The Defeat of Prince Altan

by Jayne Dell

 

CHAPTER ONE

It had been three days since the terrible bloody battle. The Alorian forces had been betrayed, and the warlord had ruthlessly hunted down the last remnants of resistance. Finally, he had succeeded in his goal; he had captured Prince Altan, the leader of the Alorian forces. He ordered that Altan be brought before him to hear his fate. Prince Altan was over 6ft tall, and well built. He had a reputation as a fair leader and a tough fighter. For year, under his leadership, Aloria had resisted the warlord's attacks.

The warlord looked at his captured enemy with pleasure.

"For daring to contest my will, and for raising rebellion against me, I will execute your people. Aloria will be the kingdom of the dead. Everyone will die, and you will be the last, so you can see what your resistance has done." said the Warlord.

Altan knew the Warlord was ruthless, and that he would carry out his threat.

He was desperate to think of a way to save his people.

"It's me you want." he shouted, "If you'll let my people live, I'll willingly do whatever you want. My word as a warrior."

"Anything I want? Willingly?" questioned the warrior. He paused, and an evil look came into his eyes.

"I have a suitable punishment in mind for you, but I warn you, if you back out I will carry out my threat."

"If you let them live, and treat them well, I'll accept whatever punishment you want, no matter how terrible. I swear by my honour as a warrior" replied Prince Altan. He realised that he would probably be forced to fight for the Warlord, but his people came first.

"Then so be it," laughed the Warlord. "Anything I want. But if you withdraw from your oath, I shall carry out the extermination, remember that!"

To Altan's surprise, the Warlord nodded to the Sorcerer, who began to chant words of magic.

This was not what he had expected. He began to speak, to demand that the Warlord explain what the Wizard was doing, but he suddenly found that he was unable to form any words. For a brief moment he was confused, but then he felt his body begin to change. He tried to speak, but all he could do was open his mouth in a soundless cry. He slumped to his knees, as all of his strength seemed to drain out of his body. He lifted a hand, and watched almost fascinated, as the tanned and muscled hand shrank, and became white, slender and delicate. He could feel his facial features shifting and changing. His thick beard seemed to be sucked back into is face, only to emerge from his head, as waves of straight silken blonde hair that cascaded over his shoulders.

He gasped for breath, as his ribs were crushed together, forming a slim waist. Before his eyes, he saw two large lumps form under his shirt, and he could feel his flesh expanding to form two large shapely breasts that slowly drooped, hanging heavily on his chest. He was almost sick as an internal wrench told him that his insides had just transformed themselves. He felt his manhood begin to shrink, and finally found his voice in a high pitched, feminine scream, but it was too late. He felt his manhood disappear into his body, and it was replaced by a strange nothingness. His mind shrank from what had just happened to him.

Before he could recover, the Warlord roughly pulled him to his feet.

Helplessly, he felt his trousers, that were now much too large for his slim waist, slip off his hips. Automatically, he started to struggle but was horrified by the lack of strength in his new body. He was easily mastered by the warrior, who examined his new body closely.

"Not bad at all" he said lecherously, as he slowly pushed a hand up Altan's shirt to his new breasts. Casually he squeezed them, enjoying his ability to force the struggling girl to his will.

"What have you done?" gasped Altan, his new feminine voice betraying his shock.

The Warlord smiled evilly. "Remember," he whispered. "You agreed, willingly you said."

The shock of realisation suddenly hit Altan, and he ceased his struggles, staring at the Warlord in fear. The Warlord smiled at the look of horror in the beautiful female face.

"No," he gasped, "I never agreed to that, I never, I mean wouldn't, I couldn't."

"Oh but you can, and you will," said the warrior quietly. "You agreed, willing and compliant, whatever I want. Of course you could change your mind, but then...", he left the threat hanging, knowing Altan would have to agree to his demands, or face the slaughter of his people.

For a moment Altan stared at him. He couldn't possibly be serious, he must understand. But he knew instinctively that the Warlord was serious, and he would carry out his threats. There must be some other way, he couldn't live as a woman. He was a warrior, not a lady. He desperately tried to think of a way out, but he knew as he looked into the Warlord's eyes, that there was none. Slowly his pretty green eyes dropped in defeat.

"I think you'll enjoy being a women," mocked the Warlord. "Lovely dresses, skirts and corsets for you to wear, and petticoats to embroider. Of course, you will have to be demure and obedient. And make yourself pretty for your master."

The warrior smiled, and gestured for the two female attendants to approach.

Get the Princess dressed to be presented at the ceremony" he ordered mockingly. "And," he said lifting her face by the chin to look into her horrified eyes, "I want her to look every inch the Princess she is."

Stunned by what had happened, he was taken unresisting to a room where they stripped off his remaining rough warrior leathers, and began to bathe him in a bath of perfumed water.

What had he done? He had expected to be forced to fight in the Warlord armies. This fate was worse than anything he could possibly imagine. Without knowing, he had voluntarily agreed to be changed into a female, a willing and compliant female. For a moment, the horror of his situation made him consider renouncing his oath, but the plight of his people and his sacred warrior's oath made him realise that he had to continue. No one had ever broken the warrior's oath. He had agreed, he had no choice, he would have to keep his word. He could feel a fear inside him that he had never known before.

They made him lie naked on a stone slab whilst they rubbed aromatic oils into his soft skin. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the delicate touch of the harem girl's soft fingers as they rubbed to aromatic oils into his luscious new breasts.

When they had finished bathing and perfuming his body, they led him into a room full of skirts, dresses and other female clothes; jewellery and makeup lined the dressing tables.

He hesitated, realising to his dismay that they were going to make him dress in feminine clothes.

"Now I don't expect that we will have any trouble, I expect you to be a good girl," said the lady in charge, taking him firmly by the wrist.

For a moment he resisted, but knowing that he had no choice, Altan shook his head his surrender.

"Well, say it then", she demanded.

"I will be good", said Altan, knowing that he had to obey.

"Say it properly," she demanded.

"I will be a good girl" whispered Altan, his face burning with shame and humiliation.

"Good. Well then, since you are going to be a good girl, let's get you dressed in something pretty and feminine" smiled the lady with satisfaction.

In a moment of pure shame, he meekly obeyed their orders, and slowly pulled a pair of frilly pink silk and lace panties up his long slender legs. The silk was absolutely smooth, as he pulled the skimpy knickers over his curved hips. For a moment he felt the strangeness of having nothing between his legs, the lacy panties ran smoothly over his new maidenhood, the silky material causing him a certain involuntary pleasure as it rubbed him.

Then he picked up the bra, and slowly put it on. He found the feeling of the bra as it lifted his sensitive feminine breasts, and held them upright, and the feeling of the lacy straps over his shoulders quite unsettling. But he also found it a relief, as he slipped his new breasts smoothly into the lacy silk cup, to have the weight of his large breasts supported. It was a totally feminine item of clothing, he had never worn anything like it before. He could feel the silky material holding his breasts, and the lace edging running sensuously over his skin.

The ladies then gave him a lacy suspender belt, which he slowly put on. He took the gossamer stockings, and slowly drew the silky sheer material up his smooth white legs, connecting them to the lacy straps hanging down his legs. The stockings felt strange on his long slender legs, a sensual feeling that he had never experienced before. His whole body seemed to be covered in lacy silk straps, running over his shoulders and legs, restricting and constraining him. Finally the women made him to wear a pair of pretty, elbow length, pink silk gloves. The thought of wearing the female clothes was utterly humiliating, he was a warrior, used to rough leathers and armour, but now he was clad in soft frilly feminine lingerie.

Dressed in the sensual feminine underwear, he was made to sit at the dressing table, and have make up applied to his pretty face. He flushed with embarrassment, as the two ladies applied the cosmetics. It was so humiliating to sit here scantily clad in feminine lingerie. He glanced down, and saw his luscious new breasts covered by the lacy silk of his bra. He could feel them hanging heavily in the pink silken cup, their weight on the lacy straps over his shoulders. The ladies applied foundation, and began to apply lipstick to his already full round lips. He was forced to cooperate by pursing and pouting his lips. He could feel the soft brush moving slowly over his lips, as they slowly painted them a delicate pink. When they were finished with his lips, they used mascara and eye shadow on his long lashed eyes. As he sat there with his eyes closed, he could feel the soft silk of his suspenders and stockings encircling his legs. Finally the ladies applied blusher to his pretty high cheeks, giving him a delicate feminine blush.

Enjoying her dominance, the lady in charge made him face a long mirror as she dressed him in a slinky, full-length white and pink silk dress that amply displayed his feminine form. He was forced to watch, helplessly, as they slowly clad him in a pretty feminine dress.

He stepped into the dress, and they slowly drew it up his slender body. He could feel the silky material of the tight dress as they drew it slowly over his feminine hips. He could feel the tightness of the silken skirt as it ran over his stockinged legs.

The dress was gathered tightly to the waist, but then billowed out, with a large bustle. A broad pink ribbon was tied around his slim waist and made into a pretty bow that hung down the back of the lovely dress. The dress ran over the shoulders, and was trimmed with lace and a pink bow as it dipped low over his breasts. The bodice pulled his breasts together, and displayed a large cleavage. It made his breasts heave when he took a breath. The sleeves came tightly to his elbows, but then flared out with pretty white lace. Underneath the large skirt, there was a tight full-length satin petticoat that restricted the movement of his legs, forcing him to take short little feminine steps, and to walk with a feminine sway. It ran so tight against his legs, that every tiny movement caused a silky restrictive feeling up his legs. He could feel the silken stockings rubbing together, the lacy tops and suspenders tight against his thighs. The tightness of the underskirt and the lacy straps covering his body made him feel helpless, almost as if he had been tied up.

The silken material of the feminine clothes actually felt strangely erotic on his curved female form, especially the underwear. He was dismayed to find himself getting quite aroused at the feel of the silken lingerie, and the full feminine skirt.

He found the bodice and the satin petticoat of the tight dress confining. It was so tight that it made him feel faint and breathless, and a delicate blush adorned his cheeks. He knew that this was planned to make him seem to be fragile and helpless. He could feel the silk of the bodice tight against his skin, rubbing silkily against his curved body as he moved. He could not believe he was dressing in women's clothes, and allowing himself to be prepared. Inwardly he raged at the indignity of this humiliation, but he knew that he had no choice, he had agreed, and would have to obey and get used to the restrictive sensual feel of feminine clothes. He knew that if the Warlord had his way, he would be wearing skirts and dresses for the rest of his life.

Just when he thought they were finished, the ladies adorned him in items of jewellery, long dangling earrings, rings and bracelets. They placed a delicate necklace around his pretty white neck, but to Altan it felt as heavy as Iron chains. They brushed his long straight blonde hair, and adorned it with dainty combs and a pink silk ribbon tied into a bow.

To make the humiliation worse, the women insisted that he learn behave as a lady, to learn how to walk and curtsey, as a true lady should. They enjoyed having Altan, the great enemy warrior, at their mercy, forcing him to wear women's clothes. They stood and watched as they made Altan, his face flushing with shame, practice a feminine curtsey, until he did it correctly, his delicate gloved hands lifting his beautiful silky dress as he slowly dipped, keeping his eyes demurely downcast. When he saw himself in a mirror, he was the image of a beautiful Imperial Princess. It was a very strange feeling to be forced to wear these clothes. He had always worn whatever he had wished, but now he knew the indignity of being female, and being forced to dress to please someone else.

The final humiliation was a wispy silken veil to cover his face. He realised that as a woman, he must obey the rules governing females. He must be timid, docile and ladylike, he must do whatever men required of him. Gone were the days when his voice would be heeded, now he would have no say, merely expected to keep quiet, and look pretty. As a man he had always thought that females should be soft, gentle and submissive, knowing their place. Slowly he fastened the veil in place, the very act destroying his determination to resist. When satisfied, the ladies took him to the Warlord.

When he had been captured, Altan had expected to be brought in chains before the Warlord, but he had never in his worst nightmares thought that he would be wearing the confining silky clothes of an Imperial Princess. He tried to keep his face impassive as he was led between the leering wolf whistling ranks of soldiers. He was determined not to show his shame and humiliation, but he was sure that his pretty new face was betraying his fear. The silk of his dress whispered and rubbed against the sheer stockings, and swirled sensually around his legs causing an erotic sensation inside him. Altan had never believed that such a humiliation was possible. One of the soldiers shouted a lurid comment about his voluptuous new body, whilst another managed to slap his bottom, making him jump with surprise.

Finally he arrived in front of the Warlord, where he was made to curtsey deeply, sinking into the billowing folds of his pink dress, to show his subjugation. His face blushing prettily with shame, he waited with his eyes down as he had been taught. The Warlord made him wait for a few humiliating moments, relishing in his enemy's utter defeat and humiliation. He wanted Altan to realise that he was helplessly female, before allowing him to rise.

Eventually, the warrior raised Altan up and nodded approvingly at his feminine posture, before taking Altan's wrist, and fastening on a beautiful gold bracelet. Altan could feel that the bracelet was magical, and guessed would stop him from ever attempting to harm the Warlord. He took Altan's hand, and gently kissed it, forcing him to adopt a feminine pose, enjoying the look of hate from his silk clad enemy. He then gestured for Altan to give a small feminine twirl to show off his feminine body and clothes to the audience. For a moment Altan wished he could kill the Warlord for making him suffer like this, but knowing that he had to obey, he obediently did as his master ordered. He felt his dress swirl out as he turned, before falling back to whisper and sigh silkily against his legs.

Finally the warrior drew him into close embrace, and to the cheers of his men, forced a passionate kiss on Altan's softly painted lips. Instinctively Altan started to struggle, but he was helpless, and was quickly forced to submit to the humiliation, his soft painted lips, and silk clad body pressed against the warrior. He soon realised that his new body was very petite, and he was forced to tilt his head backward in a most degradingly feminine way. He had been used to towering over everyone, but now he was tiny, a dainty, fragile plaything for the Warlord. The soldiers cheered, enjoying the sight of their enemy's humiliation.

Finally the Warlord released him, and ordered him to read out a statement to the assembly, confirming that he had voluntarily agreed to be changed into a female, and that he wanted to live as the Warlord's concubine.

He knew that such a statement would destroy his people's will to resist, their valiant leader willingly serving their enemies lustful desires as a female. He realised however that if he refused, they would all die horrible deaths, surely this was better.

As the assembly ended, the Warlord announced to the cheers of the warriors, that he would await the Princess in his bedroom, where she could demonstrate her full compliance.

Altan knew what the man would demand, he would force him to have sex, to demonstrate that he would live as the warrior's concubine. For a moment, sheer horror made him consider refusing, but he knew that if he failed to please the Warlord, he would consider his word broken, and thousands would die. He had no choice, he would have to do as his master ordered, to dress and behave as a female.

He was taken to another room, where he was expecting to be given something to wear. But to his shame, the harem girls made him pick an item of lingerie. His face burning with shame, he grabbed the first item that came to hand, a black lacy basque. The harem girls stripped off his gown, and then dressed him in the seductive black silk basque and elbow length black silk gloves. He tried not to think about what he was about to do, as they touched up the make up on his face.

The two ladies relished watching Altan being forced to pick lingerie to wear. They mocked him, and asked him what it had been like to be a mighty warrior. They took great pleasure in dressing him up in the lingerie, and delighted in telling him how pretty and feminine he looked, and how the Warlord would enjoy him. The women took a long time over his hair and makeup, they wanted him to experience fully what it was to be a female. They knew that the Warlord would want him to be perfumed and pretty, wearing the most luxurious silken lingerie, and that he dared not refuse. He tried to remind himself that he was a noble warrior, who had sworn to give his life to protect his people, surely this was no different?

When the ladies had finished, they made him examine himself in the mirror. He could saw a pretty young girl with a perfect body, dressed in sensual lingerie. It was so humiliating to be so helpless, to be forced not, only to endure this humiliation, but to cooperate.

The ladies then escorted him to the Warlord's room. He nervously entered the Warlord's room, to see the Warlord reclining on a large bed, awaiting him. He felt very naked and defenceless in the thin lacy basque, he wanted to cover himself, to hide his body from the man.

The warrior beckoned him closer, and he slowly crossed the room. He could feel the straps running over his body, the lacy suspenders tight against the smooth skin of his legs, and the delicate straps of his black lace and silk basque. He could feel the cool silk of the basque rippling over his body, and holding his pert breasts upright, supporting them in a cup of sensuous silk. As he walked, the sheer silken stockings shimmered sensually over his legs, the lacy tops rubbing the soft skin inside his thigh. He could feel himself blushing at the shame of appearing before the Warlord in feminine lingerie.

He took a deep breath, and slowly crawled up the bed to the recumbent warrior, silk stockings rubbing on his legs, his body covered in seductive feminine lingerie. He braced himself for what the warrior might do, knowing that the survival of his people depended on him. The Warlord smiled at his victory and lay back, gesturing toward his manhood to his helpless victim.

Knowing that if he paused, he wouldn't be able to continue, he reached up with his elbow length silk gloves, and began to undo the Warlord's trousers. A soft sigh of victory came from the warrior, and a large bulge began to form. Hating himself, Altan slipped a hand down into the man's trousers, and gently drew out the erect organ. Blushing with shame, he slowly began to caress it, running his long silky fingers up and down, lingering around the tip. The organ grew further, and the man began to slowly move. The shame of his plight was overwhelming, this was not fair, he was a man. How could he be expected to wear feminine lingerie, and to behave as a maiden? As he knelt astride the man, clad in a frilly silk and lace basque, caressing his manhood, the full horror of the situation crashed onto him.

The warrior gestured casually, and knowing and dreading what the Warlord expected him to do, Altan slowly moved his head down. He paused for a moment, knowing that if he did this, then he was accepting his utter defeat. For a moment he wavered, but then he slowly kissed the man's shaft, his tongue licking the tip. He could not believe that he was doing this. He was totally submitting to his enemy, acting as a female, caressing his manhood with his tongue. It was humiliating to be forced to do this, but he had no choice, if he refused, then everyone he knew would die. Slowly he accepted the warrior's manhood into his mouth, his long blonde hair falling from his shoulders onto the man's loins. He felt the shaft pass slowly over his soft painted lips, the feel and taste of make-up quickly replaced by the taste of the man's organ. His tongue began to slowly move over the tip of the fighter's manhood. He could taste the man's organ, and could feel it moving in his mouth. His face was burning with shame as the Fighters hands moved into the rich hair that fell over him, running his fingers through it and Altan's dangling earrings, and moving the girl's head up and down his shaft, controlling and dominating her.

Altan knew he was being forced to perform the ultimate act of humiliating submission of the female to the male; kneeling in silken lingerie before the Warlord, and worshipping at his manhood. Nothing could possibly be more humiliating. No other man had ever suffered this kind of defeat, yet he had no choice, but to continue if he wanted to save his people. He could feel the sensuous silk lingerie, taut over his feminine form as he caressed the tip of the huge shaft with his tongue, moving slowly up and down.

Unable to continue with his mouth, Altan moved up and knelt astride the warrior, so that the man's shaft was directly between Altan's stockinged legs. Gently he continued to stroke the man with his silky gloved fingers, trying to guess what he liked. Continuing to caress his manhood, Altan wantonly began to rub the shaft between his own open legs, gyrating his hips along it, pretending that he was burning for the man to take him. He knew that he had to behave as a female, and hoped against hope that the warrior would not want more.

Altan gritted his teeth, and blushed with humiliation as the warrior slowly moved his rough hands up and down Altan's basque covered body, rubbing the silky, sensual material against his curved body, lingering at the lacy suspenders and stockings, humiliating, and forcing Altan to remember what he was wearing. The feeling of the warrior's strong masculine hands on his soft supple body was terrible, it made him feel utterly helpless, and it forced him to acknowledge, as they slowly explored him, that he wore a woman's body.

Altan forced himself to smile defiantly, as the warrior's hands moved up to caress his ample breasts through the silk. He was determined not to show the Warlord the depths of his horror. Slowly the man rubbed the silk of the basque over his breasts, moving around them, outlining their pert feminine shape to his helpless victim. The man's hands felt strong and rough as they slipped inside the lingerie. Altan's shapely new breasts fell heavily into the man's hands, and they were supported and gently squeezed. The warrior cupped and lifted his heavy breasts, enjoying their pert feminine shape.

It was a strange feeling to have large feminine breasts, they were very sensitive and erogenous, much more so than he had expected. The warrior slowly massaged his breasts inside the sensual feminine lingerie. It was a very foreign and erotic feeling to have his breasts lying in the man's hands, he felt as if he was completely in the man's power, absolutely helpless. They were feelings that he had never experienced as a male. He found it difficult to cope with the strange feminine appetites that flooded through him. He desperately wanted to stop the warrior, but he knew that if he did anything to annoy the Warlord, his people would pay dearly. He realised the helplessness of being a female, he was forced to watch powerless, as the man's hand slowly squeezed his new breasts, making his nipples grow until they stood out sharply, the female body betraying him by responding to the man's touch. Altan closed his eyes, and continued to caress the manhood, as the warrior began to play with his erect nipples, squeezing and caressing through the silk covered skin.

The man smiled and took Altan's petite feminine hands, and forced him to feel the silk and lace covered breasts, forcing him to recognise his own female form and his delicate feminine lingerie. His new feminine breasts were soft and sumptuous, and covered in the smoothest silk lingerie. Utterly humiliated, his fingers slowly moved over the lace that ran over the top of his breasts.

He was caressing his own breasts, when the warrior began to fondle him between the legs. The hand slid slowly inside Altan's silken panties, gently stroking the soft hair. It took all of Altan's will not to scream as the warrior teasingly began to run a finger along the wetness of his new maidenhood, watching him to see his reaction. The man's other hand, slowly caressed the skin inside Altan's thigh, teasingly rubbing the lacy strap of the suspenders against his leg. Altan felt himself trembling, and he tried desperately to distract the man with shameless, passionate kisses. But slowly, one finger parted his lips, and moved inside him, forcing a horrified gasp out of the feminine body.

Altan shuddered as his mind exploded with the purely feminine feeling of having someone inside him. This can't be happening he thought hysterically. He could feel the man's hand, hard between his legs. The man's finger moved slowly inside him, caressing as it slowly explored the ridges and folds inside the girl, experimenting to find the most sensitive areas. As a man, this could never have happened to him, but now he was female he was forced to endure the humiliation. He had to do this he told himself, thousands of lives depended on him, but he was ashamed that he could not stop himself making soft feminine gasps as the warrior touched him. He could see the Warlord smiling, watching his reaction. He knew that every noise he made gave the Warlord pleasure. Altan closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that this was not happening, but he could not ignore the gentle, relentless touch of the warrior inside him, forcing him to accept his new maidenhood.

The Warlord knew how to affect the female body, and he slowly began to move his finger over the small nub. Altan was stunned by the level of feeling it caused, nothing had prepared him for this. The warrior continued fondling him, until Altan was helplessly writhing and squirming on the end of the man's finger, his breath coming in moans and ragged gasps, unable to maintain control over his rebellious female body. He hated that the warrior could do this to him, to violate him in such a way, to force him to experience such terrible feminine rapture.

As the feelings grew, he closed his eyes, and threw his head back. He could feel his long delicate earrings tapping against his attractive white neck. His long blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, and ran down his back, covering the tiny buttons of his silky lace basque. He could feel the warriors other hand caressing his breast, and the whispered voice mocking him. Every feeling from his body was feminine, overwhelming his mind.

The warrior enjoyed watching his former enemy's lithe silk clad feminine form writhe against his hand, unable to resist, forced to experience utterly feminine bliss.

Suddenly Altan felt the warrior draw his frilly panties down over his legs, a soft rasp of black silk and lace over soft white skin, exposing the triangle of velvety hair. He whimpered softly, he felt helpless, unable to resist, realising that the moment of ultimate defeat had come. The warrior lifted him slightly by his curved hips, and then lowered him onto the huge erect shaft. He could feel himself growing inside to take the man, as the organ touched him.

He felt the huge head of the organ as the warrior moved it gently against the wetness of his maidenhood. His feminine lips were incredibly sensitive, and he shivered at the alien erotic feelings. For a moment the Warlord held him there, moving him poised above the shaft, caressing his cleft with the head, enjoying this moment of ultimate victory. Then slowly he lowered Altan, gently opening the girl's lips. Altan moaned as his lips were teasingly parted by the head of the man's shaft. He felt himself opened by the huge organ, his maidenhood pulsating, as the warrior moved slowly inside him.

Altan felt the organ move up inside him, penetrating him. The shaft moved, thrusting over his tender lips. It seemed endless, rasping over his maidenhood, filling him completely. It was a terrible feeling of being totally dominated as the warrior penetrated him, thrusting the shaft deep inside the helpless girl.

"Ohhh," gasped Altan, unable to suppress the cry as the warrior pushed inside. The man felt so enormous inside him, opening him fully. He could feel the shaft deep inside him, moving slowly over his sensitive lips, penetrating to his innermost sanctum. He could feel it deep inside, filling him, rubbing against sensitive spots, making him gasp with unwelcome ecstasy. He felt skewered by the man's enormous shaft.

Part of his will broke as the Warlord took him, thrusting hard inside, penetrating him deeply, and violating his body. It was a moment of pure conquest and shame, he was utterly defeated in a way no other man had ever been. He was being raped, it was the ultimate defeat, something that could only happen to a woman. He felt utterly defenceless, realising that this was something that was going to happen to him for the rest of his life. The Warlord began to move, thrusting slowly at first, but then moving faster, each thrust forcing Altan to accept his destiny as a female. He could feel the man unbelievably deep inside him, filling him, and opening places and feelings inside that no man should ever have to experience. He could feel the shaft as it ran over his lips, and moved up inside, but all he could do was make soft feminine gasps and whimpers, as his breath was stolen. He knelt astride the man, his mind utterly numb from the sensual feelings. He could feel the man's hands holding him possessively on his buttocks, moving him over the shaft, and squeezing passionately. He could feel the man's hands holding him through the lacy silk of the basque, and the eroticism of his sheer lacy stockings and suspenders enveloping his legs. He was forced to admit the full horror of his situation; that he was a female, was wearing feminine clothes and was being ravished by a man. As a female, he belonged to the Warlord, and was expected to do anything he asked.

"Yes," he heard the Warlord whisper. "How does it feel? You are mine, I can do this to you whenever I choose. You're just a female. Give me pleasure whore, and I might reward you."

Altan flushed with shame, and tried to turn away. But he was seized, and a kiss was forced on his helpless lips. The man was too strong to resist, and he was compelled to accept the man's kisses, the man's tongue penetrating his mouth, as the organ penetrated his maidenhood. The warrior seemed to be all over him, his organ and tongue penetrating, his hands caressing and fondling. He gasped at the violating penetrations unable to fully believe what was happening to him.

He had not realised what he had sworn. He had never believed that this was possible. He knew that this was the only thing that could possibly break his will and spirit. As a man he had been safe in the knowledge that he was his own master, and his body was his own, but now he had a female body, he was vulnerable. He could have resisted torture, but having someone inside him was like nothing he had ever known as a man, it destroyed his will and made him feel like the terrified girl whose body he now wore. His voluptuous body tingled with feminine feelings, though he felt utterly horrified by having his body violated by his enemy. He knelt astride the warrior, the manhood deep inside him, his body covered by black lacy silk.

He could feel the man's hands moving over the silky stockings, rubbing the inside of his thigh. The warrior pushed him down on the shaft, making him cry out helplessly. He felt a terrible titillation as he was penetrated and opened by the erect organ. He moved slightly, feeling the organ caress his tender maidenhood, knowing helplessly the full sensuality of being a female.

The Warlord smiled as he saw the look of anguish on his enemy's face. This was the ultimate defeat! Altan was completely helpless and humiliated, utterly emasculated. He would force Altan, the great warrior to live as a female doomed to wait on his every sexual wish. Altan would be compelled to make himself as feminine and seductive as possible, knowing his entire country depended on it. How terrible it would be, to every day have to dress himself women's silken clothing, forced to wear luxurious feminine lingerie and tight, slinky dresses. Every day, to have to attempt to please his worst enemy by behaving as a female, and obeying his every sexual desire.

The Warlord found the thought of raping Altan, making him moan with female bliss, very erotic. His throbbing shaft pushed deep inside the girl, causing her to cry out. He moved slowly inside her, exploring her, knowing how humiliating this must be. He slowly pulled the thin straps of the basque down over Altan's shoulders, exposing the firm ripe breasts. Luxuriating in his victory, and knowing Altan had to do anything he asked, he took the girls delicate hands, and made her run them through her own long blonde hair, whilst he took a breast in each hand, and continued to thrust inside Altan's silky legs. His sheer dominance over the helpless Altan aroused him like nothing had ever before. The thought of Altan spending the rest of his life as his female sex slave was very arousing.

Altan's hands ran through his silken long blonde hair, utterly unresisting, his breasts open and erect for the man, his maidenhood fully penetrated. The terrible depth of feelings coming from his body shattered his will. The man highlighting fully his feminine form, completely dominating the girl. He gasped again as the man pushed inside him, unable to control himself, the shaft pulsing and throbbing inside him, tickling him, raping him. He raised up and then thrust down again, feeling it slip smoothly inside him, rasping over his lips, sending a quiver through him. He was horrified at the level of feeling it caused. The feelings that swept over him were far more powerful than any he had experienced as a man. The man continued to hold his large breasts, slowly fondling him, his skilled hands controlling him, manipulating, and causing his nipples to grow and flower. There was no way he could pretend to himself now, that he was still a man. He was kneeling astride his enemy, dressed in a lacy silk basque, acting like a harem pleasure slave. He was a helpless, facing a life where he was forced to behave as a maiden, eagerly fulfilling his master's sensual desires.

He realised that this was the ultimate shameful defeat that normally only female experienced, their bodies violated and raped. He would spend the rest of his life as a female, being a sex slave to the warrior, forced to wear whatever silky, confining and delicate female clothes he was ordered to. He knew that he would be forced to have sex and become pregnant, bearing children for his master and husband. He knew that his enemy would enjoy humiliating him, and would make his entire life as feminine as possible. His life would be comfortable, and he would be treated well, but he would always be a female, doomed to spend his life wearing silken lingerie, skirts and dresses, and serving his master's every lustful whim.

Cowed, he slumped forward, his ripe female breasts hanging invitingly over the warrior, who eagerly began to suck on them, nibbling Altan's erect sensitive nipples. Altan was shocked to find the erotic feeling this caused inside of him.

With a sudden movement, the Warlord rolled him onto his back, and ordered Altan to spread his legs. Utterly humiliated, Altan was forced to obey, opening his legs, allowing the man inside, voluntarily allowing the man to ravish him.

It was terrible lying on his back with his legs spread wide open, he felt totally vulnerable. It was a uniquely feminine position, completely submitting to the male's dominance. The man moved up to place his manhood between Altan's legs, pushing them further open, and quickly thrusting inside him. Altan gasped as the man mounted him, the shaft penetrating him deeply. Dominated, Altan didn't dare attempt to stop the warrior. He felt the shaft move over his lips, pushing inside; passions shot through his body, he was experiencing utterly female desires. Altan wrapped his silk stocking legs around the man, trying to block out the feelings, but the feeling of his legs encased in the sheerest, silkiest stockings was an erotic feeling more than he could bear. Everything he did seemed to highlight his femininity. Altan realised how vulnerable women felt; with his legs spread wide open for the man, he was allowing him access to the females most private area.

He could feel the weight of the Warlord on top of him, holding him down as he moved between his silky legs. He could feel the full feminine sensations of having a man's weight on top of him, and a masculine body between his legs, rubbing against his suspenders, the muscles rippling, as the male rode him.

Altan looked up and saw mirrors on the ceiling. He could see himself lying helpless on his back, arms above his head, wearing the seductive black lacy silk basque and silky stockings, his legs apart, as the man continued to rhythmically thrust deep between his legs, his hands caressing Altan's gorgeous breasts. He felt a sudden thrill of titillation shoot through his body as he watched the erotic scene. He could not hide the fact from himself that the feminine sexual feelings coming from his new body were overwhelming his will. He could feel the sensual feminine clothes encasing his body and he gasped as the man pushed hard inside him forcing his legs open further. He could see the girl in the mirror, moaning with ecstasy as the man thrust, her arms outstretched, gripping the bed. The man lent over and kissed the unresisting moist, painted lips, enjoying the full delights of the young girl's flawless body.

The humiliation of being raped by his ultimate enemy made him close his eyes with shame. What had he done? How could he allow this to happen to him? Altan could not believe what he had agreed to. He could feel the man's hot breath as his soft painted lips, and delicate neck were kissed. The shaft continued to thrust up inside him, exploring his female form, massaging his cleft, and forcing moans of unwilling rapture from his soft feminine lips. He his maidenhood felt incredible, the feeling making him squirm and writhe against the man. He realised that the Warlord would keep him like this for the rest of his life, ravishing his body, forcing him to live the soft, gentle life of a woman. He was afraid that after this he would be unable to resist any longer, he would become a compliant slave, his female body eagerly serving the warrior.

Horrified with this thought, he tried to struggle, to close his legs. He knew he had to stop this or be lost forever. He could not suffer this, not even to save his people. He tried to close his legs, but he was unable to move the man wedged between his silky stockinged legs. The warrior reached up and grabbed Altan's delicate wrists, easily pinning his weak feminine arms to the bed with one hand, physically dominating the girl. Altan began to panic, he had to stop this. He struggled wildly, desperately trying with all his strength to break free, but it was hopeless. It was utterly humiliating to be so totally helpless, unable to prevent the man from doing this to him, forcing him to experience these feelings. The man was much stronger, and could do anything he wanted, and Altan was unable to stop him. Altan could feel female panic inside him, he now realised the helplessness of being female, unable to stop the man.

The Warlord continued to thrust easily inside Altan's legs, rubbing against the silky legs, enjoying the girl's feminine whimpers and struggles, his weight pinning Altan to the bed. He playfully kissed the full round painted lips, and the soft skin of the young girl's neck, nibbling at an earlobe. His free hand caressed Altan's luscious breasts, squeezing and rubbing, as he enjoyed his complete dominance over the young girl. The warrior was enjoying everything that the luscious feminine body had to offer. He was revelling in his masculine superiority, as the female body writhed and struggled under him.

Altan could feel the organ inside him, thrusting deeply, and rubbing against his nub. His struggles seemed to merely highlight the rapture coming from his body. Altan felt utterly helpless and humiliated, he was unable to stop the fighter from doing anything he wanted. He realised that rape was the ultimate defeat, he was trapped inside the body of a female, his will meant nothing. He realised the trap into which he had fallen. He knew that even if he told the warrior that he had changed his mind, he would still be raped, and forced to live his life as a dominated and helpless female pleasure slave, a pleasure slave whose only job was to satisfy her master's lustful desires. Nothing he could do would stop the man from enjoying his ripe feminine body. He could feel the warrior between his legs, rubbing against the silk of his stockings and the lace of his suspenders as he continued to thrust inside. As he struggled, he could feel the shaft deep inside him, filling him completely, the head rubbing sensually against his nub, making him squirm with involuntary delight. As he writhed around the shaft, the organ continued to massage his nub, making him cry with forced feminine rapture, overwhelming his resistance. The more he struggled, the more intense the feelings became, the organ deep inside him was a weapon against which he had no defence.

Slowly his futile resistance failed, and he lay under the man, dressed in the slinky silk lingerie, the throbbing shaft running in and out of his cleft. He was penetrated fully, the head rubbing up against the nub inside him, causing waves of involuntary pleasure to wash over him. He could feel the shaft as in ran over his sensitive lips, rubbing against him, massaging his cleft. It was deep inside him, utterly dominating.

There was no resistance, as the warrior caressed his breasts, fondling them as his shaft rubbed against the small nub deep inside the girl, filling her womanhood, fulfilling her female body, and destroying her will. Altan's new female body was responding eagerly to the man's penetrations, destroying his attempt to resist Altan moaned with pleasure, no longer struggling, unable to stop his rebellious feminine body from responding to the warrior's caress.

"Mmm," whispered the warrior, "you like that don't you."

The shame was terrible, but worse was the realisation that the man was right, he did like it. He had been taught how to resist torture, but the endless pleasure coming from his feminine body could defeat him. His resistance had failed, shame and the feelings from his new body had overcome him. He found himself helplessly responding to the warrior, returning the kisses, and accepting the man's tongue inside his mouth. He could feel the man's lips pressed against his full moist painted lips, the feel of the makeup on his pretty young face humiliating him further. Unable to stop himself, his hips began to thrust with the man, multiplying the feeling as he squirmed on the man's colossal shaft. The knowledge and feeling of the feminine lingerie turning him on more than he wanted to admit. He could feel the lingerie all over his ripe female body, a purely feminine feeling of frills, silk and lace, that combined with the makeup, perfume and jewellery made his head spin.

Every part of his body seemed to be covered in silk. He could feel his legs encased in the silky stockings, with lacy straps running tight up his thighs.

His silk covered legs felt wonderful, rubbing sensuously against the muscled warrior as he moved up and down, thrusting deeply inside the girl. He wriggled his toes, inside the fine mesh, luxuriating in the forbidden erotically feminine feeling. It tickled his feet slightly as he moved, and he could feel the lacy tops of the stockings encircling his thighs. The fighter's tongue flicked inside Altan's mouth, mimicking the man's organ, as it slowly explored Altan's new, deliciously feminine body.

Altan told himself that his new body was simply far too weak to make any attempt to stop the man. He was totally helpless, forced to lie there, no longer resisting, legs spread wide open, experiencing the full range of feminine bliss as the warrior rode him and moved toward his climax. The warrior released his arms, and took a breast in each hand. Altan's silk clad body lay under the man, as he moved inside him. He could feel the man's muscular body pressed against him, only the slinky silk of his basque between their naked bodies. The humiliation of having the Warlord deep inside him, in complete possession of his body was appalling, but there was also a strange titillation. He knew that he was powerless, and was going to spend the rest of his life serving the Warlord's pleasure and he found the thought disturbingly erotic. He could not help but gasp as the area between his legs overwhelmed him with ecstasy.

The man grasped Altan tightly by the buttocks making him gasp with surprise, it emphasised the warrior's complete dominance. The Warlord began to thrust more urgently, lifting Altan to get deeper inside the girl's body. Gasping, Altan looked up at the mirrors. He could see the warrior kissing the girl's full round painted lips, enjoying all of the helpless feminine body. The man knelt between the open stockinged legs, lifting the girl by the buttocks, and thrusting hard inside her. The girl was gasping with helpless rapture as the man rode her. Her silk clad body was wriggling and squirming under the dominant man's penetrations. Altan's hands involuntarily began to run over the lacy basque covering his new breasts, gasping as the man thrust deeply inside him. He could feel his new soft sensual body, under the silk;

The lace edging of his basque running delicately over his breasts; The wonderful luxurious feeling of his legs encased in the smoothest silk, rubbing against the man as he thrust. He felt delicate, feminine, and helpless.

Altan gasped, tensed and cried out as the feelings simply got too much, and his new body was pushed into orgasm. His entire world seemed to shrink down to the urgent, thrusting organ of the man between his legs. He could feel it ramming in and out of his cleft, a rhythmic unstoppable force that was moving his whole silkily feminine body up the bed. He could sense the erotic feeling of the lacy basque on his body, tightly covering him, moving silkily over his curved feminine body. The suspenders, taut lines of silky lace running down his legs, connected to gossamer silk of the stockings covering his legs. They rubbed sensually against his skin as the man thrust between his open legs, the feelings seducing him, effortlessly destroying his will as the man rode him toward his climax.

He was being ravished, as a woman he was unable to stop the man, his body was open whenever the man wanted him. He found the thought of being a helpless female, forced to wear beautiful sensual silks, skirts, dresses and being dominated and raped surprisingly erotic. He realised to his dismay, that he was enjoying these feelings. He could feel the man moving between his legs, pushing against his suspenders. The shaft thrust inside him, rubbing and throbbing, giving him ecstasy he had could not have imagined. He found himself moving around the shaft, trying to satisfy a hunger, he had never believed possible.

He was out of control, his female body responding to the man. He opened his legs wider, utterly dominated now, squirming around the plunging manhood, thrusting with it, wanting the man and trying to get him deeper inside. He could feel the manhood pushing deep inside his feminine cleft, fulfilling him. He knew that only a dominant man's shaft inside could truly satisfy his new desires. He desperately needed the man to take him, to ravish and fulfil him.

"Please, Oh please," he moaned, not knowing whether he was begging the warrior to stop or crying for him to continue. He was totally helpless, his entire feminine body was serving the warrior, two hot, wet bodies moving together.

Suddenly the warrior moaned and climaxed inside him. He could feel the man's seed flowing into his fertile female body, totally dominated he could only submit to the titillating humiliation.

For a moment they lay gasping together, the warrior's weight on Altan, and his throbbing but shrinking organ still inside. Slowly the warrior withdrew, giving Altan a final moment of feeling. He rolled over, pulling Altan, unresisting, to him. Altan lay in the fighters muscled arm, his head on the hairy chest, his eyes closed. The Warlord's rough hand cupping his breast, gently caressing, one finger playing with his nipple.

As Altan's mind cleared slightly from the feminine passions, he tried to pretend that it hadn't happened, that he had not enjoyed it, but the echoes of sensual rapture, and the feminine wetness between his smooth slender legs told him otherwise. He knew that he had been utterly vanquished, not only had his armies been defeated, but he himself had suffered the ultimate defeat. He was nothing more than a woman now, no power, strength or rights. He had unwittingly agreed to be changed into a female, and he had allowed himself to be given to the Warlord. His body was owned now by the warrior. Anytime the man wanted he could take him, rape him if he resisted. After what had just happened though, he did not know whether he could resist. He knew he had female desires now, he hated to admit it, but he could feel his female body wanting the man to hold him like this, and to do it all to him again.

He moved slightly, enjoying the slippery feeling of the silk over his body. He was lying in his ultimate enemy's arms, in a female body, wearing a seductive black silken basque and stockings, having just completely surrendered to his new femininity. He found the thought a contradiction of humiliation and titillation.

The warrior's hand gently cupped his breast, massaging it with the silk of the basque, moving the material around the curved shape forcing an unwilling but appreciative murmur from Altan's softly painted lips.

Altan realised that in time he would come to enjoy wearing female clothes, being constrained by bra, bodice and petticoat. As a man he had never known that clothes could feel so beautiful. The tightness of his basque running over the contours of his new body, and the feel of suspenders and stockings encasing his legs as he rubbed them together, made him breathless. It was almost worth being a female to wear clothes like this. All female clothes were impractical, the tightness of the basque and bodice, to the frills, lace and silk of long dresses. They were all designed to make the female appear helpless and weak. They constrained the body, so that women were forced to be graceful and delicate in their movements, to need male assistance.

This was his fate, he thought dreamily, the mighty warrior would spend the rest of his life wearing lingerie, pink silky dresses and make-up. He knew that he would have to dress to please his master, he would have to make himself look pretty and desirable, to wear seductive underwear and lingerie.

He thought of all the ladies' clothes he had seen, imagining himself wearing them. Tight slinky dresses with short revealing skirts that displayed a curved voluptuous form, and ample cleavage. Soft luxurious gowns, with flowing silk skirts, and lacy petticoats that swirl around the legs, forcing the wearer to be graceful, and to delicately gather up their skirts as they walk. Tight bodices, and large bustles that force them to behave in that certain feminine way, and to experience the feel of silk on their soft skin all day, every day. He didn't want to admit to himself, but he knew that deep inside, he wanted to be helpless, to be made to wear women's clothes. The thought of having his body swathed in rose pink silk, and lacy lingerie was particularly enticing. He wanted to spend the rest of his life in dresses, and skirts, living a feminine life. He ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the make up. He thought of the bra he had worn, knowing how wonderful it had felt over his soft breasts, the feeling of his large feminine breasts lying snugly in a sensuous cup of pure silk. The straps of his bra and suspenders binding him, stockings running sensually up his legs, making him helplessly feminine. He squirmed in the man's strong dominant arms, relishing the feeling of his new clothes, rubbing his silky legs together, and fantasising of the warrior's rough hands running over his lace covered body.

With a start, he realised that he had turned himself on with the thoughts, and was experiencing another orgasm. He knew that this was the final defeat. He would be dominated, by men, accepting his place as a female whose only responsibility was to look pretty and bear children. Soon he would think nothing of dressing up in lingerie, wanting the man to dominate and rape him, enjoying it and begging for it again. He found it difficult to even think of himself as a man now, his body was that of a female, and he was overwhelmed by feminine feelings.

Suddenly the man got up and began to dress, leaving Altan lying on the bed.

"Dress yourself in those," he ordered pointing to some feminine silks, "I'll send someone for you." He pulled the Altan off the bed, and forced a passionate kiss on Altan's helpless, but not totally unwilling lips, before releasing him and leaving.

CHAPTER TWO

As the warlord left, the harem girls returned, giving knowing smiles at the sight of the disorderly lingerie over his body. Altan flushed with embarrassment, at the ladies' remarks, about what he had done, and his feminine form. They ordered him to dress in the silks, and Altan didn't dare disobey, and immediately began to dress.

The clothes were those of a harem pleasure slave. He examined the silky material, and realised that it was virtually see through. The clothes left nothing to the imagination, totally displaying his delicate feminine form. His breasts were lifted to show them at their fullest, and the nipples showed through the filmy material. A length of sheer silk hung down from a bow on his back, and swished pleasantly around his silk covered legs. It was humiliating to be forced to display himself so flagrantly. When dressed, they began to slowly to apply make up. The lip brush gradually turned his lips red, and he could feel the carmine rouge sinking into his full lips. Blusher enhanced his already pink cheeks, and mascara and eye shadow made his green eyes even more striking. They then painted his long nails a bright red, as a slave girl should. He slowly attached a filmy rose pink silk veil over his face The soft wispy material lay over his nose, with just his soft green eyes showing over the top, making him look both demure and seductive. He was made to wear a lot of jewellery, which tinkled as he moved.

When finished, they made him examine himself in a full-length mirror before being taken to his master. He saw a beautiful, but petite green-eyed blonde girl, with long hair and a sensuous body. Jewels sparkled on her hands and arms, and swelling curves of her breasts rose and fell beneath the filmy material that swathed her body. It was a body that was as beautiful and feminine as it was helpless and available.

He touched himself on his silk covered breast, remembering the rough hands of the warrior stroking and caressing. Despite himself, he found that he enjoyed the feeling of the silks whispering against him as he moved, his female body felt very sexy and sensuous.

The ladies took him to the main chamber, where they fastened a gold collar on his neck. The collar was attached to a thin golden leash that the Warlord held, emphasising his dominance over his former enemy.

Altan was forced to lie beside the Warlord on satin pillows, scantily clad in the flimsy silks of a harem pleasure slave. He was made to perform the humiliating feminine tasks of a female pleasure slave, carefully manicuring and polishing the nails of his master's hand, feeding him with nuts and grapes, and allowing the warrior show his dominance. Altan knew that the Warlord was enjoying showing off his total dominance over his former enemy. An enemy that had not only been defeated in battle, but was now serving him as a helpless female concubine in his harem, forced to wear feminine silks and make-up. Who would dare oppose him, if this were their fate? No man would ever dare. He knew that he must not show any sign of resistance, or the warrior would consider the oath broken. Every one looked at him, enjoying the discomfort of their former enemy, and admiring the sensual body. The humiliation of being displayed to everyone in his new feminine form was appalling, but combined with the clothes that he was forced to wear, it was almost unbearable. His lovely face flushed prettily under his pink veil, and he only managed to bear it by thinking about the lives he was saving.

To the laughter of the men, the Warlord boasted that soon his entire harem would be made up of his defeated enemies. All changed to pretty petite girls, forced to satisfy his every desire.

The Warlord took great pleasure in forcing Altan to behave as a female, and to show his submission. He was compelled to satisfy the warrior, to be docile and to wait on his slightest whim. He was required to acknowledge himself as a female, and to answer to the name of Princess Elana. Since it was his duty to give the greatest pleasure possible to his master, he forced himself to smile and be submissive, to be grateful for the warrior's attentions, and to run his hands over the warrior's muscular body stroking and massaging.

His soft luscious breasts were constantly caressed and fondled, through his filmy silk camisole, and the warrior's rough hands were never far from the soft skin inside his thighs, inflaming the desires of his female body.

The Warlord enjoyed fondling his helpless enemy in front of all the guests, emphasising his total supremacy, and humiliating Altan. The very thought of Altan, the great warrior, forced to wear the silken feminine clothes of a harem pleasure slave, aroused him. He ran his hands over the perfect silk clad body, lingering around the breasts, enjoying the luscious and helpless feminine body. He enjoyed forcing Altan to behave as a female, humiliating him in front of the guests.

Altan did his best to perform in a feminine way. His body betraying him once more as he found to his horror, that he was enjoying the warrior's attentions to his girlish form. As he lay draped beside his master performing his female tasks, he found that he was enjoying being stroked, kissed and fondled, especially when it rubbed his silky feminine clothes over his soft skin. He found himself unconsciously responding to the warrior's touch, and behaving as a female. He knew that he should be resisting, but the warrior's touch seemed to inflame his desires, and destroy any thought of resistance. He told himself that he was just biding his time, and that there was nothing he could do at the moment, anyway.

Later, to Altan's horror, he was ordered to entertain the assembled warriors by dancing for them. They enjoyed the thought of their former enemy's humiliation at having to display his new feminine form to its fullest for their amusement. Trembling with fear and shame he began to slowly dance to the music, the silk bow swishing sensually around his legs as he moved. He tried to remember how his own pleasure slaves had danced, and managed to mimic their movements, dancing seductively, swaying sensuously in time with the music. As he danced, the men reached out to touch him. At first he was embarrassed and pulled away, but a look of displeasure on the Warlord face made him dance closer and flirt with them, allowing them to touch and stroke him.

The Warlord enjoyed the dancing, and kissed Altan passionately when he returned, rewarding him for his obedience by caressing his breast. Altan blushed with embarrassment as the assembled warriors cheered at the sight of his sexual defeat.

Late in the evening, he was sent away to prepare himself for his master's bed. He was taken by two harem girls back to his room, where they stripped him, and then dressed him in a beautiful full length, pure white silk and lace night-dress. He slipped the night-dress over his head, and felt the cool silk figure hugging dress whisper down his naked body. Two thin straps lay gracefully over his shoulders, and there was a low neckline of silky embroidered lace over his breasts. The back was very low, leaving his back completely bare except for the two thin crossing straps. As he walked, the cool silk rustled and murmured over his soft naked skin, moving around his legs. He was forced to admit to himself that he adored the feeling of the silk on his naked skin, and delighted in the way it moved over his legs as he walked.

He sat down, and the handmaids brushed his long blonde hair; he could feel it running over his shoulders. In the mirror, a beautiful young girl about eighteen years old looked back. Her straight blonde hair shone as it flowed over the thin straps of her night-dress on her elegant shoulders. She had exquisite green eyes that sparkled and glistened, and soft elegant lips. He could see the two swelling lumps, rising and falling under the silk. As a man he would have fallen in love with his new body in seconds, it was perfect in every way.

He realised that everything the warrior had done to him was designed to break his will, but he knew he could not resist the terrible seduction from his female body. It was humiliating to know that he had no choice but to dress to please his master, to wear make up and lingerie. All his life he had fought to defeat the Warlord, and now he would spend to rest of his life trying to give him the greatest pleasure.

When dressed, he was taken to his master's bedroom, and pushed inside. It was silent and dark inside, but he could make out the bed with a sleeping figure. Quietly he crossed the room, the slinky night-dress clinging and rippling over his body. He nervously pulled back the satin sheets, and crawled inside. He lay breathless, crouched almost in a ball on the edge of the bed, his heart pounding, hoping that the Warlord was asleep.

Then, like a bolt of electricity, he felt a hand touch his buttocks through the silk of his night-dress. Slowly a finger traced a line up his back, sending shivers up his spine. He trembled, sensing the man moving nearer, and then felt the hand move a lock of hair from his delicate neck. Slowly the man began to kiss his neck, trying gently to arouse his feminine desires. He tried to ignore the touch, but his body began to shiver uncontrollably. The hand slid down over the thin straps, to his lace covered breasts. For a moment they tenderly massaged him, through the pure silk of the night-dress, before moving down his firm young female body to his legs.

The man moved closer, pressing his muscular body against the girl. The slinky night-dress felt very thin, and Altan felt very feminine and defenceless in it. The silk seemed to touch every part of his female form, the sensual material forcing his awareness of his femininity. He could feel the man through the silk, his strong masculine body pressed against him, demanding, insistent. Altan's breath began to increase and he tried to resist, to tell himself that he was a man, but all the feelings coming from his rebellious new body were female. The hand slid up and down his legs, inflaming his body's female desires. He trembled under the man's expert touch. Finally it moved to the inside of his thigh, stoking the soft sensitive skin through the silk night-dress.

He felt himself weakening as the silk rubbed against him. The touch and feel of the silky feminine lingerie felt so sexual, that it seemed to have an almost will destroying effect on him.

"No, please," he whispered, "you mustn't". It his last hope, begging the Warlord not to do this to him, but the man's hand slid mercilessly between his legs, stroking his most private feminine area. He shivered, and moaned with involuntary delight, unable to contain himself.

"Oh, you like that, don't you," whispered the warrior. "Admit it."

Altan whimpered slightly as the finger moved inside him again, he knew he would not be able to resist, and was soon writhing on the man's finger.

He tried to close his legs, but he could still feel the man's hand caressing him gently. He felt the man kiss him tenderly. He was helpless, he could not fight back, and if he did his people would suffer. He had to surrender to the man, to do whatever he was commanded.

At last he could withstand no more, seduced by the feelings from his new body his will shattered. He turned his head and began to passionately kiss his master. His arms were around the warrior's neck, as he surrendered fully to his female desires. All thoughts of masculinity were gone in the tempest of feminine rapture that swept over him.

The Warlord covered Altan's face and neck with kisses, his hands moving over the girl's body, touching Altan where he knew he would like it. Altan couldn't help himself as his hands moved over his master's strong muscled back, his feminine body open to the man. He felt the Warlord push his hand up the inside of the slinky night-dress, lifting the night-dress up his female body, over the curved hips. All thoughts of resistance gone, Altan leaned forward, allowing the warrior to take the silky dress over his head, leaving him entirely naked and vulnerable. Altan lay back, as the Warlord moved on top of him. Willingly, he opened his long silky legs, wanting him inside, his hands groping for the manhood, meekly accepting the Warlord's total dominance as he lay under him.

With a single thrust the warrior was inside. Altan gasped a uniquely feminine sound as he was mounted, the organ deeply penetrating, his feelings were uncontrolled. For a moment he lay naked below the male, then he pushed back, doubling the feeling. The Warlord moved his hands to Altan's breasts, caressing him.

Altan was seduced by the feeling of his naked body under the Warlord, the feeling of a strong, dominant man thrusting hard between his legs, penetrating him fully, plunging inside him, ravishing him. His lips found the warrior, and they kissed deeply, Altan willingly accepting his tongue. He ran his hands over his hairy muscular chest, and the male's strong hands held his slender feminine form, feeling him all over.

He was submerged in the feeling of his femininity, of the man inside him and the satin sheets covering them both. His whole body tingled with the sensuality of it, the throbbing shaft running over sensitive lips, his maidenhood being fulfilled. Altan cried out with ecstasy as the head rubbed up against the small nub inside him, paralysing him with passion. He lay under the male, his hands above his head, unable to move, crying out as the warrior explored him. The Warlord's hands all over his breasts, his organ probing, moving deeper and deeper, leaving nothing untouched. The warrior knelt between Altan's legs, thrusting hard and deep inside the girl, each hand holding a sumptuous breast. Altan felt wonderful, the thrusting organ deep inside him, and the caressing hands fondling his luscious breasts, as he lay paralysed by the ecstasy of feeling. The Warlord kissed him deeply, and he returned the kisses with equal ardour, absolutely lost in his new femininity.

In part of Altan's mind he was detached still, but he felt helpless, he had been emasculated by his enemy, who had destroyed his manhood, and now was taking him, ravishing his body; the thought of his sexual defeat was very erotic. This is what the feminine feeling demanded, to live as a female, wearing slinky sensual feminine clothes, lingerie and tight dresses. The rest of his life, he would wear bras, basques and bodices to please his master's desires. He was immersed in the feeling of being sexually dominated, helpless and weak.

Suddenly the Warlord turned Altan around, and made him kneel with his back to the warrior. He could feel the man's organ hard against his buttocks, it felt huge and powerful. He felt the warriors hands move slowly up his back and over his curved body, caressing and fondling. With a quick thrust, the warrior entered his maidenhood from behind, forcing a feminine cry from Altan's lips. The man's hands moved under the naked girl's arms, lifting them to take a breast each. The Warlord held Altan firmly by the breasts, lifting and caressing, controlling her completely as he began to thrust deep up inside the girl, each thrust raising Altan. Altan could hear the Warlord whispering in his ear as he thrust, mocking him and commenting on his new femininity. Altan could not resist, the man seemed to be able to dominate him completely, simply by holding his breasts. He felt humiliated at being forced to kneel utterly naked, gasping helplessly as the warrior took him from behind. He could feel the enormous organ as it moved between his legs and rasped tantalisingly over his sensitive lips, before plunging deep inside him. He could feel the organ deep up inside him, rubbing against his nub as he knelt with his legs open. The shaft of the manhood rubbed against the lips of his maidenhood making him shiver with tormenting delight. The feeling of the warrior's masculine supremacy, the knowledge of what he was doing, made him sob helplessly.

The warrior thrust slowly, wanting to savour the emasculating victory over his enemy. He could feel his organ penetrating deeply, and the soft sumptuous breasts in his hands. He could feel Altan helplessly squirming, unable to escape from the humiliating sensuality of being taken as a female.

The warrior reached up, and grabbed Altan's long blonde hair, pulling it back so that he was forced to look into the eyes of the Warlord as he was degradingly raped.

Altan could feel the man's hot breath against his soft white neck as he panted, his body reaching orgasm. He heard the man cry out, as he peaked, his manhood pulsing and throbbing inside. He recognised the feeling of the male's seed flowing into him, fulfilling his female existence.

For a moment the man continued, but then his thrusts slowly subsided, until eventually he stopped and withdrew from the gasping feminine body.

Altan felt so humiliated at his submissive degradation. He could feel the wetness and the fondling touch of the man between his legs, and on his new female body.

As he lay back on the bed, the warrior ordered Altan to slip back into his night-dress. Altan obeyed, unable to defy the man's orders, but it was painfully humiliating to slip into the delicate silk night-dress in front of the Warlord. He felt the white silk dress slide and whisper down his body, settling gracefully over his voluptuous breasts.

The Warlord watched him dress himself in the luxurious silken night-dress, smiling at the obvious shame on Altan's pretty new face. He then gestured that Altan should return to the bed.

This was so degrading, it wasn't enough that he had been taken by the man, he would also have to share his bed dressed in utterly feminine lingerie. Even now, he wanted to resist, but the defeats of the day, and his recent total submission overwhelmed him, and he timidly slipped back into the Satin sheets.

He lay next to the muscled warrior, his silk covered body pressed close against him, unresisting in his strong masculine arms and, exhausted, eventually fell asleep.

(continued)

  

  

  

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