The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was just another day in the life of Daphnia the elfslut. That is to say, she woke up in the morning, had her breakfast of fresh come (drunk straight from the source, as it were) and then her routine would begin. Who would she service today? The chambermaids in waiting? The soldiers in the barracks—probably her most frequent port of call? The visiting dignitaries from another kingdom who wanted some other kind of entertainment besides bards and jesters? She didn’t know and it wasn’t as if she didn’t care, but there was little she could do about it even if she did.

Or so she thought, but on that day there was one a very large difference...when she got back from her daily exertions (it was the barracks again) the door to her cell had been left unlocked.

She stood there in amazement for a second, and then her eyes narrowed. It looked like the resistance had finally come through with at least one part of their bargain. They had promised her freedom, and it looked like they had delivered. A telltale flicker at the edge of consciousness made her shift to astral vision (she still possessed that magical ability despite her transformation) and there, above the pallet that passes for her bed, was an arcane message inscribed on the walls.

“Princess Daphnia. Escape from the castle tonight. We have made sure that the gates are open and that no one will hinder your egress. Rendezvous with a youth named Tivin in a cottage near the outskirts of the forest. We have left further instructions with him. Good luck, and godspeed.”

We? So there was more than one of them...somehow she wasn’t surprised. Considering that Rampillion was strong and clever enough to undermine Erecia’s foundations in a day—to say nothing of being skilled enough in magecraft to best her in magical battle—she surmised that one hooded and mysterious stranger (no matter how skilled or powerful) wouldn’t have been enough to break her out of prison. And he did mention there was a resistance...

There would be enough time for idle speculation later. Concentrating on what magical abilities were left to her, Daphnia managed to see a line of sigils in the air leading her away from her cell and into areas of the castle she had never explored even when she was still the princess. She navigated the cold, damp corridors of the lower floors until she came to a place even beyond the dungeons where she had been kept.

The old aqueducts. When she was small, she had been told that she should never come here if not kelpies and other monsters would eat her up. Tall tales told to dissuade her from exploring and keep her back in her rooms, memorizing spells and etiquette lessons, no doubt. Apparently, it seemed that the resistance knew her residence better than she did herself—the sigils in the air formed a sparkling line that led further into the unexplored bowels of the castle.

She had no other options but to follow it. As she made her way through the long, twisting tunnels to—hopefully—the surface, questions formed and bubbled in her mind. Where was this leading her? What would happen to her when she got there? So many questions...the transformed princess tried her hardest to concentrate on her surroundings and follow the path to the as best as she was able. Fortunately enough today the soldiers had used her hard enough so that she was able to do that without much difficulty. The biting cold did cause her nipples to become uncomfortably erect, and as always she had to be careful that she didn’t bump them into any of the walls, but in the past months she had gotten used to her new body, and she made it out with a minimum of difficulty.

She emerged in a small glade a few miles from the castle. She looked back at her former home with a mixture of rage, regret and fear—rage at the usurper, regret at having to leave her home behind, and fear at what would come next. But there was no way but forwards at this point. There was nothing remaining for her in her former home but an eternity spent in carnal servitude to others. No matter how much pleasure her thrice-cursed new body gave her when she had sex, it wasn’t how she wanted to spend the rest of her days.

After a few minutes of walking she found the cottage that the message spoke of. Daphnia debated knocking on the door for a bit, but in the end she just opened it and walked in. A sandy-haired youth was waiting with a worried expression on his face—Tivin, she presumed. He looked up at her entrance and his features softened into pure relief.

“Princess! Is that you?” he burst out. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Princess? How did he know she was the princess...her body was still that of an elfslut, and no physical trace of Princess Daphnia remained. Her confusion must have shown on her face because he smiled reassuringly. “It’s alright, your Highness. The Resistance told me about what happened to you. But we will talk more in the morning. You must be tired from your journey.”

The many questions that Daphnia wanted to ask died on her lips...now that he mentioned it, she WAS tired. She had been so high on adrenaline and the myriad emotions so had experienced during her escape that the fact had evaded her until now. Her eyelids drooping, she nodded in thanks and let Tivin led her to a small bed where she could rest—and in moments she had tumbled into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Morning—her first outside the castle—brought with it blue skies, white clouds and...real food. It was porridge with a pat of butter, and Daphnia devoured it greedily. As much as she had grown to like the taste of...certain bodily fluids, there was no substitute for a proper breakfast, and she relished every bite (as well as noting it’s unfortunate resemblance to her breakfast of the day before)

After he had cleared away the plates, Tivin was able to sit down and answer the many questions Daphnia had for him. Unfortunately the resistance had him next to nothing. He was to meet the princess in his cottage—more specifically, his father’s cottage. Tivin the Elder was away on a hunting trip, and his son was tending the small plot of land that they both lived on. They were to get to the town of Asdale as soon as possible, whereupon someone else would meet them. No mention was made of her other family members, or breaking the spell that had been cast on her. As to the resistance itself, the boy—youth, actually, he was in that awkward space between man and boyhood—didn’t know much, other than the fact that an organization created to resist Rampillion had been created, and that he had joined the moment he knew of its existence.

Daphnia had many other questions—how was the kingdom faring? What was being done to oppose the usurper? Who or what comprised this resistance? But she sensed that the boy was only a willing pawn in a game far beyond his comprehension. After all, he was only a simple farmer’s son, even though his loyalty to the kingdom was strong and admirable. She could do worse than subjects like that. Besides which, time was of the essence, and every moment spent dallying was a moment more that they didn’t have to lose. Her escape had surely been detected by now, and she was eager to get as far away from Erecia as possible.

When it came to the question of clothes, though, Tivin and her came up short. Her proportions meant that no simple peasant dress could fit her. Anything she wore looked almost obscene—too short and too long in all the right places. In any case—dresses had not been designed for elfsluts, and where skirts were supposed to cinch at her waist, in her case they barely fit over her flared hips. The size of her breasts meant that not only did she make any that she wore develop instant cleavage, she couldn’t even get into some of them. Finally as a matter of expedience they both settled on a simple halter top and skirt that were far too small, but were better than being naked.

Their journey had stared uneventfully enough. They travelled light—Tivin had a backpack for himself, and little else except for a few changes of clothes. They would stick mainly to the forest to make use of the boy’s woodland skills as well as remain undetected. They set a brisk pace each day, so it would take at most about a few weeks to reach the town of Asdale, which Daphnia remembered as being quite far on foot.

But trouble appears in unexpected places.

Namely, in the form of sexual attraction. She hadn’t missed the surreptitious glances Tivin had been giving her the whole day. He had been shooting looks at her that ranged from heated glances of lust to almost ogling her overdeveloped charms—then blushing and turning away before she could notice. It didn’t come as any surprise. She was used to being looked at in the castle, and she had come to almost enjoy showing off her new body...even if she often wrestled with how much pleasure it was to display herself to others.

She couldn’t quite blame him. Her transformed form was designed to arouse and to tantalize, and it did so most splendidly. At first, she had just tried to ignore it—it wasn’t his fault and they had other, more important things to do.

But it got steadily worse as the day wore on. The same, wide, curving hips that had turned the heads of so many soldiers now worked their magic on Tivin, and her gigantic chest, swaying and bouncing with the slightest motion (gods, why did Rampillion have to make them so BIG?) drew his attention away from the road more than once. She almost laughed aloud when once, trying his best to look and not look at the same time, he almost slammed his head into a hanging branch. But it was far from a laughing matter.

She could only imagine what kind of a war was raging inside the poor boy’s head. On one hand, here was a delectable, voluptuous elfslut, the likes of which he had never seen before. On the other hand, that same elfslut was also his princess, and he was honor-bound and sworn to protect her—and definitely NOT sneak peeks at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was a dilemma that the princess did not envy him. She even had more than her fair share of sympathy for the poor boy—he was only a man, after all.

Daphnia didn’t know whether to be embarrassed, flattered or impressed. In the end she decided to be neither. But she hadn’t reckoned on her own burgeoning desires. Being in the castle and fucked by one man and woman after another on a daily (almost hourly!) basis for months, she had forgotten how the normal world worked. People were not supposed to throw each other down on the floor and ravage them without at least saying hello first. She had become accustomed to having her itches scratched, and to be without sex—or to put it more accurately, fucking—was a burden on her that she wasn’t aware of.

The first few hours were ok—the excitement of the new situation and took the edge of her constant arousal, and her mind was filled with thoughts of freedom and the future. But as night fell she felt the all-too familiar heat in her pussy spring to life, kindled in no small part by her companions’ clandestine looks. She could see a bulge in his trousers that he tried the best to hide (the darling!) and the erstwhile princess blushed as she discovered that she all but licked her lips when she looked at it. What he would taste like, she wondered. Slightly bitter, like the castle guards? But he was a farmer’s son, and his diet would be better than the soldiers, so maybe he would be a little sweeter, like cooks and stableh—no, no, NO! They were on a mission, and these kinds of thoughts were wholly inappropriate.

They passed a restless night together, trying and failing to ignore the slow but undeniable buildup of sexual tension between them. Daphnia made it a point to sleep as far away from him as possible, but she was still acutely aware of his masculine presence near her, and her hands snaked down to her aching snatch more than once during the night. If only she could just...she struggled to get those wanton thoughts out of her mind and almost succeeded.

The second day was if even possible, worse than the first. It was that damnable elfslut body again, causing trouble for the both of them. As much as she tried to, she couldn’t avoid walking in the way she did—swinging herself from side to side so that her full buttocks were thrust out. To say nothing of her huge, bouncing tits and long, slender stomach and hips. More than once she caught him with his eyes glued to her body—her luscious behind, her enormous breasts (men seemed to love those...) or any other part of her magically-enhanced frame. He would have to be a eunuch not to notice, and he was far from one—no, he was a delectable specimen of manhood that she yearned to—she was doing it again!

By the end of the fourth day Daphnia had come to a decision. The state of affairs was making them both miserable. The tent in his pants was going to wear out all his good breeches at that rate, and she was so filled with elvish desire that she could hardly walk straight herself. If she didn’t have sex with him the two of them would be in no state to find information and search for their contact when they did eventually arrive in town.

But how to broach the subject? It was not as if she could tell him outright that she wanted to fuck him. He would probably either faint in shock or run for the hills. But if she didn’t open her mouth (well, at least not that one...) then they would be at this impasse forever. But there were other ways that didn’t involve words at all.

The time in the castle had changed her. In her mind she still thought of herself as the crown princess of the realm, but her anatomy and the urges that came with it had wreaked greater transformation than she knew—and not all of them physical either. She had awakened to a wantonness, to a freedom that she never had while in the gilded cage of royalty. She remembered her own seductions of whoever caught her fancy after the day’s work was done—handsome guards, lean, muscled and oh-so satisfyingly HARD as they thrust into her, to blushing maidens that she had to coax into one orgasm after the other. No one could resist her when she wanted her itch scratched—she just found someone to scratch it.

So it seemed like the simplest thing in the world to when the next time she caught him looking, she met his gaze squarely, thrust her shoulders back (which had the side effect of putting her ponderous tits on greater display) and strode over to him. Actions spoke louder than words, they said, and this way the time to put that old saying to the test. Before he could react she had locked her lips to her in a smoldering kiss that seemed to reach all the way down to her loins.

When they finally broke their liplock he was dazed, eyes blinking and breathing heavily. Well, he hadn’t run, so that was a good start. She looked down and almost gasped in shock, if she had thought his erection was bad before it fairly made a tent in his trousers now...she was concerned for the boy, but she knew just what to do about it. He was about to say something when Daphnia put her finger to his lips in the universal gesture for silence, then knelt down and undid his breeches in a single fluid motion.

Ah, cock. She couldn’t wait to get it into her mouth, and then after that into her snatch...but first things first. she looked at the angry red head in anticipation and almost swallowed it in her hunger. This wasn’t the time to tease him with slow licks, or to try any of the tricks she had learnt in the castle—she wanted him to come, and come fast and hard. So she sealed her plush lips over his organ and sucked like a demon until within seconds he came into her eager mouth.

He didn’t taste quite like she had expected—kind of musky, with the faint hint of mushrooms. Must be the woodland foods he ate. He let herself savor for it a moment, swirling the thick liquid around her teeth and gums, and then before he could recover, pushed him back onto the ground. He was bigger than her, but her tits gave her lots of extra mass. She was not too surprised to see that his erection hadn’t flagged at all. She looked over it with a practiced eye and figured he was good for three, maybe four more rounds.

Well, no time like the present. Daphnia gave him a smile filled with both gentleness and raging desire, then reached down to fit herself around him.

They both groaned as she slid in easily—her own arousal had her practically dripping with need, and the copious lubrication let his slip his engorged penis into her with no difficulty whatsoever. He bucked and twitched at her entry and if she hadn’t just come in her mouth she was sure that he would have spurted the moment he entered her. As it was, his hips shot off the ground, and she had to steady herself by placing her hands on his shoulders as she ground herself back onto him.

It had been so long! The four days spent without fornication of any kind were like an eternity to Daphnia the elfslut. She bounced on top of him, her long, golden hair flying and massive, tits heaving, until with a sound halfway between a groan and a whimper he emptied himself into her. She sighed in bliss as she felt his cock pulse in her depths....gods, how she had missed this! It felt so, so, good!

Their mutual hunger sated for the moment, she rolled off him and onto the mossy forest floor, delighting in the slow trickle of their combined fluids from her nether orifice. She had come a few times herself, courtesy of her hypersensitive elfslut body, but she needed more. She needed more. Twice—once in her mouth, once inside—was just barely getting started. She glanced down at his cock and noted with some dismay that it was only semi-hard now. Well, she knew just what to do about that.

Catching his eyes, she preened for him slightly, then gave him a lascivious smile, thrusting out her massive chest in a successful bid for his attention. Almost at once he stiffened to attention again. Even after all these months, it was still her breasts that got the most attention for anyone. Some of her lovers wanted to ream her in the ass, and some enjoyed the attentions of her talented mouth, but no one, it seemed, could resist the allure of her bronzed bosom. And she couldn’t blame them—they were magnificent, twin massive mountains of perfection, heavy, full and standing proudly from her chest with not even the barest hint of sagging. She cupped the overflowing orbs in her hands, offering them to him, and he sprang to full mast in seconds.

Time for round three. This time there was no foreplay—they were both ready and willing. All his previous hesitation had seemingly vanished, and when she lay on her back and spread her long legs, he dove into her with the force of a tornado. She felt his slim arms encircle her and clasp her curvy body to him, her tits squashed against his chest and giving off all sorts of delicious sensations. But the centerpiece was of course his lovely cock, furiously pistoning between her legs.

He might have been young and experienced, but his passion and enthusiasm more than made up for it, and as his rod continued to plunder her eager depths Daphnia found herself cresting her peak once...twice, three...no, was that four? Five times? She lost count. Gods, he was so passionate, so eager! Daphnia was no stranger to multiple orgasms, but somehow this youth was able to bring her to heights than even Briva, with his muscled body and huge cock, were unable to. She guessed it was perhaps the forbidden nature of their congress that turned her on so much—she shouldn’t be fucking what was essentially her manservant. Or maybe it was the long four days when she was unable to even masturbate for fear of him spotting her. Whatever the case, she wasn’t complaining.

Another part of her mind whispered that she should really not be doing this—not only because it was altogether improper conduct, but because she was spoiling him for all future women...for who could compete with the impossibly voluptuous body of an elfslut? Whatever girls or women he bedded in future would be judged and found wanting. But she wanted him, and he most obviously wanted her, and that was all there was to it.

But enough thinking, back to fucking. She kissed him again and again as their bodies bucked into each other, and their tongues danced with each other in the same way that their genitals did. Finally she felt the stiffening of his rod that signaled his imminent release, and she whispered into his ear (just like with Briva, men seemed to like that) that it was ok, that he could come as deep and as hard in her as he liked. She didn’t do it with her casual lovers = no, only those she cared about. It seemed to have its intended effect—he moaned long and loud and came into her violently, and she purred like a cat as her pussy milked him of every last drop.

After their most recent round, he lay back, panting heavily. She had to commend him on his stamina—most men would have been unconscious by now. But Daphnia’s fire had been kindled and would not be denied. She writhed on the ground, stroking herself all over, plunging a perfectly formed finger into her molten depths and caressing her huge, heaving tits. Three times in a row might have been enough for a normal human, but she was an elfslut—created for the sole purpose of fornication. She rolled on the floor, almost fucking herself against the trees that surrounded their campsite in a bid to get his attention.

It worked. Whether he was more turned on by her wanton display or the fact that his princess was behaving in such a lewd manner did not manner in the least—he had gotten erect again, and strode over to her purposefully. She had gotten down on all fours and waved her sumptuous behind in his face until he seized her by her wide hips and slammed home in a single, deep thrust.

Daphnia’s eyes opened wide in shock, and she came instantly. For someone who had been so timid before, he certain wasn’t shy now! After being fucked so often and in so many ways, Daphnia found that she liked doggy style the best. There was something wild and animalistic about mating in the way that beasts did. Plus, no one ever seemed to be able to resist the call of her mammoth mammaries as they bounced in front of her, and while on all fours she could have her lovers grab them while they fucked her from behind. Plain old missionary would never satisfy her now, though it was better than having no sex at all.

They stood settled into a comfortable rhythm, with Tivin screwing her hard and fast, just the way she liked it. He could last longer this time because he had already come three times before, but he showed no signs of stopping as he continued to thrust deep into the body of his princess. But all good things must come to an end, and after a few minutes of frenzied fucking they both shuddered together in the throes of a shared orgasm. Seconds later, the youth pulled out of her and collapsed into a heap on the forest floor.

Daphnia smiled in satisfaction and in a sudden fit of tenderness, reached over to smooth his brow. The poor dear was worn out. She was far from tired herself—a veteran of a hundred orgies and more—but she had enough care and sense to let the boy rest. She had really put him through her paces, and well, there was always tomorrow.

Tomorrow dawned and brought with it more fucking. Now that they had done the deed and there was little to no embarrassment between them, Daphnia saw no problem in soliciting the youth for sex at any available opportunity. They both had urges, and the sooner they were satiated, the easier it was to return to the business of walking, foraging for food, and doing all the humdrum things one does in on a journey. The nights were a lot more pleasant now, and under her tutelage Tivin soon matured into a skilled and tender lover.

But another problem soon reared its ugly head halfway along their journey. They were running out of coin. The resistance hadn’t seen fit to supply the youth with much, and as of course Daphnia had none of their own. Farmers did not earn much, and Tivin had already brought along everything they had. Even with his ability to live off the land, there were still things they needed to buy—water (there were few streams to drink from in the areas they traversed) travel permits (Rampillion had set up a system of checkpoints throughout each town) and extra supplies for when they weren’t in the woods anymore. For the last leg of the journey, they would be in residential areas rather than forested ones—Asdale was a bustling town, and that meant stays at inns as they approached their destination.

They needed to earn money, and fast. Daphnia let her steward suggest a few useless things until she put forth the idea that was foremost in both their minds—she would whore herself out for coin.

His indignant reaction was everything she expected. How could she even think of doing such a thing, the youth sputtered. She was the princess of the realm, not some common strumpet! No, he would do anything to prevent his liege from being subjected to such indignities...he would hunt, or fish, or work in the taverns and bars along the way. Anything but that!

Daphnia had just smiled and logically pointed out that the most expedient method of earning money was for her to prostitute herself. They could not afford to dawdle, and with her body, they would practically have to beat men off with a stick. Furthermore, it would relieve Tivin of some of his nightly duties—the boy tried, but he couldn’t quite keep up with her insatiable appetites.

And if she was being quite honest with herself...Daphnia missed having sex with multiple partners, sometimes more than one at a time. She had grown to love being the center of attention, with a cock in her pussy, another up her ass, and one more in her mouth. Being taken repeatedly and forcefully without a chance to rest—not that she needed one. She liked Tivin and his gentle lovemaking, but her elfslut body yearned to be used, and used hard.

So she put paid to her steward’s further protest by issuing a royal command. She would be working the nights starting from the next town, and there she would brook no more discussion about the matter.

She had expected to feel embarrassment—even shame!—at her suggestion, but she had felt none. In the castle she had been fucked more than a thousand times, and so any recalcitrance she might have felt at the act of coitus had long since vanished. Sex now felt as natural to her as walking, talking or breathing. There were some vestiges of her old self, yes, but they had faded into small whispers rather than the loud shouting that they formerly were.

As to the actual act of whoring...it was simple. Beyond simple, really. All she had to do was stroll to the middle of a tavern and divest herself of the few scraps of clothing she wore, and all male (and a few female) eyes would instantly be open her. She didn’t even need to say anything—her rolling gait, smoldering eyes and soaking snatch spoke volumes. And from then on it was a short trip to an empty room, where her customers would proceed to fuck her brains out, pay her for services rendered, and leave.

Sex in her elfslut body never seemed to get old. In one of her philosophical moments Daphnia reflected that she must have had more a thousand lovers by now, but yet each new one entering her hungry slit made her scream in pleasure anew. Each new lover was different in a way, but yet the same. Some liked one position, some another. Some wanted her on her back, some on all fours, and others still standing up. Some wanted to have her suck them off, but a fair amount of them also wanted to take her in the ass—a notion that in her other life as a princess she would have been horrified by, but now she simply thought of as just another position. Another benefit of her new body—being fucked in her butt felt just as wonderful and amazing as being penetrated from her front.

So she licked and fucked and sucked and smiled at her customers as they took her in all sorts of ways, and even sometimes found herself giggling—she had never giggled before! And for the life of her she had never in all her years felt so wanton, so naughty...so, so, free.

She wanted what Tivin thought of all this. She sort of felt sorry for the poor boy—having all his dreams of his prim, proper princess shattered beyond measure. but reasoned that it might scar him further. Daphnia was not an unkind soul, and she thought to herself more than once that her erstwhile steward might be shocked or even jealous that his princess and bed partner was fucking so many other men (and the occasional woman) She did make it a point to sleep with him whenever she could manage it, and his gentle caresses and slower lovemaking was indeed a welcome change from the hard usage that most of her days were full of. But her body demanded more and more—that dammable itch again!—and the only way to scratch it seemed was on her back or on all fours, being taken again and again and again. Plus...they needed the money! What was a transformed princess to do?

She was just doing the best she could, she reasoned. But enough time had passed since her transformation that she knew that she was lying to herself. Being fucked just felt so... so...good. Over time she had refined her carnal activities into something of an artform. She retained enough presence of mind even while moaning and screaming to be able to judge the relative arousal levels of herself and her partner/s, so that she could often take the lead and do other things besides simply laying there and taking it—as enjoyable as that was. She reveled in the fact that she could make a man cum just by clenching her pussy muscles, and she learned just the right way to lick the underside of a hard shaft so that it would deposit its creamy reward into her mouth all the faster. She experimented with different positions, seeing which could bring herself and her partners more pleasure. As a mage, Daphnia had excelled at her studies, always trying to find a better way to cast a spell to be faster and more efficient, and so as an elfslut, she applied that same fervor and dedication to the only thing she could really do in her transformed state—fucking.

And how she fucked. She told herself that she was only doing it for the money, because they needed to get to Asdale, but in truth she would have done it for free. Her desires had not lessened in the least since leaving the castle—an elfslut was still an elfslut, after all, and she was all too willing to spread her legs for anyone who so as much looked at her the right way. The farmers that made up the bulk of her customers were different from the, she loved the way their rough, calloused hands felt on her soft skin, their hard cocks and her eager snatch, and the most of all their looks of incredulous wonder—how were they managing to have sex which such a wondrous creature? Well, she was the princess, and as such was honor-bound to take care of her charges, and if that meant screwing them every which way, then so be it.

Her nocturnal exploits soon provided them with a steady stream of coin, and so they were quickly able to get to where they were going much faster than they thought possible. They even managed to find two horses at a discount—courtesy of a whispered backdoor deal and her skilled mouth and tongue. There was a little left over, and so Daphnia treated herself to a puff pastry bought from a roadside vendor—she had never thought that a simple confection could taste so good! There was something about buying something with your own hard-earned money (no matter HOW the money was earned...) that was special into and of itself.

The horses helped a great deal. They could now cover the same ground in almost half the time, and it looked like they would reach their destination with ample time to spare. But they came with their own set of unforeseen inconveniences as well. The up and down motion of the horse’s gallop served to remind her body of other familiar activities, and the saddles that they had bought chafed at her needful pussy. Not for the first time, the princess cursed her over-sensitive body, which made even a simple horse ride into something sexual. But her loss (if it even was one) was others’ gain, and it was too very happy and lucky swordsmen who had a half-naked nymph almost throw herself at them, at the next rest stop they visited.

But it wasn’t all carnal indulgence either. Now she had escaped the confines of the castle, she was discovering aspects to existence that she has never dreamed possible. At the princess her life was filled with duty and responsibilities—meeting to chair, spells to learn, and people to meet. As an elfslut bound in chains of desire in the prison of her former home, she had nothing to look forwards to but endless rounds of fornication, a fate that had aspects of both heaven and hell in one.

But now that she was outside, free of the bonds of both country and spellcraft, she was discovered a whole new world out there. Yes, she still had to satisfy her baser instincts from time to time, but she was in control of that now. Everything seemed more alive, somehow. Whether it was her new body or her recent experiences, Daphnia was suffused with a zest for life that she hadn’t felt...ever. She found herself stopping to smell the flowers by the roadside, look in wonder at the sky above, and watch people as the milled around the town square.. It wasn’t all about the fornication—somehow being away from the castle, away from her responsibilities, worked in a kind of magic on her which was far from unwelcome.

It wasn’t that she hated being the princess—in fact, she was happy to be able to serve. It was just that the constant need to be on call every moment of each day wore her down more than she knew. So it was that she when she had some time to herself in between her whoring and her travels, she snuck out to the nearby fields and played and gamboled among the flowers and the trees. She hadn’t been aware of how happy being surrounded by greenery would make her feel. She had always eschewed the druidic arts in favor of the hermetic disciplines, but now she was forced to reconsider her stance and wonder if the hermits and druids that she once pooh-poohed had the right of it.

It was indeed a kind of rare joy to be among nature. She adorned herself with flowers, rolled around in the grass and ran in the fields just because she could. Perhaps her transformation had made her more attuned to the rhythms of nature as well—it certainly felt like she tasted more, heard more, and saw more that she had ever did. As a mage Daphnia was accustomed to living in her head, filled with logic and reason, but her new body had forced a world of the senses onto her...and she wasn’t complaining.

Maybe being an elfslut wasn’t so bad after all.

But her joy in her temporary freedom was still muted by the concern she still had for her people and kingdom. In her brief travels with Tivin she had already seen the effects of the usurper’s rule—increased taxes, slaves in the marketplace (her mother and her would never have allowed that!) and fields that were being harvested even before it was the season. Her people looked tired and worn, haggard from having to attend to the demands of the glorified thugs that Rampillion called his personal guard. It made her blood boil to see such injustices being done, but what could she do?

Nothing except hurry to Asdale as soon as possible. She knew not what awaited her there, but she was about to find out.