Tea Party 2/3 - Error Handling free porn video

Author's notes - Thank you to everyone who reviews the first part. This part is slightly longer and feels like more exposition was necessary. I've tried to sneak in transformation scenes to maintain momentum over the last two parts. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I was having a dream. At least, I was pretty sure I was. I was a man again, just like I was before all the insanity started. Before a spirit living in an ancient teapot gave my six year old niece Marcy a wish. Being freakin' six she wished that we were actual princesses instead of the ones we were pretending to be at the time (Don't judge, I was being a good uncle). Shortly after that my life started to suck. Hard. Anyway, I was dreaming I was a man again and I was sitting in one of my high school classrooms. Around me were a bunch of the male kids I use to go to school with. I couldn't tell who they were specifically and in reality I likely had likely forgotten all their names, but that's who I understood them to be. We were taking some kind of test which I had definitely not studied for when who should wander in, but little Marcy, dressed in a fairy costume complete with plastic wings and a magic wand. The teacher got up from behind his desk and walked towards Marcy as the feeling that something terrible was about to happen came over me. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you can't be in here," he said. Marcy pointed the cheap plastic wand at him and he stopped dead, placing a hand in front of him like a mime pretending to be stuck in an invisible box, except I could see indentations on his hand where it was pressed up against something solid. "You're a schoolgirl," Marcy said. The teacher instantly shrank by nearly a foot, his face softened and his dirty blond hair lengthened and his clothing changed. The girl jumped up against back of the invisible box and grabbed her uniform around her budding breasts and pleated skirt, shrieking. As the students at the desks shouted and overturned desks trying to get as far away from Marcy as possible she pointed the wand and one of the runners froze. "You're a ballerina." The guy winked out of existence and in his place was a svelte dancer in a full white tutu with a tight bun. As her body performed a pirouette completely of its own accord her brown eyes widened and her pink mouth dropped open in a mixture of disbelief and horror. I remained, rooted to my desk, my heart leapt into my throat as she turned the wand in my direction, closing one eye as if she was taking careful aim. Her lips curled back as if in slow motion and she spoke. "Unca Kev, you're a Princess!" I woke up suddenly to find that the nightmare was frighteningly real. The first thing I noticed was the sight of ruby red silk sheets covering a petite, girlish body. With my arms pinning the silk down the outlines of a pair of ample breasts were more than apparent in the tight fabric, complete with the tiny, perky and erect nipples. Morning high beams. I whipped the sheets off the bed and was greeted by the rosy skin of a naked girl. A pair of long slender legs kicked the last of the sheets off and pressed together sensually to cover up the smoothness between them. Curved hips sloped into a belly coated with an ultra-thin layer of fat that gave it a warm softness and a cute inwardly slanting bellybutton. The fat ebbed at the ribs and then ballooned into two of the largest, softest breasts I had ever seen in the flesh. Very near to looking ridiculous on the small frame their sumptuous creamy flesh bobbed as I moved, making the perfect, peachy nipples dance. "Big fucking boobs," I groaned. I slid one tiny hand over the right breast, still shocked that not only could I feel the breast in my hand, but I could feel my fingers sinking into the softness of the fat. A trembling sigh of dismay filled me as I ran a second hand over my slim belly, down into the crevice between my slight thighs, gritting my teeth as a strange warmth bubbled up in me, conflicting with the horrible confirmation that what had happened the day before was real. "Giiiiirrrllllllll!" I wailed quietly. I looked once more at the pink nipple protruding from between my fingers as it hardened in the midst of the warm bubble. "At ease, ladies," I whispered sarcastically with my smooth feminine voice. Reaching up I ran my painted nails through the thick dark auburn hair that was sprayed out over the bed, remembering what had happened the day before. Not only had I been poofed into petite seventeen year old girl named Chloe with comically big boobs, but to the people of this island I was also damned royalty. After they had abducted me from my apartment the Matron and her giant of a servant had forced me onto a private jet that had flown for four hours, to where I had no idea. We had gone from an airstrip to a small yacht that had brought us to what I had to assume was the Kingdom of Bereglast. From the ocean, in the night, all that I could make out were the street lanterns of the large island, but as we got closer I could make out the palace that dominated the landscape. With uncountable parapets and massive halls it looked like something out of a fairy tale... Which I guess was apropos. Banners flapped in the stiff breeze from the ocean and lights, carried by what I could only assume where soldiers or guards bobbed along the ramparts that formed a wall separating the palace from what looked like a port-city covering the rest of the island. Still more lights ran off away from the city and palace, strung from bridges that ran off towards other islands in the archipelago. "Welcome home, Princess," the Matron had said. We landed at a dock that seemed to service only the palace where we were met by about half a dozen guards. The giant picked me up in my bustle dress and carried me up a seemingly never ending series of stone steps towards the palace. The jerking of each step caused my boobs to bounce against his back and I saw one of the soldiers flanking us snicker when he thought no one was looking. We reached what I took to be a service entrance to the palace and the Matron ordered me put down. I stood, looking up at the ring of guards in their weird Swiss Guard style uniforms. Feeling very tiny and exposed I adjusted my skirt timidly as the Matron loomed over me. "Please," I begged in my high, girlish voice. "There's been a big mistake. I'm not a princess! I'm not the girl you want. It's all a big mistake! I'm not even really a girl!" She reached out and undid a button on my bodice. It popped open, showing a glimpse of cleavage. I moved a hand to try to cover it from the sideways glance of the guards, but she knocked it away. Her hand plunged into the hole and slipped out holding the slim phone that I had managed to conceal when we had boarded the plane. The phone disappeared into her waist belt and my heart sank with the loss of my last lifeline to home. The Matron waved. "Take the Princess to her chambers," she ordered. "Make certain she stays there this time!" Despair overtook me and I noticed the hilt of a sword poking out of the waistbelt of one of the guards surrounding me. I lunged for it in a swirl of silk and a bounce of cleavage and pulled the blade free. Poof! My hand erupted into a cloud of smoke and when it cleared I found myself holding a lady's parasol, small, red and heavy with lace. I dropped it as if I was holding a snake, suddenly terribly aware of how screwed I really was. I couldn't even hold a weapon without it turning into something ridiculously feminine. Honestly, Marcy couldn't have liked Xena or Wonder Woman? I was hoisted up again and marched through the dark corridors of the palace covered with painted and lined with statues whose details I couldn't make out in the gloom. Finally we came to a pair of large, square double doors. The huge man pushed them open with almost no effort and carried me inside while the guards remained outside. Unfortunately I couldn't see anything save for a bank of windows whose closed curtains let in slivers of moonlight. I was placed, almost delicately, on a soft feather bed. My dress tangled up with my heeled boots and pulled down on the bodice, mashing my chest into the bodice. I looked up at the giant with trembling lips, very conscious of my tiny proportions. "Please," I whimpered. "I'm not a girl. I'm not a girl!" The giant snorted as he walked off. "I'm not a girl!" I shouted, rising from the bed and pulling at the bodice of my dress. The buttons came loose and revealed the light corset that was holding the boobs in place, rippling gently in its cups. I tore off the tiny hat, pulled out all the pins that held my hair in place and unhooked all of the fasteners that kept the bustle in place and tossed the dress on the floor. Next came the corset and stockings and shoes. I stood naked with my white skin and perfect tiny figure in the darkness of the room. It was perfectly clear that I was definitely a girl. I fell backward into the soft bed, completely spent. I wanted to think of a way to get out of this place, but I was overwhelmed. I had gotten maybe three hours of sleep throughout the night and maybe things would not look so hopeless. I fumbled with the covers of the bed and slipped in between the sheets. I pulled one of the large pillows close, nuzzling into its soft mass for a little bit of comfort. That was the last thing I remembered before the start of the dream. I wiggled down into soft feather mattress with its slippery silk sheets, brushing some of the luxurious auburn hair behind my ear and running the hand from my breast along my lean belly and over my hairless thigh. I once again felt the formation of the warm bubble inside of me, swelling as I ran the hand closer to the space between my supple legs. As if waiting for the exact worst moment the curtains were cast open and a bright stream of sunlight caught me full in the face. I froze in panic and pulled the red sheets back up over my fair skin. "Good morning, Your Highness," a female voice called from the bank of windows. In the glare from the sun I was able to make out a slender blonde woman in her mid to late twenties, wearing a simple dress, tying back the red curtains with gold coloured cords. She repeated the process along the bank of floor to ceiling windows and then wheeled over a cart brimming with vibrant red roses. She transferred a dozen into one of the vases between the windows. "We're all very glad you've returned," she continued. "And you are?" I sat up under the sheets, the weight of my boobs instantly becoming noticeable. The woman scowled, more hurt than confused. "The Matron said your memory was a little fuzzy, Your Highness. Did the Mainland have that much of an effect on you? I'm Anne. I've been your lady-in-waiting since you were thirteen." "My lady-in..." I put a hand to my temple. "Really?" "Yes, Princess." I bristled. The last thing I needed was another reminder of my current stature. "Can you stop calling me that? At least call me Ke- Chloe?" Anne scowled again. "I would, Your Highness, but the Matron says we are to be more observant of the rules of decorum." She retrieved more roses from the cart and arranged them in the vase between the second and third window bays. In the light of day I could tell that the bed I was lying in was a canopy bed with red drapes hanging along the edges. The curtains were the same colour. That accursed red with gold trim that was the hallmark of the spirit that had done this to me. I looked around at the bed chamber. The whole room was nearly the same size as my apartment! The panelled walls were decorated with several painted landscapes along with wall sconces mocked up to look like antique lanterns. A large red rug dominated the floor. Stitched in gold upon it was the symbol of the teapot. "She requests that you be dressed and brought down to breakfast," Anne said, approaching the edge of the bed. "By ten o'clock, if possible." I looked around for a clock. "Which means?" "You must get ready. Now." Anne grasped the sheets and, before I could object, she had ripped them out of my hands, baring my big boobs. I quickly crossed my forearm over them and clutched at the sheets, desperate to cover my nymphly little figure. "Stop it!" I shouted with my high voice. "I'm not going out there!" Anne caught me by the arm and pulled me easily from the bed. I clamped a hand over my (shudder) womanhood and stood there, unable to move without putting some part of my body on display. With a sigh of impatience Anne grasped the arm that covered my chest and pulled me out the door of the bedroom, boobs bouncing clumsily as I struggled against her to no avail. She had almost fifteen centimeters and maybe ten kilos on me. Stupid princess body! "I've been your Lady-in-waiting since you were thirteen! There is no need to be embarrassed!" she repeated. "Come! The handmaids are holding your bath!" She dragged me out of the bedroom and into one full of furniture arranged around a fireplace. I tried to hook my foot around the leg of an antique sofa, but slipped off instantly. Beyond this sitting room was a hallway covered in tiles and full of steam. I felt my thick lustrous hair wilt into a frizzy mess as we approached a circular tub sunk into the tiled floor. A trio of young women dressed in long maid uniforms surrounded the steaming pool, their eyes became as wide as saucers at the sight of a naked girl being dragged towards them. "Noooo!" I cried as Anne started pushing me into the tub. If it had been a traditional tub I might have been able to stop at the edge, but I was helpless to resist being tossed into the pool. The hot water engulfed me and Anne pushed my head under. As my rounded rump found the bottom of the pool I surfaced, coughing and spluttering, pushing the seemingly endless hair out of my eyes. When I was able to see once again a pair of large fleshy orbs greeted me, bobbing on the surface of the water. "OH GOD, THEY FLOAT!" I wailed. The maids looked to Anne whose scowl deepened. "If we don't get you down to breakfast the Matron will have us all removed! Bring the oils." Two of the maids knelt beside the tub while the other retrieved a slender decanter of violet liquid from the shelves on the side of the room. She removed the glass stopper and instantly the smell of sweet syrup and berries filled my nostrils. She poured a thin stream of the liquid into the water and bubbles frothed over the bath. I pulled away as one of the maids grabbed for my arm only to be captured by the other. She began rubbing a soapy sponge over my slender arm. The one who had dropped the foaming oil into the water grasped one off my kicking feet and did the same. By the time Anne moved around behind me and poured more of the oil over my head, covering my hair in bubbles I was done. I sat there, defeated, in my bubble bath covered in suds with my big soapy boobs floating in my face. "Stand," Anne commanded. I covered the embarrassingly female portions of my sopping wet skin and did as she asked, the water coming up to my mid-thigh even when I was fully standing. The maids pulled my arms away and attacked my lean belly with the sponges, running them up and over my slippery breasts. "Oh," the brief feminine gasp escaped my lips as I suddenly discovered something about the bath that wasn't totally horrible. I bit my lip and hoped none of them would be able to tell a full on blush of arousal from redness caused by the hot water. I had to bite even harder as one ran a sponge between my buttocks. "I'm sorry, Princess," I heard Anne say. Before I knew what was happening she had slid her hand between my slick thighs and in between the hairless lips therein. Her finger flexed and I felt it pressing against me. My knees nearly buckled. The bathroom swum as the heady smell of the oils hit me like a ton of bricks. What Tess and I had done a day earlier had been more than enough, but for the first time I felt that there was something... even more that I could get to. And then the realization of what that would entail caused the feeling to become not-so-pleasant. Anne released me and nodded to one of the maids who in turn left the room in a hurry. I oozed back completely under the warm water, letting my hair float around me as I let out a silent scream of frustration in a bubble. Anne took my hand and helped me out of the bath, wrapping a soft towel around me. I inhaled sharply, thinking that the oil had left me smelling like a strawberry pastry. "Take her into the dressing chamber," Anne directed the maids. "I'll be there in a moment." I was hurried out of the bath chamber, with the towel wrapped around me in a death grip. One of the guards came upon the group of us as we exited the room, his eyes widening at the sight of my naked legs until one of the maids attacked him, driving him off. "We're supposed to keep a closer watch on her!" he protested. "That doesn't excuse hiding outside the bath chamber!" she replied. I was taken into an adjoining room with a large vanity and a high-seated chair in front. The towel was pulled away from my trembling fingers and I was placed, naked, in front of the mirror where I was once again faced with the girlish body I had been trapped in. Her big green eyes were smudged with the remnants of a violet eyeshadow that was returning to place in thin wisps of smoke, the same with the dark lipstick that was painted on her plush, trembling lips. The tangled auburn hair fell over her elegant neck and shoulders. She covered her big, perfect breasts with her tiny hands, creamy flesh bursting around her red and gold painted nails. Her cheeks blushed in a rosy hue of arousal. "This is not happening," I managed in a feminine whisper. For a brief moment I was glad to be getting dressed without being engulfed in a puff of smoke, but then Anne came up behind me and slipped a nude coloured piece of fabric over my head. She pulled on a pair of straps and I was forced to inhale as the garment became snug. It wasn't extremely tight like I had seen in pictures of women in corsets, but it hugged my curvy frame without a hair's breadth of space in between. At the top of it, around my ribs was a stiff piece of fabric that split in two, forming two smaller platforms that cupped the underside of my breasts, pushing them up into two perfect round orbs while covering a minimal amount of skin. The corset, made of some kind of spandex, hugged my ribs, making my naked bosom heave as I breathed. "I am not wearing this!" I yelled as Anne slipped a pair of lacy white panties over my feet. "Princess, please!" Anne fought the panties up my legs and over my smooth loins. The remaining maid pinned my arms down to prevent me from ripping off the corset. "I have to get you down to breakfast!" I pulled a still-slick arm away from the maid, using the leverage to wrench free the other. Leap frogging over Anne I clamped a hand over my boobs and ran as quickly as I was able out of the dressing room, intent on locking myself up in the bedroom. I crashed through the door and placed a foot over the threshold. POOOFFF! "Son of a bi-!" my screamed was cut off by a series of coughing fits as crimson smoke burst from underneath my feet, licking up my smooth skin, slowly dissipating into a view of a luxurious red dress. The dress was nearly identical to the outfit I had placed in for the journey to Bereglast. The buttons of tight fitting red bodice had been replaced with a cascade of white ruffles. Whereas the original showed no skin now a square neckline was accented by lacy frills, showing the enhancements made by the weird corset. The full skirt hung over relatively flat heels, held out by a light crinoline cage and gathered into a hefty bustle in the back. Puffed shoulders were cuffed closely to my thin upper arms with gold bands. My thick hair had instantly dried and burst into bouncy sausage curls, tied in the back with a large red bow. Anne caught up with me, calm, as if nothing had happened at all. "Was that so difficult, Princess? Now, will you please come down to breakfast?" As if on cue a weak feeling in my stomach reminded me that I hadn't had a bite to eat since that accursed tea party. I fought back the urge to shout an obscenity and bushed a stray curl behind my ear, hearing the tinkling of earrings as I did. "Very well," I moaned. Anne led me out of the bed chambers and through the panelled corridors of the palace. Maybe it was because I was still switched on from the bath, but I began to notice the way Anne's dress swept over her legs and the way her bodice clung to her small breasts. With her blond hair pulled back into a tight braid she reminded me a little of Tess. With the thought of Tess a warm feeling wormed its way under my petticoat. I swallowed and begged the feeling to go away. Something told me that girl/girl didn't play as well in this place as it did back in my apartment. Portraits of what I assumed were now my ancestors stared at us as we walked along with several statues and busts positioned between the massive banks of windows. The sheer enormity of the palace sank in as we crossed first one wing and then another. Though I was thankful for the relatively flat shoes they did force me to grapple with exactly how small I had become. Barely coming up to Anne's shoulders I started feeling like I was Anne's little sister. This point came painfully home when we reached a spiral staircase and I had to watch Anne lift the hems of her skirts to descend and then copy her motions, picking my way down the steps awkwardly. The jostling caused my boobs to jiggle within their enclosure, shifting to the point where I had to wiggle in the corset, trying to right them. Who the hell's idea was it to make clothing like this? Anne opened a heavy door onto a long dining room complete with an almost comically long old mahogany table with matching high-backed chairs, at least twenty in all. Sitting alone at the far end, calmly perusing a newspaper was the same grey-bunned, cotton-frocked old woman who had taken me from my apartment the night before. I fought back the urge to start shouting at her when I saw the huge man who had carried me to the bed chamber the night before shoulder his way through a French door that led out onto a large terrace. He was still imposing in the daylight. I was led by Anne to the chair next to the Matron who closed up the newspaper. "You may leave us, Anne," she said. "And have the boy bring in the tea." My Lady-in-waiting curtsied and walked back the way we had come, leaving me alone with the same two who had freaking kidnapped me the night before. I stood awkwardly in my feminine dress for a moment before the giant pulled out the chair. It took another moment to realize he was doing this for me. I bristled, lifted the skirt and sat down, feet barely touching the floor as he pushed the chair back with me in it. The Matron stared at me with her steely eyes for a moment, the way my Mom use to in an attempt to sniff out a lie. "Good morning, Chloe," she started. "Have you decided to tell us where your sister is?" I nervously placed my hands in my lap. For whatever reason the wish had made Marcy and I sisters, at least in the mind of the people the wish had created. "Your parents are absolutely livid," she continued. "She's safe," I managed, while at the same time curious about the parents that I suddenly possessed. "Safe as in her own mother's arms." That was definitely true. The Matron glared at me for a moment then sighed. "I've offered a large reward for her safe return on the Mainland. Already, my people have had reports of her whereabouts. She will be back with us within a fortnight." My heart sank. The idea on Marcy being taken from my sister and her husband because of the wish was unnerving. A man in a butler's uniform emerged from the side door and approached carry a tray with a pair of cups, a tray of pastries and a teapot that looked disturbingly like the one that housed the spirit that had transformed me into a petite busty girl. He laid out the cups and saucers, the tray of pastries and poured a dark tea into the cups in front of the two of us. "Lumps, my Lady?" he asked. I licked my lips. I was dying for a cup of anything that contained caffeine. "No." "No what?" The Matron hissed. "No, thank you," I said. I reached for the cup in front of me, my arm crossing in front of me pushed my boob up and I quickly put it back at my side. They got in the way of everything! At my attempt to move the cup and saucer to my side the Matron slapped me on the wrist. "The cup stays in front of you!" I grimaced and tolerated my upper arm brushing over the side of my breast as well as the tickling of my nipple as I misjudged the distance and my wrist collided with my chest. I brought the china cup to my lips and took a dainty sip. "Regardless of your sister, we have very limited time to prepare for your birthday," she said. "The preparations for your wedding will begin as soon as your engagement is announced." "Wedding?!" My mouth came away from the teacup and a large drop of warm liquid landed on my chest, following the gentle slope of my right breast down into my dress. The Matron scoffed and grabbed a napkin which she shoved down into my cleavage. I stared, wide eyed, down at the tuft of cloth sticking out of the furrow between my boobs, carefully trying to avoid touching them as I picked it out. "Leave it!" she snapped. "I am going to make a proper lady out of you if it kills me. Honestly. I don't know what has gotten into you." "This napkin," I muttered, though I doubted she heard me. In the background I could make out one of the guards elbowing another and making a sneezing noise that devolved into raspberries. "You have a responsibility. Do you know how precious this kingdom is? How important your heritage is? You must provide this kingdom with an heir. The idea that I could have raised a girl who had become so self- centred that she would put her own wants above those of her people, and that you could drag your sister into it!" Her face became increasingly distraught as she spoke. "Well, when we find you a suitable gentleman to wed and put an heir in you that will be the end of all of this." "That might very well kill both of us," I said as I reached for one of the pastries, squeezing the life out of the napkin sticking out from my bodice. A single bite later and it was gone. "And you will act like a lady! You may be a beautiful young woman, but no gentleman wants a shrew. Now, we will review your education since you seem to have forgotten so much of it. We will begin with etiquette." It was two hours later, nearly lunch time, and I was still sitting at the breakfast table staring vacantly at the cup and saucer laid before me. I was sitting nearly sideways in the big chair, my knees pressed together in a way that made me painfully aware of the nothingness between my legs. My back was arched, thrusting my big chest out. A heavy book had been perched on my head, matting down my puffed hair. I slowly reached out, arm softly jostling against my breast making the soft silk of the dress rub sensually over my nipple and carefully picked up the saucer, holding it close, just under my chest. Grasping the cup handle with three fingers I lifted it to my lips. "Keep your eyes to the cup," the Matron sighed in frustration. "A lady is demure. She does not stare over top of her cup." My hand shook as I returned the cup to the saucer. My small body had absorbed so much caffeine that it was getting jittery and the corrections were not making things any better. "Sit still!" A swift motion and a shot of pain shot up my rump as the Matron struck it through the side of the chair with a riding crop. I yelped and jerked in my chair barely maintaining my grip on the saucer as the book fell to the floor. There was the uncomfortable feeling of the breasts jiggling out of position in the corset. I placed the saucer back on the table and folded my hand daintily in my lap, biting my lip at the sensation of pressure against my loins mingling with the pain in my backside. "Ladies do not bite their lips. It's lewd," the Matron grumbled as the large man retrieved the book and balanced it gently on my head. "Have you forgotten an entire lifetime of manners?" She sighed. "Again." Inhaling deeply I felt my right breast settle back into its place as I grasped the saucer again, sipping the cold tea with my eyes cast down. Managing to steady my hands I returned the cup without incident. My rump burned with pain and my face burned with rage as I spoke the words that went with the next part of the exercise. "I..." The Matron tapped the crop on the table. "I am a princess of Bereglast. I will be-" I swallowed. "I will be modest, graceful and... sweet." My male mind roiled as I was forced to run through the list, barely able to maintain the sanity necessary to speak. The Matron threw up her hands. "And it only took you two hours. Now, try again without hesitation. I will make arrangements with you dance instructor. Perhaps your feet remember a little more than your brain." With her back turned I took the opportunity to stand up. Glancing to side to side to make certain no one was looking I flipped her off behind her back while rubbing my round bottom. "Dancing? I think you broke my as-" POOOOOOFFFFF! I stared at my nearly naked chest. The neckline of the new ball gown came to just over my tiny nipples, the bodice supporting the fleshy soft globes and pressing them together. A golden cloth bow was attached to the neckline in between them, contrasting with the standard garnet-red of the rest of the dress. The sensation of the breasts rubbing gently together was so distracting that I hadn't been able to take my eyes off them since the gown had appeared on me in the dining hall. My lustrous hair was still done up in the thick sausage curls, tied behind my head with the same red bow. My hands were covered by lacy white gloves with frilly wrists. Scores of petticoats billowed out around me, pulling down on the bodice with the weight of their heavy satin making it feel like the whole thing could slip from my body at any moment. Underneath them I was wearing white knee socks and awkwardly high heels capped with golden bows identical to the one that currently guarded my rosy breasts. I stood between the Matron and her giant servant in the ballroom, the pouty frown of a huffy teenage girl frozen on my face. The literal pain in my butt had vanished, replaced with the figurative one of being stuck in the red taffeta monstrosity once again. As with everything else in the palace the ballroom was huge. Had we wanted to the three of us could have played floor hockey on it with room left over. Of course, I wasn't really dressed for it. Currently it was empty but there were strange slots in the floor, spaced about the right distance apart for table legs to be anchored in them. A huge bank or French doors opened up onto the same terrace that serviced the dining room with the other three walls being lined with stylized dumbwaiters camouflaged into columns and small doors for staff. A man emerged from one of these door, hurriedly buttoning on a stylish waistcoat with one hand as he juggled what looked like a speaker with the other. He attempted to compensate for his balding head with a thin moustache that stuck out like he had waxed it with superglue. He bowed to us, placing the speaker on the floor where it stuck out against the decor of the ballroom like a sore thumb. "I apologize for making you wait, Matron. I was unaware that the lovely rose of Bereglast had been returned to us. Princess Chloe, you are the very flower of femininity, as always." I pursed my lips angrily as he stayed inclined. "Offer the gentlemen your hand," the Matron hissed. I cautiously held out my slender right hand which he grabbed zealously and kissed. Grimacing I took the hand back and wiped it on the smooth silk of my skirt. "The Princess has had herself quite an adventure on the Mainland and entirely lost her mind," the Matron said. "She may need refreshing before her birthday." "Lady Van der Hoff has always been my best pupil," the Instructor said. "I'm sure she is as wonderful a dancer as ever. My apologies, but I had no time to arrange proper musicians. I hope recordings are acceptable." As he pressed at the speaker a slow waltz started playing throughout the ballroom. "This waltz played at My Lady's last birthday. She moved beautifully to it." The Instructor bowed once more and extended a hand towards me. I scowled and hesitantly reached for the hand. The Instructor's frown caused me to stop. "Curtsy to your partner, Princess." Curtsy? Oh crap. I couldn't imagine a more feminine gesture. I knew what it looked like, but I had no idea how to actually do it. Cautiously I bent both my knees and strained to support the weight of the petticoats as I bent forward. My face burned with embarrassment. The Matron placed her fingers on the bridge of her nose. It seemed to take forever, but I eventually stumbled through the curtsy. Grasping the slick taffeta while wearing the lacy gloves was incredibly difficult, but eventually I got a handful, lifted the skirt, swung my right foot behind my left and demurely looked at the floor as I sank into the satin. The knowledge that the instructor was likely leering at my boobs did nothing to help. Another tool in the princess toolbox. The Matron lifted her skirts and walked towards the French doors and the terrace on the other side. "Do what you can with her. I must take a snuff." I was about to wonder what she was talking about when the Instructor grabbed my hand and wrapped an arm around my slip of a waist, pulling me close. My bosom bulged as it pressed into his chest, soft girlish skin rising like warm bread up over the neckline of the gown. My eyes bulged along with them as I felt something firm pressing into my stomach, something that caused me to freak right the fuck out. I shrieked and pulled against the arm around my curvy waist, striking with a weak balled up lacy fist on the Instructor's chest. Startled, he released me and I tumbled to the floor, petticoats flying up over my head. I fought my way free, hugging the skirt around my torso to conceal my cleavage. "What is going on?" the Matron turned back towards the commotion. "She-" the Instructor stammered. "I won't do this!" I shrieked, struggling up onto the high heels, petticoats spilling over my smooth, shapely legs. "You must know how to waltz," the Matron growled. "A Princess must be able to waltz." "I AM NOT A PRINCESS!" I screamed, stamping my heeled foot. The sound was little more than a soft click and my boobs jiggled gently as I wobbled off in a strawberry scented huff. After the third step I went over on my heel and fell back to the ballroom floor in a sobbing pile of taffeta. Tears streamed down my face, splashing over the top of my breasts as they fell. "I'm not a princess." "Bring Anne," the Matron ordered sharply to the giant. "Quickly." As I lay in a miserable little heap, crying into the lace of my gloves the Matron and the Instructor stood together whispering. He began: "The last time I saw this girl she could waltz for hours and still play parlour games. I don't think this girl can even walk in heels. What has happened to her?" "Hysteria? I haven't a clue. The maids swear she is intact." My breath quivered sharply. "Are you certain you brought back the right girl?" "I haven't wandered into a Twain story. I know the girl I helped to raise." "The girl you helped raise is never going to get offers from any suitable gentlemen on her birthday. We won't have a strong marriage and without a strong marriage this kingdom could dissolve like so much sugar into tea." The Matron exhaled heavily. "There is always her sister." "But there will always be a claim against anyone other than the first born. In addition, you will have to find her before you can marry her off." "We still have time to polish her. Have we received any invitations that have gone unanswered?" The Instructor looked at me crying on the floor. "The season is about to start. However, in six days the De Boer family is wedding their third son to the daughter of some business man. Sells clothing to the tourists, I think." The Matron scoffed, "Trash. Still, it may be a good start." "It's a reasonably small event so the risk of rumors getting out will be lessened, and with the start of the tourist season hers may not be the worst manners there. I will respond immediately. It's a little late but who could refuse the charms of Her Highness?" "Stop calling me that!" I shouted. The Matron strode up to me and grasped my tear stained puffy cheeks, squeezing them together. "You will be a lady. You will find a suitable husband. You will make a beautiful bride and you will birth us an heir or everything we all have built will slip away. Do you understand?" The shout that for all I knew she was some kind of robot died on my smooshed lips as Anne ran into the ballroom. "My Lady!" she exclaimed, running to my side and kneeling next to me. "Are you all right?" The Matron pulled her aside before I could answer. "You're certain she is intact?" Anne blushed a little and nodded as I groaned at the idea that things like "being intact" and birthing an heir had somehow become part of my life. "We need her ready within the week, Anne," the Matron said. "We need you to keep her together, can you do that?" "I will try, Matron." "Good. Now, we need to teach her a basic waltz." Anne knelt beside me once again and placed a hand on my bare shoulder. "You used to love dancing, Princess." I grit my teeth and wiped the tears off my face with the lace of my gloves. Makeup stains dissolved into the air around me. "I just want... I don't want to do this. I don't want to dance. I don't want to be... Married off! I don't want to be a princess!" Anne looked over to where the Matron was shaking her head. "If you show them you can do just a basic waltz I'm sure you will be allowed to return to your chambers and, if you like we can play a few games." I turned to look up to meet Anne's gaze and found my eyes tarrying over where her dress fell over her hip and the way the neckline drooped from her small breasts before looking up into her warm, caring eyes. I bit my bottom lip and wrung my tiny gloved hands. "I'm not dancing with him!" I said, pointing at the Instructor. The Matron sighed for what had to be the hundredth time that day. "Anne, would you please dance the lead so we can get on with this?" Somewhere in the back of my mind, past all of the anxiety and the anger, a little evil genius was crackling and rubbing his hands back and forth eagerly. He was quickly beaten to death by the knowledge that all of this was in order to get me married off. Anne curtsied to me and I managed to do the same to her, lifting my petticoats and letting them fall over my velvet heels. Anne extended her left hand and I swallowed as I reached up and accepted it. The heels lessened our height difference, but I still only came up to just under her chin. She placed a hand on my back, at the edge of my shoulder's neckline. Unsure of where to put my hand I tried getting it around to her back. "The shoulder," the Instructor muttered as out of the corner of my eye I saw the Matron running for the terrace. I pressed into Anne's lithe body a little, unsure of how much I could get away with. My boobs bulged up in their soft cups and I felt my face flush as Anne's body pressed back into me, pushing my big skirt into my body. Her small breasts brushed against the soft snowy tops of mine and the blush deepened. Learning to dance was starting to look up. If anyone could tell the effect this was having on me they said nothing. The Instructor poked at the speaker and the sound of instruments playing reached our ears. "And begin!" Both Anne and I tried to move forward at the same time. I shouted as my boobs got smooshed into Anne's body and a pain shot through my chest. "The lady moves backward," the Instructor sighed. We tried again and this time my heel came down squarely on the hem of one of the petticoats. I wobbled and fell to the ground in a puff of soft taffeta. Slowly I learned to move with the sway of the gown so I could keep from stepping on the hems. The soft click of my heels on the polished floor kept time with the music as Anne pushed into me and I pulled away, only to have her push into me again. By the time we had mastered the box step my knees felt like they were made of rubber. "One, Two, Three. One, Two, Three." The Instructor tapped out the rhythm on the floor. "Let's try the underarm turn. Anne?" Anne released my back with a bit of a push towards the arm she was raising. I passed under it without thought and twirled, the skirt and petticoats billowed out around me and then whispered over my soft upper thighs, caressing with their smooth satin. "Oh," a tiny gasp got past my lips as I put out a dainty heel to steady myself. In a flash I understood why all those princesses Marcy had in mind when she made the wish wore all those big dresses. I inhaled sharply, making my boobs heave upward in addition to the undulation from the sudden stop. I put a lacy glove over them, carefully avoiding the golden bow, as my heart felt like it would leap out of my chest. "I think I have to stop," I breathed. "We don't enough time before your Coming Out." I glanced quickly at the Instructor and then at Anne as a flash of panic hit me. "My what?!" He scowled. "Your debutante ball, Your Highness. Your cotillion? Your eighteenth birthday?" "Oh," I sighed, swallowing the frustration. "Very well." "One, Two, Three. One, Two, Three." We continued on until the late afternoon and by then I felt like I was going out of my mind. The humiliation of being poofed into the big silky gown that showed off the body of a busty girl was piled upon the frustration that that body was starting to get switched on and I was never going to be allowed to do anything about it. As Anne walked me back to my chambers I tried to stay focussed on the walls with their portraitures of long dead ancestors whose DNA was probably running in my blood but who had probably never existed at all and off of the way Anne's dress swayed when she stepped. My bottom lip was becoming pained with all of the biting I was doing of it as the warmth bubbling up had turned me into a strawberry scented bubbly cloud of shimmering taffeta, bouncing flesh and girly arousal. "Do you remember when the first De Boer son announced his engagement?" she attempted to make conversation as we walked. "I was visiting their court to see my cousin at the time and I thought girls were going to begin throwing themselves from the windows. That night was the first time we met and you asked me to become your lady-in-waiting. You looked so cute in your little gown." I nodded, not really listening, wringing my hands in their lacy gloves as two men dressed in waistcoats and trousers approached us. Anne curtsied, serving as a buffer between them and myself. I followed her lead, feeling their eyes piercing into my cleavage. Their height meant they didn't need me to curtsy to do it but the submissiveness of the gesture completed the humiliation. "You should not have done that," Anne whispered as they moved on. "Princesses do not defer to their social lessers." I noticed one of the men turn his head back towards us and specifically towards me. My tiny little frame shivered in disgust and I felt goosebumps break out over the top of my ridiculously large boobs. "Do you have any idea whom you wish to offer for your hand on your birthday?" Anne asked. "I keep asking, but you're most secretive." I grumbled as I lifted the gown and followed Anne into the chambers. I made my way into the sitting room and plunked down in as unladylike a manner as I could manage on the couch. The ball gown billowed out over the floor, its hems nearly landing in the fireplace. I pulled my legs inward and spread the gown behind them. Anne sat down beside me and to my shock she pulled a phone out from a hidden compartment on the side of her dress and began to swipe through it. "I have photos of some of the young men at court." My painted eyes widened and without thought I tackled her, snatching at the phone as I fell on top of her. "Mmmmph!" she exclaimed as my boobs plopped onto her face. I felt my whole body flush at the writhing of her lean body beneath my petticoats. I grabbed the phone, a silver inlaid version of the phone the Matron had taken from me. Sitting upright I poked at the screen with my manicured nails, ignoring the way I had to press my arms into my chest to operate it properly. There was a signal! I couldn't remember any of the phone numbers that might have been able to help me directly so I opened up the browser. My breath quickened. Anne blushed. "A few of the other ladies and I have been exchanging pictures of the more... eligible gentlemen at court. Princess, if you wanted to see them that badly, you only needed to ask." I looked at Anne as my heart sank a little and then a lot more as the connection to the webmail account I used was rejected. "This site has been blocked by the Bereglast Tourism Council," I read out loud. "The device you are using is authorised for local access only." I handed the phone back to Anne. "Shit!" Anne gasped. "Princess!" "Stop calling me that!" "You weren't trying to get a connection to the Mainland were you, Princess? You know that only tourists are allowed to do that. Or, I guess you did. Is your memory really that bad?" "I guess so." I remembered thinking when I was with Tess that I had been changed into the heiress of some kind of weird Victorian Amish world, but apparently that wasn't exactly true. Apparently, even though she was in love with big dress wearing princesses, six-year old Marcy's mind could not conceive of a place that did not include internet... Such as it was. "After eighteen sixty seven we were largely on our own. We looked after ourselves and ignored the outside world. Life here was good. Nearly one- hundred years after the Kingdom was birthed there was an outbreak of infantile paralysis. One in seven children were crippled. Your great- grandfather broke our silence and called on several countries for help. When we saw the effectiveness of their techniques it lead to a period of slowly adopting new technology. The problem has started recently that we have had to protect our culture from some of the... lewdness of the outside world." "Oh..." "We have to keep most of the newer technology out of the hands of the commoners," Anne continued. "They don't have the same moral fibre that we do." It struck me. This was less of a Victorian Amish world and more of a Victorian Amish North Korea... With probably less killing and more tea. In order to maintain a place where people still wore these ridiculous clothes that Marcy was so in love with would likely require it. Another compromise in the wish? Like my male brain in a princess body and the robot actors here. And lucky me, I got to be the beautiful young heiress of the whole big mess. I sighed and leaned back, reaching back I pulled the pins that held the tangle of hair behind my head, leaning my head down into my sprawling cleavage. I bit my lip and looked over at Anne who was vigorously swiping through the photos. She adjusted her undergarment absentmindedly. "I think Sir Daltrie cuts a very dashing figure. He won the De Lasse regatta last year. Too bad his family has no standing." I saw Anne's face flush as she looked at the picture and my fingers curled into my hair. I couldn't take it anymore! "Anne, I'm going to lie down for a while before supper. Will you come for me when it's time?" She glanced up at me as I stood up, skirt swirling around me as I spun away from the couch, falling back over my thighs. "Of course, My Lady." I moved as quickly as I could into the bed chamber and shut the door with a quiet click. I made my way over to the bed, pulling my arms the shoulder cuffs of the gown and wiggling it down just a little. My boobs burst over the neckline and bounced as I walked over to the bed, feeling their humiliating weight shift with my clicking heels and swishing skirt. I hopped up onto the soft silk top of the feather bed. I bit my lip hard thinking about what was about to happen. The last time this had happened it had been Tess, I hadn't had to do anything, but now... My male brain and female body clashed as I stared vacantly at the vista of the rosy, nubile skin of my breasts interrupted by the silk taffeta of the gown around my hourglass figure and flowing out into the huge puffy skirt with the cursed petticoats that drooped over the side of the bed. My new body was ready to go. My brain screamed with rage over what it was about to feel, but at the same time it wasn't too happy about the constant feminine arousal. I bit my soft, trembling lip in the little affectation I had picked up since being poofed into this petite body. Turning my gloved slip of a hand over in front of my face I made the decision. But I was going to have to be quiet. I was guessing this wasn't going to be seen as very ladylike behaviour. I slid a gloved hand over my big, soft breast, holding its weight and sinking my hand into the fatty tissue, the hardening nipple popping up between my fingers. Using what I learned from Tess I squeezed it between my fingers and the heel of my hand and tried to imagine what it would be like to have Anne doing the rubbing or... using her teeth! I kneaded the flesh methodically as I pulled the huge skirt up my leg with the other hand, the satin slipping up my naturally hairless leg. The skirt and petticoats flowed up over the bed around my slender legs with their dainty little heels and virgin white knee socks. I slowly parted them and slid a hand under the petticoats, fingering the waist of the lacy panties before moving down to the outline of the two lips that were the source of the bubbling warmth. Seething with rage I ran the lace glove into the lace underwear and in between the lips, stifling a gasp as I hit the spot that Anne had run her finger over in the bath. I came back to it and... had to stifle another gasp as a shot of pain mixed with pleasure. I grit my teeth and hesitated. There was something powerful there, but the pain was too intense to continue. I let out a whimpering sigh as I forced my hand to move on, focussing on my (shudder) clitoris and massaging my boob, the way Tess had. The room spun and a mixture of ecstasy and shame rocked my mind. I wasn't a woman, but then how could I be feeling this? If the wish couldn't change my mind then how could this feel like this? I wasn't a girl, damn it! "This is not happening," I whispered as the bubble swelled. My back arched and I pressed harder into my body with my lacy hands. "This is not happening!" The bubble snapped in an explosion of warmth and pleasure. I had to clench my teeth to keep my voice below a whisper. "This is not happennnnninnnng!" The last of the quiet cry came out as a grunt as muscles contracted and I realized with a gasp that it was the inside of my brand new, never- been-used birth canal! I put the hand that had been on my chest over my mouth and screamed into it before collapsing into a soft, girly puff of skirt, sheets and curls with big glorious boobs resting on my chest. I pulled off the gloves and shoved them under the mattress, wary of whoever it was who did the laundry around the palace, while at the same time ashamed that I had to do so. As I realized the gloves had instantly dried my fingers brushed against something hard and rectangular underneath the mattress. I pulled out a small book, red (big surprise) and engraved on the cover were the initials C. E. V. The book belonged to me, or rather to Past Chloe. I rippled through the pages, scanning the dates at the top of each page. It was a diary. Strange that no one making up the bed had never found it. Of course it was probably created along with the already-made bed at the same moment. I reached the last page with the flowery script of a teenage girl and read. "I am nearly one month away from my cotillion and I cannot express my melancholy. Everyone says that I am to wed a proper gentleman, but I have no desire to. I will never marry a man. It is unfair to use both Marcy and I as currency in order to continue this injustice. I wish to remain here with Anne, I wish to have her talk to me and look at me, but I can't allow this injustice." I sighed. "Annnnnd, past me was a total lez as well." Biting my lip I managed to slide my tiny arms back through the puffy shoulder cuff and stretch the bodice back over my chest. I threw the petticoats back up over my throbbing thighs and rolled over on my side, left breast nuzzling into the right. The rare moment when the haze of femininity actually felt pleasant and almost relaxing came over me and if I was lucky I could ride that relaxation into some kind of sleep until it was time for Anne, the object of Past Chloe's affection, to come and retrieve me for dinner. But when I woke the curtains were closed and it was darkness outside, a blanket had been placed over me. Anne had left me to sleep. A small rumble in my stomach made we wish that she hadn't, and worse, I really had to pee. Rolling out of bed in a swirl of silk I looked toward the chamber door. I really didn't want to go outside, but... Lifting the hem of my gown I made for the door and shoved it open, finding myself in the sitting room. A glimmer from the couch attracted my attention to a woman dressed as a maid sitting there flipping through a smart phone in a sight that I could only describe as surreal. When she noticed me standing there she pocketed the phone and stood at attention. "Milady? Why did you not ring the bell?" "I... um. Which way is the-" What was the polite word for bathroom? "Which way is the lavatory?" She frowned the by now familiar frown. The one that said I was out of my little mind. "Next to the bath, milady." I wondered if I could push my luck. "I feel a bit peckish." "I'll have the kitchen send up some pastries," she curtsied and retrieved the phone. "Huhn. It's good to be the Princess," I muttered, lifting up the gown again. "Except for the outfits." With the first step I stumbled over my heels. My boobs heaved upward and settled back with a humiliating jiggle. I blushed. "And that." I found myself in a lavish room complete with a fainting couch and a marble vanity with a sunken sink. In one corner, partly walled off by a folding modesty screen was a surprisingly modern toilet. I looked at the toilet and then down at my dress and then back at the toilet. "Ummmmm." I stripped the gown off and draped the skirt over the modesty screen. Wearing nothing but red heels, white knee socks and panties I relieved myself and then went through the arduous task of putting the dress back on. Biting my lip as I ran a hand along my unruly breasts, trying to get them situated comfortably in their cups. Blushing, I wiggled back and forth to settle them in place. "Stay put!" I hissed. I caught a glimpse of my babyish face, flanked by locks of brown hair with lively curls, in the mirror of the vanity as I fought with the dress. For a dark moment I tried to imagine the monstrous wedding dress they would put me in to marry me off. Would I even be able to walk in it or would they have to wheel me down the aisle like a parade float? And of course they would want my groom to be able to get a good view of the goods. I shivered. Even the idea of marrying a man gave me the creeps. "No gentleman wants a shrew," I found myself repeating as a tiny smile spread over Chloe's soft lips. A plan started to form in my head, and that plan was to systematically alienate every nobleman, nobleboy and noble-everything-in-between in this kingdom. If they were going to try to marry me off then I was going to make myself as undesirable as possible. Looking at the big, soft boobs bobbing on my tiny hourglass figure along with perfectly made-up face, I pouted my lips. Thinking it was probably easier than doing it, especially with this magically maintained beauty. When I was a man I would have dragged myself across a salt plain covered in broken glass for a girl who looked like this, but I had to believe there was something I could do to keep this thing from happening. I put a hand on my waist in an unintentionally feminine gesture. "Chloe girl, the boys are gonna hate you." It was a decent start, but I still needed a way out of this cursed place. That became my life over the next six days. Anne woke me and my high beams in the morning, though I convinced them to let me bathe myself. I didn't really see the point, Princesses didn't get dirty and the wish made it so. She helped dress me, and did my hair and makeup, also unnecessary, though my lungs were glad to be spared. Then it was a breakfast of tea, toast and fruit followed by hours of learning to sit, stand, sip and generally act like a lady. After three days of this I started developing an accent. It was humiliating, but it was good practice to learn what I needed for the plan. After a lunch of finger sandwiches was dancing... with Anne, which had become a kind of pleasurable hell. I became much better at moving around in heels, floating instead of stomping across the dance floor, but the question was quickly raised: was it worse to be awkward in female clothing or graceful in them? After this came tea and then I would desperately seek some kind of release. I ate dinners of fish and potatoes with the Matron and Anne and discovered that my girly body couldn't hold much food, after two bites of everything on my plate I was stuffed. During these times we were largely alone. I never once saw the people who had allegedly become my parents. In between all of the instructions I kept a close eye on the guards as they milled about on the edge of the world I was trapped in, trying to figure out if there was any way I could escape. That plan quickly fizzled. I was never taken out of the wing where my chambers were located so I had no idea where I would be escaping from or to. Also, I was likely the single most recognizable girl on the island and any attempt to hide my identity would literally vanish in a puff of smoke. Without help I was completely stuck in princess mode. Fortunately the time they were going to take me out for a test run happened to coincide with the start of the tourist season. Every year when the cotillion season started for all the young women the Kingdom of Bereglast allowed a set number of people from the Mainland to come to the island. From what I could tell it was mostly rich couples and a few obsessive Jane Austen fans. Ostensibly this had been going on since the sixties, but no one would be able to remember ever making the trip and this year passes would be going cheap since Bereglast didn't even exist until a week before hand. But, according to Anne a tourist's device could connect to some place off the island. So the plan was this, get access to some stranger's phone and get a connection out for help. The day of I decided that the last thing I needed was any kind of excitement. I convinced Anne to let me dress myself. Standing in a red silk nightie in front of the mirror in the dressing room I bit my lip and grasped the back of the chair, boobs brushing together as I inhaled. "Okay you son-of-a-bitch," I breathed in my girlish voice. "Hit me!" POOOOOOFFFFFFF!! I stood on the palace train platform. It was a place for the royals to board the train which ran over the bridges to the other islands in the archipelago that made up Bereglast and get situated in their state cars before the general public got on at the station in the centre of the port city that made up the rest of the island. The train steamed down the track around the perimeter of the hold. Billows flew from its chimney as it chugged towards where I stood. A heavy sigh escaped from my lips as I put my hand on the top of my new hat, stretching my arm around the huge wide brim. The steam blowing from the train engulfed me, blowing my skirt around my shapely legs as I tried to hold it in place Marilyn Monroe style. Anchored by my hand the hat brim whipped in the breeze but the hat itself remained stationary. I looked like what's-her-name from the opening scenes of Titanic with the royal colour scheme. My super-fair face done up with blush, violet eye shadow and dark lipstick. My dark reddish brown hair was swirled up into a loose Chignon. At least this dress didn't show a ton of skin, in fact it was a little bit masculine, which was the problem. The wide shoulders and the little dark red tie made it look like whoever had made the dress had begun making a red double breasted suit, then they got to the bust line and realized 'Oops, okay, no one is ever going to buy this. We'll do a dress when we get to the waist.' The torso flared out over a small bustle and a single petticoat skirt. Half calf high heeled burgundy boots covered my feet and a tiny matching purse hung from my shoulder on a thin gold chain. But the worst was the outrageous hat with its huge brim and oversized burgundy bow drooping in my face. The train stopped with the last car directly before me and I could see the lavish interior; curtains across the windows and leather bench seats. It was nice to be outside in the sun finally, although I would never know it because of the hat, but I was a little nervous about being out in public as a prim and proper lady for the first time. I wrung my gloved hands. What if they could tell what I really was? I didn't think I could handle that kind of humiliation. To my side the Matron's giant servant was loading a large wardrobe onto the car full of clothing and accessories onto the train. Anne busied herself with her phone, although what she could be doing with a connection that didn't leave the island was beyond me. The Matron tapped her foot and directed the six guards who would be riding in the car in front of us to help with all of the luggage that was being loaded. As far as I knew we were only going to be gone for a single day. I crossed my arms under my boobs and pursed my lips. I was feeling more and more exposed as the moments ticked by, though I couldn't say anything without sounding like a spoiled pop star. We boarded the car and I settled into a place on the bench seat where I could look out of the window towards the front of the train. The Matron sat across from me, silently critiquing my poise as she pulled out a thin book and began reading. Anne approached to take a seat beside me when the train lurched forward. My chest bounced upward as Anne reached out a hand to steady herself. Her hand ended up clutching my right breast, sinking into the tender flesh and her rump ended up squarely in my tiny lap. I flushed along with Anne as she literally leaped off of me and back onto the leather bench. "I'm sorry, Your Highness! I am so sorry!" she bawled. "Please forgive me!" I swallowed and made a big show of straightening my dress and hat while trying to wish away the feeling of having my boob squeezed and the firm weight of a pretty girl pressing into my loins. "It's fine, Anne," I muttered. The train made its way around the edge of the city and I got a good view down the narrow streets with their cobblestone paving and the white stone buildings with their wooden window frames and small panes of glass. They huddled close around the palace, becoming more spread out as we neared the port to facilitate the moving of goods. Even late in the afterno