State Hospital South
Grove City, Idaho
Kruhl peered around, wide-eyed taking in her surroundings. She was in a room, much like the one in that place they called a hospital, but the walls were narrower, the decor more sparse, and fewer strange contraptions layed about. When she cupped her mouth with both hands, sweat dripped down her face and into her eyes.
She remembered now being brought to this world and a cold shiver worked its way down her spine at the revelation. The Nether Realm, a place said to exist both below and apart from the true world, a place of eternal torture and darkness. Somehow that didn’t seem right. Yes, this was a place of madness, but nothing about it fit what she’d been taught since childhood, but now that her memory returned to her, she believed that this must be another realm.
When they first formed their alliance, Reesha told Kruhl that amongst the aether there were many realms, some more like their own and some more like the Nether Realm. Could this be one such realm? Had Reesha sent her to the wrong world?
Perhaps, Odalrik was here too and that robed specter had been some strange incarnation of him, but why would it be so intent on finding the sword? Waldere was a powerful talisman, but it was not the weapon of a sorcerer. It’s magic was fickle only allowing those who possessed certain qualities to make use of its power and even then sometimes it would be of limited use. It had not saved him from Reesha or her sorcery. The sorceress was lucky to have caught Kruhl off guard and had the warrior king been given the opportunity to summon the energies of the blade the outcome would have been much different.
Kruhl brought her hands away from her mouth, realizing for the first time they’d removed her bindings from her arms. She peered down, discovering that the straps around her legs were also gone. She lurched to her feet, rushing toward the door, but if a means to open it existed, she did not find one. Neither did she have hopes of breaking it down. Its construction was as solid as the gates of Wurdanhom.
She turned away emitting a soft growl under her breath, fists clenched at her side. This place was another prison.
She glanced down at herself realizing that she no longer wore a gown, but a pair of sky-blue trousers and a strange white short-sleeve tunic that only extended two thumbs past her waist. Her breasts bulged out from the front of the garment, and the outline of her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. She cupped them and felt her cheeks grow warm. Startled she slid her hands up her face, confused to discover that they seemed hot.
She peered around, eyes searching for something through which she might see her reflection and found it across the room.
She’d seen a similar contraption called a sink in the hospital and moved toward it. This sink sat atop a steel pedestal from the lower front portion of which a basin full of water protruded. Such a strange contrivance, she mused, she’d seen the denizens of the hospital make use of the sink and knew it could be filled from the spout at its top, why then did it have this second source of water? She put a hand around the lip of the basin, peering inside. The smell from within was harsh, and reminiscent of lemons, but burned her nostrils.
She returned her attention to the sink, lifting the lever on the faucet and watching the liquid spill out. The aroma was absent, and she frowned unable to fathom the reason for the scent or the second basin affixed to the bottom of the pedestal. It was a mystery she supposed she would not yet be able to unravel.
She recalled again why she was there in the first place, her cheeks burning anew. Peering into the gleaming steel surface she frowned. The human face that looked back at her was younger than she’d expected, she bore the face of a woman a year or two out of girlhood, and she added… her cheeks looked a little red.
She’d once had a slave whose face would turn scarlet anytime she disrobed in front of her and now she believed she understood why. Kruhl bit her lip, eyes focused on the girl’s distorted face peering back at her. Attractive by human standards, her blonde hair spilled out of her head in a tangled mess framing a round face. Generous lips parted to reveal a row of perfect white pearls, a rare trait among his human slaves. A pair of luminous gold eyes peered back at him. That final trait was the only remaining one unique to the Assar and not humans.
It gave her a small measure of comfort to realize that something of her old self survived her transformation. Though the how or why puzzled her.
She peered at the reflection a moment longer and glanced down at her chest, realizing for the first time she’d yet to see herself naked in her human form. Though her stomach lurched at the very idea, she only hesitated a moment before she disrobed.
Kruhl pulled the tunic over her head, grunting and pulling harder when her breasts resisted the effort. When it came away, they bounced about on her chest, but she gritted her teeth choosing to ignore the uncomfortable sensation before turning her attention the trousers. She pulled on the waist band, discovered as she did so it stretched around her hips and shrank back when she pushed them down.
She reached down to get a better look at the trousers when her eyes caught sight of her new privates. Never having seen a human naked, it surprised her that her nether region would have hair, and when she slipped her hands between her legs, she found that it was coarse and bushy. She had bedded many Assar females in her day and had seen every nook and cranny of the female body. Aside from the lack of a fur coat and the obvious differences in the face shape and body size, they didn’t seem all that different. Of course, beholding female proportions was a fair bit different from having them.
Everything about her new body was foreign to her, the breasts being the most obvious, but as she peered down at her body, she felt bile rise in her throat. She held one hand up, flexing her long delicate fingers in front of her face and let a sob escape her lips. She trained her whole life, sculpting the body of a warrior, even in her forties she was among the strongest, and the most ferocious warriors. Now, she doubted she even possessed the strength to lift Waldere. How could she continue knowing what she had fought so hard to achieve was for naught?
All the confusion and frustration of the last few days came bursting out of her like a dam and the first time in as long as she could remember the girl who’d once been the warrior king known as Kruhl, fell to her knees, curled up into a ball and wept.
There are 2 comments
The reality emerges then. I suspect that a warrior king will eventually find the resolve to go forward with this, weakness and embarrassment be damned.
She has gone to the biggest, baddest badass to a tiny slip of a woman who can be overpowered by pretty much any other adult (and even a few children). Her ego has taken the mother of all bruisings and she has no idea to cope with her transformation. Worse yet, she been transported to an unfamiliar world and has no context with which to interpret her captors motives. She has a hard road a head of her, but maybe she’ll find her way through it.