Date: Sun, 25 Jul 2004 03:01:06 GMT
From: "teresawood1@juno.com" <teresawood1@juno.com>
Subject: Prince of the Realm

     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.