir of the Kingdom and the only one allowed to practice the actual course chosen for this year's race. It would not do for him to fail, nor would it do for Belisle to be without an heir considered to be an adult when the King of rival Mulgrave arrived for the peace talks. Twelve was too young to be allowed to take part in the annual Kor-Za, but the King had his reasons for breaking tradition. Belisle must appear strong if the peace talks were to go well and with the death of his younger brother only weeks before, he had no adult male heirs. Penrod must step up and prove himself in the Kor-Za or risk more years of war. This did not mean that Perodin, Penrod's father and King, had not taken steps to assure his son's success in the manhood race. As a sporting event, it was more glamour than trial as few if any ever failed to succeed. In ancient days their people had viewed the race as vital to the strength of the kingdom and those who failed were chastised, or even killed. In these enlightened days the choice was humiliation for the failures. Following the tradition of the past two centuries, those boys unable to complete the race in the allotted time were forced to dress, live and act like women for a period of time, but were all allowed to retake the test the following year. Peasant lads who failed wore dresses for a turn of the moon. In order to set the proper example, those among the nobility declared that their sons who failed would live as a woman for three months. Not to be outdone Penrod's great, great, great grandfather had decreed that failures of noble birth would live as women for a year. Few were the instances were those retaking the test ever failed and in reality few ever failed the test to begin with. Time had watered down the race until it was simply a cross-country run with ample time to finish. Most failures were those who twisted an ankle, or broke a leg descending a hill too quickly. Those with birth defects that would make the race impossible to complete were allowed to opt-out of the race altogether and just remain as sub-adults for their lives. Those among the nobility with such defects were not given that opportunity, as too much responsibility, power and wealth were at stake. Such was the case of Chadwick von Stegewick. Chadwick was the only son of Duke Arin Stegewick and the sole heir of the Northern provinces. It was these provinces that annually bore the brunt of the attacks staged by Mulgrave and the Stegewicks had long proven their fighting ability in blunting those invasions. With no other heir, Duke Arin forced his only son to take the manhood rites despite a foot twisted since birth. It was strongly doubted that young Chad could even complete the Kor-za, much less finish in the allotted time. The Duke had even taken the unusual step of delaying his son's first attempt and at fifteen Chad was the eldest of all those attempting the race this year. Pen glanced at his friend and gave him a wink of encouragement. "You'll be fine, Chad, don't worry." Chad smiled weakly, but his wide eyes belied the fear in his heart. "Look, we worked it all out didn't we?" Pen asked. "I'll stay with you the whole way, you'll make it. We'll finish together in plenty of time. I won't let you fail if I have to carry you." "We'll make it if I can make it. Pen you should go on without me," Chad stammered. "No way, we'll make it together or pick out dresses together," laughed Pen, confident in the knowledge that he could never fail, even if he were not the Crown Prince of the realm. Chad's smile grew a little broader. It was hard not to believe in the confident young prince. Every morning for two weeks Pen had been allowed, perhaps encouraged was a better word, to practice this year's course for the Kor-za. Each day he had returned that evening with Chad to show him the obstacles they would need to overcome and the best ways for them to make it together. Chad knew the greatest obstacle he would need to surpass was simply keeping his twisted body moving. Pen saw the priest stepping forward to begin the race and excitedly tugged the warriors knot at the back of his neck a little tighter, ensuring that his long black hair would not impede his vision in the race. A boy he knew had failed the test just last year for that very reason, his hair obscured his sight for an instant and the fellow had stepped into a hole and broken his ankle. That would not happen to Pen. The ox-horn sounded and the race was on. Whooping and yelling the crowd of thirty-six boys burst down the steep trail, carefully passing their prince but once past him they ran on uncaring who they bumped or knocked down. Chad only just managed to keep his feet after one intentional shove. Once the 'herd', as Pen laughingly referred to the other race participants, was out of the way, he and Chad moved side by side down the trail at the fastest pace they knew Chad could maintain. Pen did not notice the startled looks on many of the noble's faces, nor the proud smile on his father's, but would not have cared if he had. His friend needed his help and he would be there for him. On and on they ran, Chad freely perspiring and breathing hard almost immediately. Pen stayed beside his friend, only occasionally running ahead to check out prime ambush spots. Rivalries among the nobility had sometimes spilled over into the Kor-za and there were those who dared to dream of who would be the next Duke of the Northern Provinces should Chad fail to attain manhood. No attacks came and the boys continued to plod along, resting only when Chad was forced to. Two hours they made their way along, Pen visualizing the road ahead. Most of the other boys would be finished by now and he and Chad were making good time. In his mind he was picturing the ladies of the court and how they would fawn over him when he completed his race. Even though he was twelve, he would be a man and could finally take part in the offers made to him by the ladies, participating in their rite of ascendancy to womanhood. He was thinking of one particular young lass when he heard a sickening 'pop' and Chad's cry of pain. "What happened?" Pen demanded, rushing back to his friend's side. "It's my knee, I stepped in a hole," wailed Chad, clutching his leg in pain. "I didn't see it?" his words were broken off by another cry of pain as Pen touched the knee. "It's twisted at least," he declared. "You'll never be able to put any weight on it." Chad was crying, as much for the pain as what he knew was going to be his fate when he failed to finish the race in time. "I'm going to be wearing a dress for months! I'll have to wear silk underwear and be called 'Missy' and?" Pen punched his friend in the shoulder. "Stop that, 'cause it's just no true. I told you we'd finish and we will. I'll carry you." "No, we'll never make it in time, Pen, just go on without me." "Not hardly," Pen stated in his most imperious voice, the one that always got him his way with the servants. He considered taking Chad's arm over his own shoulders so that the other boy could help bear some of his weight on his other leg, but threw that out when he realized it was Chad's good leg that had been injured. Not much help would be available from Chad's twisted foot. He'd have to carry him. Pen struggled to pull his friend's dead weight onto his shoulders but stood up easily once he was in position. He worked hard every day in the training yards and was more than muscular enough to carry Chad's thin body. They would finish the race in plenty of time? well, Pen knew that there wouldn't be a lot of time left but he was certain enough remained to keep them out of skirts. The remainder of the course was level save for the last hill. Pen ran as fast as he dared across the open valley making as much time as he could, knowing he would need to rest more than once while climbing the steep slope ahead. His breath was ragged and forced as Chad's weight began to wear him down. Inwardly he cursed himself for being weak, unable to admit that he had already lasted longer than most twelve year olds could have in the same situation. A brief rest at the bottom of the hill was followed by a longer one at the one-quarter mark. Pen began to nervously watch the sun's position in the sky. They could still make it if he only rested twice more. He gazed up the hillside before him, choosing the spot he would force his exhausted body to reach before he rested again. There, in the shade of that boulder and again by that scrub oak tree near the rim. From there he could run if he had to and they would still make it in time. Shrugging his groaning friend into position Pen bulled his way up the slope, his eyes fixed on the spot he had chosen for his next break. One step, then another, forcing his body to move onward and upward. He swore he would not stop until he reached the boulder, making vows to every deity he had ever heard of in his determination. Finally the boulder neared, ten more steps, eight, six and he could rest. He never saw the man hiding behind the boulder. "He is here, Your Majesty," yelled one of the Royal Guardsmen, knelling over the unconscious form of his Prince. "Does he live?" demanded an officer, the first to reach the guardsman's side. "Aye, he does, though this wound on his forehead looks bad." King Perodin leapt a small boulder, sliding down the loose shale of the hillside to reach his son's side. "He lives, Your Majesty," announced the officer, eager to allay the fears of his monarch. "He has bled," added the guardsman. "He has taken a grievous wound." Perodin knelt over his son, hugging him and weeping unabashedly. At that point he was not a King, but a father grieving over an injured son. Shouts about the darkening hillside spread the word among the searchers that the Prince had been found. "What of young Stegewick?" demanded the voice of Duke Stegewick's Champion Sir Danis. "Has he been found?" "He is there," offered the guardsmen, pointing farther down the hillside. Sir Danis and several others ran to Chad's side. The King held his son until a litter arrived. Pen's mind swam back into focus, or so he would later describe his first awakening after the race. He didn't really awake, for he felt that he had been more dead than asleep. He failed to recognize his surroundings, or the servant girl that nodded in the chair by his bed. The bed was canopied in pale blue silk and his first movement sparked a groan of pain as a blaze of light blasted through his skull. This sound roused the servant, who sprang from her chair as if she were afire, fleeing from the room shouting that Pen had awakened. In minutes Perodin and his Wife Ophelia were at their son's side. "Oh Penrod," cried Ophelia, clasping one hand and stroking his hair. Perodin allowed the tears to run freely but the joy in his eyes demonstrated his relief at his son's consciousness. "Father, my head?" groaned Pen. "Hush there lad, don't try to talk. It will all be explained to you soon enough. Just lie back and relax, you're out of danger now." Pen had no choice but to obey, his eyes already drooping with fatigue. Two more days passed as Pen recovered, he slept for hours at a time, awakening only long enough to be spoon fed broth by overly nervous servants before sleeping again. His parents looked in on him often, but missed his brief bouts of wakefulness. Finally he felt alert enough to send for them, but only his father responded to his call. "Father, how is Chadwick?" was Pen first question. Perodin's wane smile faded away as he sat upon the cushioned chair by the bed. The pride he felt at his son's first concern being for his friend faded quickly under the onslaught of the news he had to share. "Pen, Chad is dead. His neck was broken in the attack." Pen went cold, the room spun about him at the shock of his loss. Chad couldn't be dead. He tried to speak, to argue with his father about the impossibility of the fact but Perodin motioned him to silence. "Chad's neck was broken when you fell. We assume you were carrying him, is that correct?" Pen nodded slightly in confirmation, trying vainly to remember what had happened. All he could remember was climbing the hill and then? "You were attacked on the hillside, a man with a sling was waiting for you. A steel bullet struck you in the head, likely you never saw it coming." Pen tried to shake his head, wincing instead at the renewal of pain. He was distantly aware of his father's physician Gotred entering the room. "He must have lain in wait for you most of the day, but knew you well enough to know you on sight and strike you down. Your head was cracked, young Chadwick likely died instantly when you fell. You slid down the hillside a ways, that's where we found you." The King's voice cracked with emotion. "My trackers found the man and his accomplices. We have dealt with them. Likely they were agents of Mulgrave, yet we have no proof of that." Perodin gazed at his son. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you, boy. You didn't turn your back on a friend, no matter the cost to yourself. To have carried Chad that far was an incredible act of bravery? you will make a fine King one day. I know that Belisle will be in good hands when I am gone?" Pen drank the smelly liquid from the bowl Gotred held to his lips out of reflex more than thirst, trying to see his father over the rim, waiting for him to say that Chad was well and not dead. Almost immediately the sedative began to take effect and he felt himself drifting back into unconsciousness. He barely heard his father's next words. "Everyone agrees that if you hadn't been attacked, you and Chad would have made it?" Gotred, the King's personal physician, decreed that young Pen should remain sedated for three more days, allowing him only short periods of wakefulness to feed him. On the day he was allowed to wake naturally he did so with no headache at all and a distant feeling of having been away. Pen awoke with no symptoms and immediately thought to arise from the soft feather bed. The servants would have not allow it, threatening to hold him down with the weight of their bodies if he did not remain abed, as the King himself had ordered. Eventually he gave in and allowed the servants to fluff his pillows and feed him a thicker version of the broth he had subsisted on since the attack. Shortly after his meal Pen asked for a chamber pot as his bladder felt near to bursting. To his surprise it was the male servants who left the room and a middle aged spinster that lifted the blankets aside. Pen's protest died in his throat when he first saw what awaited him under the blankets. That couldn't be him. The body that greeted him from beneath the silk sheets wore a satin nightgown and the toenails that protruded from beneath the hem of the gown were painted a deep crimson. What was worse were the twin mounds that rose from his chest, lifting the bodice of the gown and revealing the slightest hint of cleavage. This was the body of a woman, or at least a teenage girl. He began to cry. His father arrived as the last sobs heaved from his aching and now expanded chest. The needs of his bladder had been attended to, which had further increased his depression when the red satin panties he wore had been revealed. The only positive experience had been the sight of his manhood, smaller than he remembered but still in place. That had almost placated him save that his servants had insisted on calling him 'Princess' rather than 'Prince'. His father gently answered his demands for an explanation. "Had you been closer to the end of the race when the attack came, everything would have been fine. No one would say a word but because you hadn't yet climbed that last hill, I simply couldn't declare your trial complete," Perodin explained before launching into one of his famous mind-numbing treatise on the duties and expectations of the nobility. "But father, I've known a few boys who failed the Kor-za and none of them had breasts!" "That is true, Pen, but none of those boys were Royalty. More is expected of us and of you as the first Royal to ever suffer this. You are no longer a Prince, but for the next year you are a Princess and will have to look, act and dress appropriately." "But Breasts, father?" Perodin sighed. This was no easier for him to accept than it was for his son. "Most current ladies fashions require a certain amount of revealed cleavage and those born without are forced to augment themselves in some fashion. One of those methods is a concoction made by Gotred that causes male breasts to enlarge and genitalia to shrink. Every noble- born boy who has failed the Kor-za in the last forty years has used it. He assures me that the effects will reverse themselves as soon as you stop taking it." "But father, what of the peace talks? Not only does the Duke of the North not have an heir, now you don't either!" Couldn't I just be a boy until after the talks? You said yourself that we needed to appear strong or Mulgrave would be unsympathetic about ending the war!" "True, it will make the talks more difficult but we must not be seen as considering ourselves above the traditions of our people. I have discussed this with my advisors, Pen and there is simply no other way." Defeated, Pen fell back into the thick pillows. "Then at the least send me to the summer cottage, so I won't be seen by anyone." Perodin sighed. "I wish I could, son, but you'll have to remain here at the palace and continue your Royal duties as a princess. That means being seen and helping me with the peace talks." "How can I help with the peace talks? I've heard stories about Prince Sean. He's cruel and being sent here against his will. I know you wanted me to befriend him but now? now I'll just be a humiliation!" "True, he'll likely treat you badly and say awful, terrible things about you, but Pen I need you to be there, to show him that you can endure his petty words. Someday you and he will be Kings and you may one day meet on the battlefield. He may underestimate you at first as a boy in a dress but you have to use the opportunity of his stay to allow him to view the character beneath the clothes. He must know in his heart of hearts that you will be a strong King and a relentless enemy." Pen was silent for so long that his father almost thought him asleep. "Father, what is to be my name?" "The feminine version of your own name, Penelope." Their conversation went on for some time, Perodin often joining his son in his tears but in the end Pen knew that he must accept his fate. For the next year he would be a Princess. A fortnight slid slowly past, the days seemingly endless to the new Princess. Penelope was given a crash course in the latest fashions, taught to myriad uses of makeup, perfumes, walking in heels and given intricate knowledge of the purpose of dozens of different types of female garments he never before knew existed. He learned to add layer upon layer of silks and satins to stay warm where once he would have added a single layer of cotton or wool. All such lessons were barely acknowledge by the sulking princess, yet the worst humiliations of all were visited upon him each evening after dinner, when he was forced to endure dance lessons with the Minister of Dance. Master Tomei was a brilliant dancer, else he would not have his current job, but Penelope resisted mightily learning the female side of dances he barely knew the male steps to. Nightly he found himself held tightly in the embrace of Tomei as he was whirled about the ballroom constantly being urged to 'spin faster', or 'smile'. All the while his Ladies of Demeanor would chide him for not keeping his thighs together, or allowing the hem of his gown to ride up and expose too much leg. Each day Penelope's strength returned and each day he was forced to drink more of the bitter mixture that seemed daily to increase his bust size. He kept careful watch of his manhood; afraid that Gotred's foul magic was slowly robbing him of it. Although it was certainly smaller than it once was, he reluctantly had decided that it was no longer shrinking. Not so his hips, for they seemed to him to expand each time he looked at them and by the end of the second week he no longer needed the padding garments he once had to allow his dresses to fit him properly. In one small measure of rebellion, he began hiding some of the mixture, adding a portion of each day's dosage to an ornate silver teapot in his new rooms. The teapot was never used, so he felt it quite likely that he could store it there until he found a more permanent method of disposal. After the second week Penelope was required to present himself before the court each day and listen to his father preside over his kingdom. It was only during these terribly embarrassing moments as he watched his former friends laugh at him from the back of the chamber that he found himself longing to return to his new apartments; with the canopied bed, the thick carpets, the closets and rooms filled with dresses. Fresh flowers were to be found on every table and everywhere he looked awaited something made of silk or satin. The dressing alone was ridiculous; with a full hour necessary each morning simply to get out of bed and don enough clothing to break his fast. Often he was required to change his clothes several times throughout the day and quickly learned to dread the sight of his Chamberlain. Among the clothing he hated the most were the girdles he was ordered to wear, even though he was thinner of waist than any of those attending him. He initially scoffed at one item explained to him as a 'brassiere'. It wasn't long, however, before he came to appreciate the support these odd garments gave his enlarging breasts. The panties were the easiest to ignore as they were really more comfortable than his normal underwear and were hidden so deeply beneath the other garments that he often forgot about them completely. Nights were better, for the thin silken gowns he wore were light and airy and impeded his sleep not at all. He had his dreams to take care of that. Chad came often to his dreams, accusing Pen of taking his life. Pen often was forced to spend his nights fleeing from nameless men with slings, or from Chad's accusations. Most disturbing of all was that in all his dreams he was always Penelope and was trying to run in floor length gowns and impossibly high heels. It took another month before Penelope truly began to accept his new life. With but two weeks remaining before the arrival of Prince Sean and the delegation from Mulgrave he found himself able to ignore the pinch of his corset and actually began to enjoy dancing and even needlepoint. Not that he admitted it to anyone. He even found himself enjoying the company of his ladies in waiting and found that their gossip was quickly bringing him new insight into the daily happenings of the court. Even the daily dressing time had been reduced as he became more and more able to help with his own apparel. He was surprised by how much time he was able to save himself once he began to cooperate a little more. Penelope had no idea that the men of the court had begun referring to him as 'the Princess', or that many of them looked forward to catching glimpses of 'her' and her impressive cleavage. Having inherited his mother's features and luxurious long black hair, he daily became more feminine in manner and in looks. Soon it was secretly acknowledged in many hearts that Princess Penelope was the most beautiful woman at court. The endless days were behind Penelope and while not truly happy living as a girl, he slowly began to forget to hate everything and even occasionally let slip a smile. That is until the final preparations for the arrival of Prince Sean began. No expense was spared in the parade and tournament provided to celebrate the arrival of the Mulgrave delegation. Penelope knew that some of their people may go hungry during the coming winter, such was the expense of the preparations, but he also knew that their Kingdom must seem strong before Mulgrave if the talks were to be of any real advantage. And Prince Sean was everything Penelope had heard. Cruel, handsome, tall and strong, he sneered at everything he saw in Belisle and treated Penelope badly. His advisors mimicked his actions and a dozen duels were narrowly diverted among the Knights of both sides. Ten years older than Penelope, Prince Sean took a different woman to his bed nightly and spent his days laughing at Perodin's negotiating efforts and insulting Penelope. The cruel jests he developed at Penelope's expense were creative and visited upon the Princess right to his face. Initially Penelope had to fight the urge to take a sword to the Prince but after the tenth day of the Mulgravian's visit he had lost that drive and simply retired to his chambers to cry. Unwilling to allow his favorite victim any such solace Price Sean began to demand that Penelope visit with him each day, even forcing her to don riding habit and follow him on his hunts sitting side-saddle. Eventually the cruelness wore Penelope down and the insults and jibes began to bounce of his ears without penetrating. By the time the four- month anniversary of the attack on Penrod had passed, even Prince Sean had ceased to bother with his insults and began ignoring the princess though he still demanded Penelope's attendance of him each day. Another month crept by and the peace talks at last begun to turn serious. "You called for me, father?" Penelope asked as she entered her father's study. Her curtsey was deep and practiced yet she missed the approval in her father's eyes for she kept her gaze demurely upon the floor. Perodin took a moment to gaze upon his daughter before answering, taking in the beautiful young woman she had become. Her gown was of pale blue with soft silk violets visible from their place on the bodice of her slip. The dress hugged her tightly from the waist down and rarely had the King seen a more graceful or curvaceous woman. "Yes, Penelope my dear, I did indeed," Perodin stated loudly before ordering everyone to leave he and his 'daughter' alone. Once the doors closed behind the last attendant Perodin dropped the pretenses and guided the princess to a chair. "The talks begin to progress at last," he whispered, laughing a single quiet 'ha' to punctuate his words. "And you are doing magnificently!" Penelope glowed at his father's praise, even though he didn't understand exactly what he meant by it. "What am I doing?" "I'm not totally certain myself, yet Prince Sean no longer insults you, threatens you, or indeed seems to notice you at all. You have become as a piece of silken furniture to the Prince and the things you have told me that he mentioned in your presence has made all the difference in the negotiations." Penelope smiled. "I'm so glad, father. I want to be of help to you." "And so you are, please keep up the good work." "I'll try, father." Penelope paused before continuing. "Father, how much longer do you expect the peace talks to last? Another week? Two?" Perodin laughed more loudly. "More likely three more months." "Months? Oh father," Penelope said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Now, now Penelope, it is your duty," explained the King, offering his daughter a handkerchief from his sleeve. "But why so long?" "During the time the Prince has spent with us, no Mulgravian attacks have struck our borders. They fear what we would do to their prince, have no doubt. On the off chance that the peace talks may end up as unsuccessful in the end, I have decided to delay them as much as possible, at least until after the harvest. I don't have to remind you how many years it has been since we had the chance to keep an entire harvest for ourselves." Penelope nodded, numb at the thought of spending three more months with the hateful Sean. "And you just want me to keep being furniture?" "Yes, unless he begins to open up to you. Be his friend if he wants, I have seen to it that he has no others here and have sent away his closest confidants as often as I have found cause. Either remain in the background and repeat to me all he says to his advisors, or take any clear opportunity to become his friend and convince him to open up to you even more." "Yes, father." Perodin's mirth melted away. "How are you doing?" Penelope dropped her eyes. "Well enough I suppose. It's been difficult adjusting." "I can imagine. Have the? ah? changes leveled off?" Penelope blushed deeply. "My breasts have stopped growing, yes. I believe all the changes have happened that could happen." "I'm glad," announced Perodin, noticing the hesitancy of his daughter to speak of the physical changes. Gotred had explained in detail the temporary reduction in size of the genitals that would accompany the increase in bust size. "Gotred tells me that it'll be safe for you to stop taking so many of his potions a couple of months from now, by then you'll have built up enough of the magic inside of you that weekly doses will maintain what you have gained." "Thank you father." Another week slid past and it seemed to Penelope that Prince Sean may indeed have begun to view him as a friend. It had been a long, slow time awaiting the insults to become silence and now the silence was occasionally broken by neutral greetings or casual remarks. Penelope still spent much of her day sitting quietly in the corner of whatever room Prince Sean was in, but more and more often she found herself briefly included in the conversations. Penelope began to believe that Prince Sean was indeed in need of a friend and, despite the bustling activity of the palace, he was a very lonely young man. Even the stream of seemingly endless woman he enticed into his bed had dried up, as the Prince seemed too listless to bother with sex. Despite himself and the cruelty he had been shown by the Prince, Penelope realized she had begun to feel sorry for him. Penelope's thirteenth birthday came and went, forcing him to suffer a day of parties and feasts in his honor. The presents he received, once a source of joy to him, were all feminine in nature, with dresses, bolts of fabric and jewelry the most numerous. Prince Sean briefly returned to his original nature and gave Penelope an embarrassingly sheer gown, such as those that new brides wore for their husbands. The Prince explained that Penelope could one day use it for her wedding night. That evening the Prince began a ritual of nightly drinking of epic proportions. Prince Sean's drinking became near legend in the palace. The servants began to make bets as to where the Prince would pass out each night and where he would be found the next morning. Often he awoke covered in urine as the common folk of Belisle had lost relatives and friends in the war with Mulgrave. Each day the Prince sunk further into depression and the peace talks began to drag. Penelope knew he had to do something. One evening a few weeks after his birthday Penelope ordered a pair of guardsmen to follow the Prince and return him to his bedchamber once he passed out. This worked well for a few days, until the guardsmen moved too quickly one night and picked the Prince up before he was truly unconscious. Sean's dagger gave one guardsman a scar he would never be rid of and the Princess had to try something else when the Prince threatened to kill anyone following him about the palace. Penelope tried to speak with Sean through the day, trying to lead him to speak of what was causing his depression, but with no success. The only time Sean would speak with him openly was when he was drunk and so the Princess began searching for him late each night, rescuing the Prince from whatever hole or closet he had passed out in. Penelope would then make sure Sean was fully asleep and order someone to carry the Prince back to his room. There Penelope would try to rouse him just enough to speak with him. This plan was highly successful and Sean never remembered the conversations the next day. So it was that just over six months after the attack Penelope found himself once again attempting to undress a snoring Prince Sean. Afraid to ask a servant to do it because of Sean's temper and hidden knives, the princess took the task each night and assured that it was done properly, one of the first tasks of which was to search the Prince for hidden weapons. Then, once the Prince was stripped down to only his thin cotton underwear, would Penelope try to interrogate the Prince. Information came from the Prince in slow bits and needed to be pieced together over several days before Penelope felt sure enough to report the information to his father, but the facts he was learning were painting a very different picture of Mulgrave than had previously been known. Apparently Mulgrave was suffering worse from the war than was Belisle. A daring counter raid by Belisle forces had been destroyed behind enemy lines two years before, but now Penelope found out that the column of cavalry, once it realized it was cut off from retreat, had actually attacked the Mulgravian Palace and killed a number of high-ranking noblemen before being destroyed in turn. A blight had struck their crops three years in a row and starvation was rampant in the northern and western provinces. Belrovian barbarian tribes, ever a thorn in the side of both Mulgrave and Belisle, had intensified their attacks on Mulgrave, sensing their weakness. All of this information was received by Perodin with delight and he vowed that he would reward Penelope once the peace treaty was signed. Then came the fateful night following Penelope's six-month anniversary of living as a woman. That night Penelope was undressing the Prince as usual and noticed that Sean had an erection. This was not so unusual as the Prince had not been having flings with the servant girls in more than a month by this time. Penelope always felt uncomfortable when he noticed the erections, but tonight he seemed more than normally embarrassed by the bulge. Focusing his attention anywhere else, he removed the Prince's tunic and boots but was then forced to untie the laces of his breeches. Hands shaking Penelope worked at the knot of the leather tie, the side of one hand forced into solid contact with Sean's erection. This night, like he had many others, the Prince groaned slightly at the pressure as the blood flew to Penelope's face. She had almost become used to touching it this way and had justified it in her own mind that it wasn't the same as touching it for real because of the leather between her hand and his cock. That was the moment that she realized that, for the first time throughout the entire ordeal, she was thinking of herself as 'she'. She sat back on the edge of the Prince's bed and cried. It took a few moments to calm herself before she returned to the laces of Sean's breeches. Her mind fought with the idea of being a woman. Why shouldn't she feel like a woman? Look how she dressed, how she lived? But she was still a boy, that was what she had been born as. Hadn't she been happy as a boy? Yes, of course! Was she happy as a woman? She couldn't answer. The immediate idea was to answer a firm no, but she found that she couldn't. What of the changes that Gotred's potions had made to her? Where they permanent? Her father had said that at some point the potions would start coming weekly, but as of yet that had not happened. Could she return to being a male? Perhaps it was the tears in her eyes, but somehow her fingers got tangled together and the laces of Sean's breeches became knotted. She moved her weight about so that she could work on the knot with both hands, tears still occasionally running down her cheeks. The palm of one hand now firmly cupped the Prince's erection as she worked. She tried to ignore it but it was simply too apparent. Sean's groan of appreciation didn't help her any and she stopped working at the knot to make sure he wasn't waking. He wasn't and she began to believe that the knot wasn't going to come loose the way she was working. It was then that she realized that when she had stopped working on the knot she had not released her grip on the Prince's cock. She cried again, this time with both hands to her face and the sobs fairly shook the bed. Calling a servant in to finish the task, she hurried back to her room and cried herself to sleep. Above all else a Prince, or Princess, of Belisle was taught duty and so against her own will Penelope did not fail to bring the Prince back to his bedchamber each night and undressed him. Three days passed and she noticed with trepidation that the Prince had again worn the leather breeches with the front ties and again he was brought to bed with a raging erection. Her hands shaking, she removed his tunic and boots first, trying to avoid the bulge she knew awaited her below his waist. Her dreams of the past nights had been dominated with visions of her hand on that leather-covered bulge and she was sorely ashamed at herself for wanting to touch it again. The moment came when she had no choice, she must either untie the laces or call for a servant. The urge was too strong. The only sounds in the chamber were the snores of the Prince as her trembling hands reached for the leather ties. She was amazed to see her right hand ignore the ends of the ties and move straight to the bulge, pressing her palm firmly down upon it. She did work at the ties with her left hand but her eyes were riveted to her right as she traced the lines of the cock with her fingers. Sean was very well endowed. So distracted was she that she tugged on the wrong tie and again the ties knotted. Still sniffling she tried both hands on the knot, but soon gave up the cause as hopeless. She tried to use a pin from her hair to untie the knot but that was also to no avail. Determined to finish the job herself, she lowered her face to the ties and took the offending loop firmly in her teeth. Which placed her cheek directly on Sean's erection. She tensed as she realized what she had done, then shakily placed her palm back onto the cock as she worked the knot with her teeth. Twice Sean moaned softly, once pushing his hips upwards to meet the steady pressure of her hand. She had never seen him bulge so large. Finally, almost regretfully, she vanquished the knot and removed her hand from his bulge. She moved slowly to the foot of the bed and gripping the legs of the Prince's breeches with her fingers, lifting his legs as she tugged them off. She tugged too hard. The Prince's thin cotton underwear slid down with the breeches, leaving his cock standing straight and proud before her astonished gaze. Her eyes traveled up and down his strong, nude body but found herself constantly pulled back to the sight of his hard cock, jutting upwards in his lust. Many times she had seen the Prince shirtless, or wearing nothing but his underwear, but somehow his body look more beautiful to her now. She moved closer, darting glances at Sean's eyes to ensure he still slept. He did and snored to prove it. Hands shaking and tears flowing, Penelope reached out a finger and stroked the very tip of the Prince's cock. Seeing no visible reaction Penelope dared to place her entire hand around Sean's staff, gripping it lightly, still afraid to wake him. He murmured once but Penelope didn't notice. Her entire world had been reduced to the sight of her hand and the warm throbbing cock it held. She never knew just how long she stood there by the bed, holding the Prince's magnificent manhood in her small delicate hand. Finally her senses returned and she released the dick as if burned. Grabbing the waist of the Prince's underwear, she tried to pull them back into position. She knew that if he awoke with his underwear down he would ask questions of the servants. It didn't take her very long to figure out that the erection was not going to allow her to stretch the underwear back over it in its present condition. The Princess paced about the room in despair, hoping against hope that the powerful erection would ease. When that seemed not to be the case, she desperately gripped it once again and leaned it down until it touched the Prince's stomach. She then held it in place with one hand while she tugged the uncooperative underwear back into position. It didn't work very well, the head of the beast and at least three inches still protruded above the waistband, but it would have to do. She tucked the covers into place and retreated to her own room, once again crying herself to sleep and dreams of Prince Sean. If her nights were spent crying her days were becoming brighter. Each morning she awoke in a better mood, throwing herself whole-heartedly into the task of choosing her own clothing and makeup. Everyone began to notice her moods and even her mother commented on how happy she looked. Penelope maintained that she was happy having passed the half- way point of her trials but in truth she had come to love the feeling of silk and satin and the firm grip on her body of corset and bra. Silken hose became a necessity and panties were a gift from heaven. She found herself looking forward to her time with Sean each day and didn't even bother to feel guilty about it. The evenings came with great anticipation and on the occasional nights that Prince Sean failed to drink himself to excess filled her with a terrible sense of loss and frustration. So intense were these emotions that Penelope traveled to a nearby village to visit a witch-woman known to live there. The old hag charged an outrageous sum to teach Penelope how to make a potion that would guarantee that Prince Sean would pass out. This she began to daily add to his drink and, eventually, his food. On those nights when he did drink, which still outnumbered those that he did not, Penelope changed her routines and always removed the handsome Prince's pants as soon as possible. Once his underwear was revealed she would grip the band and tug them down and inspect the object of her fascination, her inner self torn by desires she did not truly understand. After her nightly inspection was complete, she would touch the cock, lightly at first and eventually tease it into full erection. With the cock standing up in all its glory, she would then take her time undressing him further, all the while admiring the erection she had 'made', touching and stroking it occasionally to keep it hard. A week or so of that and even bolder dreams began to intrude upon her slumber. Often she awoke with one hand firmly squeezing a breast while the other roamed about beneath the sheets. Gradually the clothing she chose became ever sexier, ever more daring. Her breasts were usually more visible now than covered and the hems of her dresses edged ever higher or contained deep slashes to show off her legs to full advantage. She even began to admit to herself that she was looking that way for Sean and hoped he would notice. He did and she knew that he did, but he said nothing and neither did Penelope. No longer able to stand the suspense of when Gotred would arrive to tell her he was reducing her dosage she went to see him. She explained that her father was concerned that a lessening of her femininity now might drive Prince Sean into another bout of abuse and so he would need to maintain the heavier dosages of the potion until the Prince left. Gotred was not cooperative at first, claiming that preparing the concoction was difficult for him due to the aches in his joints. Penelope asked that she be taught to make the brew. Then the ingredients could be placed in her chambers and she could make it for herself as needed. That way she could reduce her own dosages when the time came. Gotred was at heart a lazy man and eagerly gave in to Penelope's arguments. She had no intention of reducing the dosage so long as Prince Sean remained in the palace. In fact she had already gone back and consumed the entire amount of the brew that she had hidden over time. As had become her custom, Penelope began taking long naps in the afternoon or evening so as to be awake and alert when 'her' Prince needed her. One evening she nearly overslept and was startled by the tap on her door. Hurrying to the portal hoping in her half-asleep state that it was Sean come to visit, she flung the doors open without stopping to don a dressing robe first. The startled guard informed her that Prince Sean had just been left in his room, having passed out as usual. The man didn't even try to avoid staring at the womanly body almost visible beneath the nearly sheer gown. Penelope was both embarrassed and pleased at his reaction and her nipples fairly burst to erection beneath his gaze. She thanked him, taking her time in doing so and then slowly shut the door. Heart hammering, pulse racing, amazing feelings of arousal flushing her young body Penelope stripped the gown off as she prepared to summon her dressing servants. Loving the feelings that coursed through her body she dared to imagine that it had been Sean whom she had opened the door to. The bolt of pleasure that leapt through her body was stunning and her knees nearly buckled with the emotion. Determined to maintain that feeling for a little while longer she ignored the bell-rope and decided to dress herself. Moving to a wardrobe she removed a pair of brief silk panties and then the sheer camisole that matched it. Next she pulled a simple dress from a closet and went to do her duty. Once in Sean's chamber she assured that he was asleep and then performed her nightly inspection. Once she had the firm attention of the Prince's cock she thrilled herself by lifting her dress and showing off her sexy apparel. She was forced to sit in the floor and shudder through an orgasm before she could continue. Expecting another night of guilt and tears Penelope amazed herself by returning to her room and sleeping wonderfully the rest of the night. As well as each night that week. The next day her father called her to his chambers. He explained that the talks had all but halted and the day was quickly approaching when Prince Sean was due to return to Mulgrave. She asked if the talks couldn't be extended longer but her father explained that the King of Mulgrave had demanded that his son be returned to him before the onset of winter, which was approaching quickly. Penelope was ordered to do whatever she could to coerce the Prince into completing the treaty. Penelope was concerned about the peace talks, of course, but at that moment was far more worried about losing her man. She knew she would have to stop drugging him and try to convince him to complete the talks and thus avoid more war. Within her heart she ached at the thought of him leaving. Their daily talks had become wonderful and her nights alone with him enormously erotic. That night she took a daring step. After completing her inspection of his beautiful erection, she cried as she explained to his unconscious self that this would be their last night together, as she must stop placing the sleeping potion in his food. She squeezed his cock extra long that night, lying next to him on the large bed and stroking it lovingly. Twice it twitched and she thought that she had gone too far somehow he did not erupt. She prepared to leave but one last peek at her man's cock sent a thrill of determination through her. If this was the last time she was to have this opportunity, she would do something she had been thinking a lot about lately. Tugging his underwear back to his knees, she fondled Sean's cock back to full erection and then hesitatingly lowered her lips to the crown. Leaning back she looked at the lipstick she had left on his cockhead in wonder. Did I do that? She felt no guilt, not horror at her actions, only a longing to do it again and so she did and then again. Dare she do more? She dared, kissing it again but this time with her lips slightly open. The next one she dared touch her tongue to it as well. Then she opened her mouth and placed the head of his cock inside. The orgasm that rocked her body was the best she had ever known. She gripped the beautiful cock of her Prince in both hands, the head of the beast resting on her soft, sensitive tongue as her body throbbed and shook. Her passions lasted for an eternity and then, just as she began to calm herself, Sean's hips bucked upwards, driving half his length into her mouth before pouring his sperm into her throat. In surprise she pulled back only to watch in fascination as gobs of his passion continued to explode from the cock she still nestled lovingly in her hands. His sperm splashed her face and neck, some even making it through the surprised 'o' of her mouth to join the initial spurt already there. She swallowed from reflex, still staring at the cock in amazement. In his sleep Sean moaned a name as he came. Her name. When she realized what he had said, still gripping the cock of her man in both soft hands, she shuddered through another fantastic orgasm. The next night she vowed to be even more daring. Simply considering her idea kept her flushed and excited throughout all the next day. Surely she wouldn't go through with it? She asked herself. No, she would just prepare herself as if she would and then allow herself to back out at the last instant. The feelings were too intense not to. Then she would stop giving him the sleep potions. Just one more night. She prepared herself that evening as if preparing for her wedding night. She bathed much longer than usual and covered herself in powders and perfumes. When she left to care for her Prince she wore the sheer nightgown Sean himself and given her. Over the top she wore a simple dress that buttoned up the front and so was easy for her to manage alone. When all was ready, she went to see her man. Locking the door behind her Penelope tried hard to swallow her heart, which had somehow climbed up into her throat. She was petrified of the beautiful young man before her and yet could not wait to touch him. Removing his boots was difficult as she was nervous and in a hurry. The breeches slid off easily enough and she did not even attempt to leave the underwear on him. She stripped him completely this time, as she had never truly done before. Once he lay naked she quickly teased him to full arousal. She arranged the sheets and blankets as she wanted them, then moved to where she could stand in full view of the Prince had his drugged eyes been open. Once in place, she unbuttoned her dress with trembling hands and let it fall away. Gods, she felt wonderful. She felt wonderful and beautiful and desirable. Her nipples were stiff with arousal and she knew that to touch herself anywhere close to her sex would bring a fantastic orgasm but she did not, for there was more she wanted to do this night and feared losing her nerve if she brought herself to completion too soon. Dressed in her bridal finery, the sheer white lace accentuating all yet concealing nothing, she approached her Prince as he lay in the middle of the large bed on his back, naked, his enormous cock thrusting powerfully up into the air. She was frightened and yet had already dared more than she ever dreamed she would and knew with certainty that she was about to chance even more. Reaching the side of the bed she slid in beside her love and drew the covers up about them. She draped her arms about him, running her hands freely across his body. She placed his own hands on her breasts as well, moaning and pretending he was awake and participating in the act. When she could no longer resist, she slid beneath the covers and took him into her mouth, kissing and licking his erection as she longed to do. Penelope teased Sean until she thought his orgasm must be near. When she felt him ready to explode she licked firmly up his shaft and slid the head of his cock into her more than willing mouth. Gripping the base firmly in one hand as the other caressed the finely toned muscles of his chest, she slurped as much of the hard dick into her throat as she could. All day she practiced on vegetables whenever she could find the privacy but she still was not prepared to take all that the Prince had to give her. Contenting herself with what she could handle, she sucked deeply on cock. Sean groaned, his thighs tensing even as he bucked his hips forced another small fraction of his cock into her mouth. She squeezed tightly with her lips, maintaining a strong suction, praying for another taste of his delicious sperm. Seeing his hands clenching, she began to bob her head up and down his meat, sucking and pulling at his wonderful shaft as she did so. A few seconds of this attention and Sean again groaned her name as he pulsed his seed into her mouth. After licking him clean she returned her head above the blankets and pillowed herself on his strong shoulder. She lay with him for an hour or so, dozing and waking in complete contentment and bliss. Afraid to wait longer she then stroked him back to stiffness and again sucked his rod until he came. She cleaned him up and put her dress back on, returning to her room with his taste still on her tongue, once again crying herself to sleep because she knew this was the last time she dared be with him. The next night passed in the same manner, save she wore an outfit of deep crimson. This was to be the last night she would allow herself to give in. The next night she wore black. The next night she wore powder blue. The next night she didn't bother to make her vow. The day of his departure approached and she was frantic with her desire to keep him with her. The time they spent together was wonderful as he now treated her well. He referred to her as 'My Darling' and 'My lady' and never failed to treat her as a chivalrous man should so long as others were not about to hear. During the days he made her feel like a lady and at night he made her feel like a woman. She no longer knew which she preferred. On the eve of his last day in Belisle, she came naked to his bed. After she had sucked his cock and temporarily sated her needs in that regard, she climbed atop him and slid her sex against his as she shuddered through orgasm after orgasm. That night she stayed with him until almost dawn. In the end it was Prince Sean who delayed his departure by a week and then two, saying he couldn't return when they were so close to accomplishing their goal. However winter was fast approaching and the final details of the peace treaty were proving very difficult to complete. Any still Penelope shared his bed each night. The white camisole matched the silk of her stockings perfectly. The front was cut low, allowing her aching nipples freedom to be seen had Sean be awake to view them. This had to be the last time together, it had to be. Tonight she would say goodbye and tomorrow cease taking the potions that she now took several times a day. This was her farewell to womanhood, in a sense, for the spring would bring a new Kor-za and a return to her life as the Prince of Belisle. But tonight, at least, she was a princess and her love awaited her in their bed. She found her Prince asleep and swiftly undressed him, marveling that his cock already stood tense and prepared without and attention from her. Never had it looked larger, or more delicious and she couldn't wait to wrap her lips around it. But if this was to be her last time she wanted to make it last and so she took the time to give her Prince a long tongue bath, working her way around to those portions of his delightful body she loved best. She thought about her plans as she worked, wishing she were strong enough to move him around by herself. She would adore having him atop her with her legs spread wide and his manhood pressed against her. Lovingly she licked and sucked his cock, gnawing at it in her hunger. Sean whimpered as he came, but did not call out her name as he sometimes did. She slurped his cock until every drop had made its way into her mouth, then allowed herself a few moments of cuddling up to his strong, muscular body before returning to suck him back to full erection. She slid atop him, pulling the crotch of her panties aside as if she were really preparing to mount him and slid his hard dick up inside and along the crack of ass. She groaned softly at the pleasure, then forward to rest a nipple on his lips. A few times he had suckled her out of reflex, but this time he didn't. She ground against him for a while, growing closer and closer to orgasm. She knew she couldn't, knew she shouldn't, but her body was in control and she had no choice to be obey its demands. She eased his precious cock from out of her panties and placed it directly at the opening of her hole. She slid it against her for a moment, wondering at the amount of fluid and then, hating herself for her weakness, she slid the head of Sean's cock inside her. Stars exploded in Penelope's mind as she came, soaking her welcome invader in her juices. Without conscious thought she eased downward, glorifying in every inch that penetrated her body. She was amazed at the ease by which he impaled her and thankfully ground her clit against his body when she at last had him fully inside of her. Hanging her head in wonder at the feelings, squeezed tightly on Sean's cock, reveling in the feel of his hard meat throbbing deep inside her body. It was so magnificent, how could she ever pull it out? It was then that Sean's eyes popped open. "What the hell?" he demanded, staring at the place where they were joined. Penelope's eyes went wide in shock, knowing that she had likely prolonged the war for another generation. Instead of throwing her off immediately, Sean surprised Penelope by throwing her to the side and following her over. This left him on top, her below legs spread and fully impaled on his hard cock. Her internal muscles squeezed tightly, knowing she was about to lose this dick she so wanted inside of her. His eyes showing his puzzlement as he stared at their groins, Sean started to pull out of her, but then chose to force himself back in. Even more confused, he pulled his cock almost all the way out before driving it back in to the hilt once again. Still unsure, the Prince gave the Princess a few more experimental strokes, much to her delight as she lifted her hips to allow him total access. "What the Hell?" Sean demanded once again, pulling himself out and leaning back to give himself a better view. Penelope immediately began to cry and drew her legs from around his hips and crossed them to hide her shame. Roughly he grabbed her knees and forced them back to the bed, staring hard at the area between her legs. There, nestled beneath a trimmed triangle of black pubic hair, was a wet, sweet, vagina. Penelope continued to cry, her eyes covered by her hands as she wept. She felt so vulnerable with her legs being held apart by the man she loved; a man who likely hated her now and always would. The joy she experience when Sean slid his cock back into her pussy knew no bounds. Sean closed his eyes and just experienced the feel of her wet, warm pussy gripping his hard shaft. He opened them to see the woman who had haunted his dreams for months impaled upon his rock hard dick. Penelope wasn't a boy in a dress, she was a woman! Completely, totally and he was making love to her! Their eyes met as he began thrusting into the satin folds of her pussy. Her gasps joined his groans as they fucked, he driving his hard cock repeatedly into her cunt as she moved with him, meeting every stroke and ensuring he penetrated her fully on every stroke. Over and over he pounded into her, his movements becoming more desperate, more frantic as he reached the point of release. Calling her name aloud he exploded inside her as her screams of ecstasy drowned his out. Before the lasts spurts of cum were finished blasting onto the walls of her pussy, they were kissing and crying, each trying to tell the other of their love. The peace talks were completed within days. The two nations of Belisle and Mulgrave lived in peace for many, many years and eventually merged into one nation. A peace that began with the marriage of Sean and Penelope.