Orb and Prophecy Prophecy Part 10 of about 13
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Orb And Prophecy: Completion (Part 2 Of About 13) free porn video
(Note: asterisks around a section indicate the character's thoughts.)
In an unfamiliar city, in an unfamiliar body, I raced blindly through
streets and markets, past small homes, in and around small market crowds,
little noticing the stares that followed me. My only impulse was to hide,
to be safe, to find a place to escape this sudden nightmare. Navigating
unfamiliar territory had been my strength as a warrior, but nothing had
prepared me for this.
I felt acutely the height of my boots' heels as I ran, and though my feet
seemed competent in them, they complained with pain. I knew I was slowed
by them, but I kept running. The sun was lowering into angry red clouds.
I ran on. The city's buildings thinned and the crowds were behind me.
Exhaustion arose within me to compete with my sense of terror. I had to
stop before long. I came to a lone farmhouse, and whirled into its
partially hidden doorway, stood and panted, noting with horror the rise
and fall of the alien, full-breasted chest inside which my heart was
pounding. I'm panicked! I can't allow myself to panic. I'm a warrior,
damnit! I should know better.
Gradually my heartbeat and breathing slowed. Cautiously peeking around
the edge of the doorway, I searched for eyes aiming my direction. My
long, unfamiliar hair fell around my face, blocking my view, swinging
several inches into the open before I tucked it into the back of my
blouse. So much for staying hidden, I chastised myself. I waited,
panting, checking every few moments, finally satisfying myself I had not
been followed. I gave myself freedom to relax at last, slumping in the
doorway, little caring how exposed my legs were below my new skirt. I
can't allow myself to panic, I repeated to myself, forcing calm onto my
heart and lungs. My breathing slowly settled down.
My eyes caught a violet tinge, mixed with yellow, in the air just
surrounding me. *It's the same as the violet glow that came out in my
encounter with Moranna.. There must be magic in this. What is it? Where
did it come from? Moranna's yellow glow changed me, and this violet...
stuff--whatever it is--finally seemed to defend me. Am I safe after all?
But I don't even know where I am, or who I am.*
I was trying to think like the warrior chief, the strategist I had been,
in analysis mode now, as if in battle. *What was it I said there? "You
cannot attempt to harm me... none of you will attempt to harm me... You
will let me leave." Wherever it came from, I have to assume there was
magical power in that. If not, I'm as good as dead anyway--or worse, a
sex toy for Moranna's army. From the pit of my stomach, like bile, an
image arose of what I had almost become. I swallowed hard. "Bad as this
is, it could have been far worse. There may be the seed of a solution in
this violet stuff. First I must survive, though.*
I continued thinking through my position. First question: *am I currently
in danger? My magic--if that's what it was--probably helped, but not
completely; it wouldn't have had an effect on anyone who wasn't in that
room. I could be vulnerable to any man*--again I had to swallow hard--
*and even if Moranna can't harm me herself--how long would that last?--it
may yet be possible for her to send someone else after me.*
I surveyed the street again. I needed somewhere to hide; a room, or a
home, anyplace--as long as no one might stumble in on me. I considered
the door against which I had hidden myself. I laid my ear against it. My
long blonde hair got in my way once again; I pulled it back and listened
again. I remained still for several minutes, hearing nothing. I tried the
door; it was locked. "Why couldn't you have been open!" I spoke
incautiously; then with amazement I saw the violet glow flowing out of my
hand into the door handle, and heard the click of the lock being
released. "I do have magic!" I said to myself with wonder, aloud this
time, as I entered. "Can I use it to make this into a refuge?"
I toured the home, confirming that no one was there, and I felt a small
trace of confidence arising. The home was comfortable, unpretentious;
possibly a merchant's home. Two cloaks, a man's and a woman's, hung on a
hook near the door. A fireplace lay cold but ready across the main room.
There was no radio, television, or computer. *Is Moranna controlling
information here?* A strong wooden table with benches around it stood
near a wall to my left; beyond it was an open doorway into a kitchen. I
strode across the main room, noticing how my heels clicked on the bare
wood floor. They may have made the same sound when I had been running,
but if they had, in my panic I had not noticed.
At the back of the kitchen, on open shelves, I saw bread and fruit,
enough for two or three days. Back in the main room, I stepped around two
comfortable-looking chairs with a small table between them; and on the
table, a picture of a young couple. I turned to enter the bedroom. Just
inside the door , another door led into a bathroom. Seeing the facilities
there raised an image I quickly shoved aside, an unwelcome reminder of my
changed body. I was careful not to expose myself to the mirror above the
sink. It had been bad enough discovering my new self in Moranna's great
hall, and it was bad enough to be dressed as I was; I wasn't ready to
face my changed self again in a mirror.
The bedroom was furnished mostly in plain wood and simple cushions like
the rest of the house. I tested the mattress and found it satisfactory;
better by far, in fact, than the berth on which I had spent the last
several days sailing. *This place could work. I can hide here for a
while; I'll have time to regroup. Maybe I can put this violet magic to
work for me again.* On the wall there was another picture of the same
couple I had seen in the main room. I fixed my eyes on their image and
tested my magic by addressing the couple in it, speaking aloud as if they
were there:
"You have business and family or friends elsewhere. You do not desire to
return here for the next three days. You will find a place to host you,
and they will provide for your needs." I was pleased to see the magic
visibly responding, pouring from my hands, gathering into a living ball
and then flying out through the wall, presumably to wherever the couple
were at the moment. *It works! One more thing now.* I focused my
attention on the doors and windows, and spoke aloud again, "No person,
spirit, or animal will be able or even desire to enter this home while I
remain." I smiled my first female smile as I watched a violet haze fasten
upon the door and each window. In spite of my trauma, I was beginning to
appreciate these new abilities.
I was secure now, I was relieved to be over my panic, and I was also
exhausted. I didn't even bother--hardly even dared--to remove what little
clothing I had on as I lay down and let my new, strange body give in to a
deep sleep on the bed.
I awoke to bright sunlight and a pressure within me that I deeply wished
I did not have to address. There was no denying it, though; I had to
experience another new aspect of my femaleness now. At least I could do
it seated, so I wouldn't have to look. I stood at the doorway of the
bathroom and studied the position of the commode and sink, then closed my
eyes and groped my way to the seat. Somehow I knew to clean myself
afterward, and I did so, trying to shut out from my mind the alien
feelings there.
I returned to the bed, lay down, and closed my eyes, ignoring all
sensation as far as I was able. It was time to go back into battle
planning mode. *I'm a warrior caught in a trap. It's not the first time
that's ever happened. I have to view it that way if I'm going to have any
hope of getting out of this. What does a soldier do when he's caught? He
observes; he studies; he gathers all the information he can. What do I
know about my situation? What can I use of what I know?*
I reviewed the previous day's events in my mind. My men had followed the
island's army in their quick retreat across several miles of hills and
open fields until they had reached a point where, apparently, Moranna was
able or ready to make my move. That's when my men inexplicably turned
passive. How I had raged at my army as they stood there, still as
scarecrows, watching their enemies turn back toward them, setting their
weapons at their feet. I had been utterly confounded as they turned to
march into the central city in perfect discipline, as if obeying orders
from their own commander, ignoring my thundering, almost tearfully
frustrated commands to stand and fight. The worst had come when ten of my
own men formed a guard to disarm me, and brought me before Moranna.
I knew now, of course, that magic was responsible. It might even be that
it had a limit to its range, so that it could not be used against us
close to the coast. That was meaningful, possibly, but it was hardly
enough information. *Where did Moranna get this magic from? How could the
rest of the world not know of it? What weapon could be used against it?*
I recalled Moranna's mocking words in those horrifying moments on the
platform when she had unmanned me. She had certainly enjoyed toying with
me, watching my confusion and despair in discovering my new self. Then
she had taunted me with explanations of what she was doing. Apparently
she was intent not just on victory but also on total humiliation. I filed
that thought away as potentially useful information about my enemy's
character.
This queen had given me a new name, with such total effectiveness that I
could no longer think of any name for myself but Marisa--though
"Winterhorn"--that strange translation--still applied to my former self,
I knew. What else had she done? She had given me the skill to take care
of myself and to act as a woman. That explained how I was able to run in
high heels, and how I had known what to do in the bathroom. Images of
future, more overwhelmingly female bodily needs sought to invade my mind;
I evicted them with a shudder.
She had then given me the desire, I recalled, to wear only clothes that
men would enjoy. Perhaps that explained how I had been able to view my
bare legs with such equanimity. It did not seem to me, though, that I
would mind wearing trousers or a man's shirt. But Moranna had said this
part of the magic wouldn't be fully triggered right away, so it seemed
probable that my attitude would change in time, unless I had escaped her
trigger by getting away from her as I had. And what else had she said?
That I would desire men as Winterhorn had formerly appreciated women. To
desire a man--the thought was completely foreign, unfathomable. Would it
happen?
Moranna did her damage very effectively, but not, in the end, as
completely as she had intended; somehow, I had stopped her. What was
happening then? The violet glow was obviously a part of it. Why hadn't
Moranna dealt with that, to maintain her magical advantage? I replayed in
my mind the yellow explosion when I repelled Moranna's final spell. No
one but Moranna had reacted to it. Could others even see it? Apparently
it was not visible to everyone. My own violet magic also must be
invisible to some--maybe to everyone, even Moranna. That was an
interesting possibility. I took a look at the aura resting upon me. The
violet seemed weaker, more transparent. Was the magic fading? But the
yellow was unchanged. Anxiously, I scanned the window in the room, and
got up to look at the main door. I was relieved to see the violet glow
resting as strong on the door as it had been the day before.
I was hungry. It was another sensation to sort out among the many new
ones I was experiencing, but at least this one was familiar. I satisfied
myself with some bread and an apple.
I was safe, but I was stuck; powerless if I stayed, vulnerable if I left,
lacking key information to help my know what to do next. I paced the main
room, I looked out of windows, I explored the house. There was little to
discover. The main room revealed no secrets. The kitchen was ordinary:
the usual stove, sink, refrigerator, cupboards; nothing of great
interest. I wandered back into the bedroom. A tall wooden wardrobe stood
in a corner of the bedroom, the only door I had not yet opened.
I had been a warrior and an adventurer. I had explored many places,
risked much. But I had no clue of the incredible, life-altering danger
that was waiting for me in that wardrobe. Innocently, unknowingly, I
opened the doors, little suspecting what was lurking within: a full-
length mirror. I saw myself there, for the first time since Moranna had
completed her spells on me.
I was beautiful. And I loved it.
Later I identified the experience as the final triggering of Moranna's
spells. At the moment, though, I was enthralled. I could only gaze at the
beauty before me, and enjoy being the owner of it. My eyes sparkled blue.
My smile radiated feminine joy and light. My blonde hair swept over my
bountiful breasts in a graceful wave. My slender waist and long legs were
set to great advantage by my short silver skirt. *Marvelous!* was all I
could think--*marvelous--and mine!*
I displayed my delicious new body for myself in all its femininity: I
posed; I pouted; I puckered my full red lips; I danced before the mirror.
The beauty before my eyes brought with it no physical arousal, as it
would have a day earlier; simply delight in myself and my magnificence,
in the knowledge of my desirability. All thought of my current
entrapment, all dismay at my recent change, shimmered away as I reveled
in the absolute glory of being female and beautiful.
I looked long at myself, as I had often looked long at women before. I
tried to see myself as a man would see me. I knew I had all the beauty
any man could want, but I couldn't escape the newness of the sensation,
or in this case, the lack of it. Nothing stirred at my midsection; I
could not feel what a man feels when he gazes intently on a woman, as I
was doing now. *What do women think when they see their own beauty? What
am I supposed to be feeling now?*
I thought many women looked at themselves questioningly, critically: Am I
just right? Are there flaws? What do I need to fix? What is it that's
beyond fixing? I tried to adopt the same attitude. After several minutes,
I could only nod in appreciation of Moranna's work on me: I was perfect.
I was perfect with the clothes on that Moranna had provided me; I was
even more perfect with them off. Looking at myself unclothed, I realized
even more fully how differently I reacted now to what I was seeing. I
thought about the possibility of a man seeing me as I was, and my
reaction surprised me: I was not repulsed, but instead felt a stirring of
interest in unfamiliar parts of my body. *I'm not ready for this--I have
to put something on! Moranna's outfit was so perfect on me! But I wonder:
what I would look like in blue?*
To my surprise, a violet haze glittered in the wardrobe, and a new dress
appeared there, short like the one I had been wearing but blue, and with
elegant, sweeping long sleeves. "Oh, wow!" I squealed aloud in delight.
"Look what I can do!" That started me on a whole morning of play,
imagining and then creating skirts, dresses, shoes, shawls, hats,
lingerie, in color after color, with jewelry to complement it, modeling
for myself as if for an audience of hundreds--or an audience of one, as
long as he was strong and caring and loving and sexy. The click of high
heels on the wooden floor was pleasingly sexy rather than strange to me
now. At one point I took a deep, frowning look at my face, decided
something was missing, and conjured up a supply of cosmetics.
I could have done it all a different way, certainly: I could have just
magically changed whatever I was wearing into the next fashion of my
choice. It wasn't just the look that was driving me, though. There was
something about pulling a dress on, shaking my long hair free of it,
fastening it up, that seemed to fit me now even better than the clothes,
if that were possible. The same was true of the stockings, the shoes, the
jewelry and cosmetics. So I made it all to wear and to keep. Sexy,
glamorous, and elegant clothing overflowed the wardrobe. I tried it all
on; it all looked marvelous on me. The spell on me was complete.
I tested my magic on myself in other ways. I had not gained the ability
to change my basic appearance: my eyes were blue, my legs long and lithe,
my hair blonde, my breasts full, no matter what I tried. And really, that
was fine with me! But I could style my hair with just a thought. It was
long, loose, sensual at first. I tried curling it with my magic and found
the look to be cute, girly; it went well with some of my more young and
playful clothing creations. I swept it up on my head, crowned with a
tiara, feeling every bit the princess, and put on a long golden gown to
match it. I experimented with pulling my hair in a single tail behind me,
but decided it was too plain for my taste.
My fashion possibilities were endlessly enthralling; I was so caught up
in the spell upon me, and in my play, that I might never have quit. It
took the failure of my magic to bring me up short.
With a dazzling knee-length red dress on, I brought a matching pair of
sandals to mind. Unexpectedly, my violet aura sputtered and flickered
away to nothing. I tried again; no result. My first thought was petulant:
*But I must have shoes to match!* The violet hue was gone from about me;
nothing I did could bring it back. It was over.
The interruption of my magical play broke my mental enthrallment. I
looked around, saw all of the clothes and shoes and makeup, gasped once
in feminine joy over their beauty; then caught my breath in a whole new
horror, as I slowly became conscious of how I had been taken over. The
colors in the wardrobe became a kaleidoscope spinning before my eyes. My
stomach turned in the same dizzy rotation. My face grew hot. I had to sit
down; I feared for several moments that I would be sick.
Moranna's words echoed through my mind as I tried to fathom what had
happened to me: *I would love dressing to please men; I would prefer men
to women.* The mirror had finished it. I was regaining a bit of control
of myself now, but I knew I had turned a corner: femaleness was complete.
I was vaguely aware and surprised how okay that seemed to me, but I had a
new concern to overshadow that feeling. My magic was not working. My
magic was gone! In its absence, a pale yellowness marked the continued
working of Moranna's magic on me. Panic scrabbled up my throat yet again.
I felt suddenly very vulnerable. I ran to check the door. With great
relief I saw the violet glow still resting on it, and also on the
windows. *Then I'm still safe in here--the former magic is still active.
And I haven't lost the ability to see my magic. But I can't seem to make
any new magic. Could I have used it all up?*
Things looked bleak again. My protection spell on the house would end
after three days, and I had no idea whether I could renew it. Being stuck
there longer than three days would be torture anyway; I would have had to
leave regardless. Now, though, I would be venturing into enemy territory
with no weaponry. Could I recover my ammunition? With an ironic laugh I
considered the wardrobe I had supplied myself with. I would be well
equipped to hide, provided that I could find a crowd of incredibly sexy,
glamorous women to blend in with! But what could I do now? I might get my
magic back before I had to leave, or I might not; I would have to plan
for either possibility.
Apparently the magic I had already cast was not fading; if it was
enduring on the doors and windows, and in the clothing I had created,
then it was likely also enduring in the instruction I had given to
Moranna and her army not to harm me. It would likely also keep the home's
owners away for the full three days. But after that, I might have to
revert to old-fashioned survival skills out in the open. Doing so as a
woman would be considerably harder than as a man, especially in such
unfamiliar territory. Where would I go? And if I did escape to somewhere,
what then? I would face that question later. I spent the rest of the day
in a mix of despair, worry, attempting to strategize but feeling it was
fruitless.
My options were no clearer to my when I awoke the next morning. I had
dreamt up no new solutions, no useful new ideas. My magical aura showed
no signs of reappearing. I reflected on the previous day with a sick
sense that I had been had; that Moranna had done me over so effectively I
had lost any sense of balance I might have had. Her spell on me had
changed me inside and out. I could not fight its effects on my body, nor
on my mind. I could hardly bring myself to fume over what she had done to
me.
But I was stuck. I faced a complete day, if I so chose, of imprisonment
in a strange house with nothing to do, no activity to divert my darkening
mood. The one area in which I had a surplus of options was in my
clothing. I looked through my host couple's clothing for any plain outfit
I could find that would fit. I thought at first to try on the man's
clothing, but the thought was completely painful to me now, and his
clothes were too large anyway. The woman's clothing was about the right
size. I chose a loose brown blouse, some shorts, and flat shoes, wincing
at the plainness of it all as I checked myself out in the mirror. I
wondered if I could be faulted for stealing if I wore it when I left. I
would leave a fabulous selection of clothing behind, at least. My
conscience settled on that being okay.
*If I can't plan, at least I can train.* I devoted the day to discovering
the abilities and limits of my new female body. I had lost considerable
strength and size. It was some consolation that I had grown in agility
and had been given back some youth. I ran laps around the main room to
check my stamina. My long run to this house on my first day had not been
fueled only by my emotion, apparently: I really did have a good bit of
endurance. (*Moranna had probably intended that,* I thought bitterly,
*but for an entirely different purpose.*) My sense of balance seemed
excellent; I sensed grace in my movements. On the other hand, I was
disappointed but not surprised that my upper body strength was much
reduced.
I explored my new self in other ways also, and discovered what a woman's
physical longings could be like. It bothered me, the way images of my
best friends and comrades accompanied my experience--but I had to fight
to hold onto that sense of strangeness, otherwise it didn't seem so
wrong. In fact, being a woman wasn't so bad after all. If only I hadn't
gained such a formidable enemy in the process--if only I had a place to
be safe!--I might have been completely content with my young, glorious
new body.
Moranna loomed over my thoughts, though. I had just enough left of myself
to feel vaguely unsatisfied even with my contentment, knowing was her
work that had given it to me. She was evil, and frighteningly powerful I
had to fight her. I would have to discover a way. It would have to begin
with a retreat, though, since I was in no position to face her with
strength; I needed time to work out a plan, to recover or discover some
power. At the end of the day I concluded that I would have to rely on
quickness and agility to make my escape from the vicinity of the city. My
small size might allow me more places to hide than I would have had as a
man.
Tomorrow my protections on the house would fade. I needed sleep. If I had
had more knowledge of the land, and if I had not exhausted my body so
fully today, I might have considered making my departure at nightfall.
Instead, I determined to wake at the first graying of dawn (as a man I
had always been able to wake when I intended). And thus I stretched out
my weary muscles for the last time on the soft, warm, restful mattress,
and I slept.
Libbie
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