The clock said 3:00, but Lucas had no idea if that meant AM or PM. He was adrift from the normal day/night cycle, unmoored from his circadian rhythm. Morning, evening, it didn’t really matter. He shambled out of a nest of pillows and blankets to slide into his well-worn office chair, clip the state-of-the-art headset on over his eyes and ears, and spend his waking hours pretending he was somewhere else.

Very few people knew more about MMOs than Lucas. His streaming channel and tutorial series brought him a modest income, enough to keep his small apartment’s kitchen stocked and the power on. That his livelihood was tied to living in these exciting alternate worlds didn’t escape his notice. It was what ate at the back of his mind, along with a dozen other lingering mental splinters he only picked at in moments of quiet reflection. Something he tried to avoid at all cost.

He scrolled through his character list of his latest obsession, admiring the outfits he’d picked out for each one. There were nine characters, all max level, all different classes, and all various shapes, sizes, and flavours of feminine. It was a long standing in-joke among his fans that he always played female characters. It wasn’t that he was trans or anything of course, he’d underline in his streams repeatedly for those asking and to people who weren’t, it’s that he liked the way they had more costuming options. As often as not, he wasn’t lying either. So many fun outfits to design with all the myriad dungeons and crafting mechanics available, it was almost a game in and of itself!

He wished life was like that, in a way. The ability to completely change your appearance to something else would be so much fun but...it just didn’t work like that. The mirrors that came with his apartment had long been covered up. Sometimes he thought of himself like a vampire, lacking a reflection. If only that were true.

A trio of knocks shook him from his reverie. He yanked off the headset in a hurry, stumbling over a stack of cardboard on his way to the door. Peering out the peephole, he saw nobody. Maybe a kid playing a prank, he reasoned, but decided to unlock the door and look out anyways. There, at the foot of his door, was a package.

As a mildly popular streamer, this wasn’t unprecedented. Sometimes he got a hat or a shirt or something from a dev or a marketing team, hoping for some positive coverage. Most of the time he ignored them.

“If I am going to sell my soul,” he muttered aloud, “it’s not gonna be for a funko pop.”

This one didn’t have any gaudy branding or garish logos. It was bland brown shipping paper, the kind his Grandma used to use to ship knitted scarves to him when he was a kid. He bent down to pick it up, but his initial effort left him straining. This wasn’t some shirt or a hunk of plastic in bubble wrap. With a grunt of effort he managed to lift it, crab-walking back into his apartment and dropping the heavy box onto the floor.

“The hell did they send me, gold bars?” he quipped, then made a mental note to add a line like that to his script somewhere. He could punch it up later. The wording had the right cadence but the punchline didn’t quite pop. The realization that he was workshopping his mail to himself hit him, and Lucas closed his eyes. He really did have Terminal Streamer Brain.

The box had stamps from all over the world on it. Either someone had fucked up and sent it around to the wrong direction a couple times, or someone had went to a lot of effort to hide its original sending address. Well, at least it wasn’t ticking.

A quick swipe with a boxcutter through the paper and another through the packing tape and he had the top open. A puff of packing peanuts spilled out onto the floor, others clinging to his fingers that he flicked off to pick up later. The first item he found was a black and white booklet.

‘Congratulations, and welcome to the exciting world of Castles and Conquest VR!’ its title page proclaimed. Now THAT was interesting! CaC was one of those projects most people considered vapourware: projects in perpetual development that would never be released. He’d made a couple listicles proclaiming as such for his channel, but there were always whispers that it was something more. He tore into the rest of the packaging, clearing it out to reveal a VR setup unlike anything he’d ever seen before!

It was pink, first of all, but a cool neon pink like some kinda cyberpunk sign. It was also much smaller than it should have been. Most VR rigs were dressed up combination ear phones and visor. This was little more than a headband. Little reflective nodes that looked kinda like gemstones were scattered throughout a weaving, branching silver design. If it didn’t weigh so much, he would have thought that it was some dollar store tiara.

He took a moment to pinch himself. This had to be a setup. Ever since VR exploded, there have been dozens of new systems that had promised the world, only to reveal it had been a scam or a stealth crypto miner or something else nefarious. Despite its weight, it could be little more than one of those janky nondescript VR sets in the game dev commercials. He wasn’t so entirely guileless, but the allure of being given an entire rig to test was pretty remarkable.

He read on: “You’ve been selected for the exclusive testing program of both this exciting new gaming experience and its revolutionary proprietary VR system. The Tactile, Image, and Audio Resonation Apparatus is no mere display device! It had the capability to project the game directly into your mind!”

Alarm bells went off again. Direct mind interaction stuff was supposed to be only in the prototype stage, right? How had they gotten access to it and put it in a video game, and why was it on his doorstep for free? It was a lot to handle. But, with a growing feral grin, he thought of how much his channel would blow up if he had the very first review of this. The sponsorships he could get...the bits! It might be enough to let him move to some place bigger, with a water heater that didn’t occasionally wake him up with the sound of the world ending or the sounds of loud arguments on the other side of his thin walls. Whatever stroke of luck or fate that had got him this chance, he was going to exploit it.

The rest of the box’s contents were cables, a set of adapters, a whole SSD, and an AC Adapter so large it looked like it belonged on a Soviet submarine. Whatever game this was, it had some serious power requirements. While the process ran, he set up everything he’d need and skimmed the instructional booklet. Along with some typical VR concerns like smacking your hand into a wall or falling over, there were a lot of warnings about overuse. It was set to automatically boot the player after 3 hours and not let them return for 30 minutes as a kind of safeguard against compulsive use. Lucas figured that was just marketing. Movie promoters in the 50s used to guarantee free funerals if you were ‘scared to death’ during their schlockbuster horror films. Likely a gimmick, but intriguing nonetheless. If he wanted to leave before then, the booklet said that all he had to do was think the words ‘I want to leave’.

The preparations complete, he gently applied the tiara to his forehead. It stuck there through some molecular process he didn’t understand, something to do with air pockets. He gave it a twist, and it popped loose again. Sufficiently placated he wasn’t going to be stuck with a piece of gaudy jewelry to his face for all time, he stuck it once more and readied the boot sequence. A part of him still figured it was an elaborate prank, but if it was, it’d still make for good content. He got in a comfortable position in his chair, reached for the keyboard, and touched the Enter key.

***

An explosion of light akin to daybreak after a year in a cave assaulted Lucas’ senses. Nerve endings and synapses fired, twisting their purposes in ways they were never meant to go. His whole concept of self was shoved roughly through an infinite length of fiberoptic cables, reforming only after nearly reaching a breaking point. All this, an eternity of baffling sensation, only took a second of real time. One blink, he was in his apartment. The next, he was Here.

Where Here was took a while to resolve. At first he existed in an untextured labyrinth of polygonal shapes. A primitive 3D architecture that would make denizens of the 90s gawp, but not much else. Then the data filled in. The walls gained not only colour, but scale, temperature, surface detail. They were stone, large blocks of granite or something, with glints of mica sprinkled throughout. They shimmered in the light of a huge chandelier, which burned with an incandescent glow from lightbulbs made of giant crystal. Furniture grew from undifferentiated blobs into a massive dining table, fit to seat the dozen chairs that popped into existence. As Lucas turned, another pulse of detail made the ground behind him pitch upwards. A slightly raised dais, on which an elegantly carved wooden throne manifested.

So he was in a throne room! Castles and Conquest was the game’s name, after all. But who’s? Was he the liege lord in this game? Or one of a dozen brave knights who would do their lord’s bidding?

“Your Highness!”

Lucas spun around. Emerging from a doorway that bled off into a digital void strode a tall, comely woman wearing gleaming metal armour. Long golden hair tied in an elegant braid trailed down the back of her polished steel plate. As she approached, the armor pitted and scratched itself, as if filling in the details of a dozen hard-fought battles. She stood an inch or two taller than Marcus, something he found more alluring than intimidating. There was just something about a woman who could most assuredly kick his ass.

“Are...are you talking to me?” he asked.

She nodded, smiling. “Welcome, my liege, to the world of Castles and Conquest. My name is Kara, and I will act as your guide.” She held out a gauntleted hand. Lucas took it, his eyebrows raising as her powerful grip clasped his and easily overwhelmed him. Incredibly, it felt identical to doing the same thing in real life! Whatever the tiara was doing in his brain was simulating weight, warmth, strength, pressure, everything that might hint he was in a simulation. More realistic than a dream, even. It was a miraculous achievement!

More to the point, despite the metal gauntlet separating them, Kara felt like a real flesh and blood woman underneath the steel. A tall, strong, powerful woman. Lucas couldn’t help but flush. Whoever had designed this program was brilliant!

“My liege?” she asked. He’d been lost in his own thoughts, and even though Kara was a computer program, he felt a little silly being lost in thoroughly unchaste thoughts right in front of her.

“Erm, sorry. This is just...a lot to take in. What kind of game is this, anyway?”

Kara gave a shrug of her broad shoulders. “This realm can be anything you want it to be. Some enjoy the experience of managing a kingdom, others partake in pitched battles or thrilling combat with monsters of tooth and claw. You can be the centre of attention or a brilliant chessmaster from behind the scenes. All of that is up to you, your Majesty. But first, we must do something about your apparel!”

Lucas looked down and gasped. He’d been so captivated by the eerie reality of the VR simulation that he hadn’t noticed he wasn’t wearing a single scrap of clothing! He covered his junk with one hand, then realized that even limp he needed both to protect his modesty. His arm went over his chest for a moment before he redirected it down to join his other hand. Guys didn’t mind going shirtless, he reminded himself.

“W-what the hell? Why did it drop me into the sim with no clothes?”

Kara shook her head. “Perhaps they did not form as readily in your mind’s eye as your body did. It doesn’t matter why. To command respect, you’ll need garments of the utmost quality. Quick, follow me!” She led the way towards a heavy open door off from the throne room. It opened to reveal a thin spiral staircase lit by torchlight from equidistant sconces parallel to the steps. Lucas followed closely behind, worrying that somehow this computer program would judge him as some kinda flasher. His bare footsteps made slapping noises on the cool flagstone, though they were practically silent compared to Kara’s heavy sabatons clanging with her urgent stride.

After ascending for at least a solid minute, the staircase emptied out into a gorgeous bedroom. A four poster bed draped with curtains sat in the middle of a dozen different oak furniture pieces. Armoires, chests, drawers, and a huge vanity complete with an anachronistically clear mirror. To Lucas’ confusion, the predominant colour to the fabrics was pink, or at most a salmony red.

“This is my room?” Lucas asked, his brow furrowed. Wrapping a part of a curtain around his naked lower body, his skin sang as the soft fabric slid effortlessly along his skin. Why were guy clothes always so scratchy, anyways?

“This is the room of the Regent of this castle, and if you’re the Regent, then this is your room. If it’s not to your liking, we can always commission the castle’s staff to appoint it to your preference. But first, we must get you dressed!”

Kara opened the twin doors of a massive carved armoire to reveal a cavalcade of colours. Striking reds, blues, greens, and purples mingled together like a textile rainbow, bookended by white and black on either side. More hue variety than he’d ever had in his life, but as Kara pulled out a few to lay them on the bed, more questions arose.

“These...are these dresses?”

“Of course,” Kara said, almost dismissively, “I said you’d be getting dressed, didn’t I? If you’ll be the Regent, you need to look respectable.” She marched over to a dresser, where other items of clothing found their way onto the bed. Bras, panties, corsets, petticoats, a veritable buffet of feminine fashion. Lucas let the curtain fall from his hands and quickly put one of the dresses in between him and the armoured guide. They were rather gorgeous, and he always did play as female characters in RPGs. Would this really be any different?

“You sure we aren’t broadcasting this to anyone?” he asked, pressing the beautiful cerulean gown to his chest to check the fit. To his surprising chagrin, he didn’t like his chances. The garments were meant for someone with a much different body type.

“I’m not sure what that means, but if you’re asking if anyone is watching this from afar, rest assured they are not. A Regent’s privacy is paramount!”

Lucas nodded, still a little unsure. He set the dress down and grabbed at some of the underthings. He chose some panties of fine white silk. Sliding the fabric in between his fingers, he shuddered. It made the boxers he wore in real life feel like burlap. Getting them to fit might be a problem, however, and he noticed a slight incline to his cock. He blushed furiously, but if Kara noticed, she didn’t let on.

“I...umm...I don’t know if these are going to fit me,” he said.

Kara nodded. “That may be true. Fortunately, as a Regent, you have full control over your body shape.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I do? Are there, like, controls or something?”

This made the knight grin again. “No need for such crude contrivances. Just imagine how you’d like to appear to others, and your will shall be done. As is your right!”

Lucas looked skeptically down at a reasonable facsimile of the same old body he’d hated to get photographed in anywhere he went. How had the game gotten that, he wondered? Having full control of his form had always been a dream, but just being given the ability without earning it felt a little...dangerous. What if he messed up? Well, he reasoned to himself, he could start small...so to speak. The dresses seemed to be made to fit someone slightly shorter than his 5’10. He thought about shrinking, but nothing happened. He focused harder, wishing with all his might that his character would reduce in size. Kara put a reassuring hand on his shoulders.

“Think about what form would make you the most happy. Embrace that.”

He tried again, relaxing this time instead of straining towards his goal. He tried to picture himself, a version of his body in his mind’s eye. Gradually, he imagined himself shorter. Nothing at first. He kept his self-image locked in place, refusing to let it waver. He felt a tingle run up his spine, down his extremities, like a chill without the cold. When he opened his eyes again, it was to a miraculous sight. He really was shorter! By at least a few inches, as far as he could tell. His eyes now came to the nape of Kara’s neck, much to his delight.

“It worked!” he said with delight. His initial reluctance forgotten, he raced to put on one particular dress that had caught his eye. A flowing purple number with frills and flares that made it look like a blossoming iris. He’d never worn a dress before in his life, but it slipped on as naturally as anything else he’d ever worn. Like he was meant for it. It didn’t hang quite right, however. It had been tailored to conform to a more curvier form. Logically, he’d have to make another few changes to his character’s body, though the distinction between his avatar and his self was rapidly blurring to his overstimulated mind.

He pictured the dress fitting perfectly, down to the angstrom. He watched the figure in his mind twirl, the skirt spinning out with him as the tingling returned. Chest, hips, and thighs pushed outward from his skin, body shifting effortlessly to accommodate. It felt incredible, and he wanted to feel it more! What would the Regent of this kingdom truly look like. Gorgeous chestnut hair, he reasoned. And it slid down his neck in a luscious waterfall. Perky lips and long eyelashes, which grew into place against a probe of his finger. He realized he didn’t even need to shut his eyes anymore, and watched with a gasp as the colour of his fingernails changed to match the purple of the dress.

“It’s...it’s like magic!”

“Just one of the many benefits of being the Kingdom’s Princess,” Kara said with a mirthy glint in her eye.

Lucas froze. “Princess? I thought I was the Regent?”

“The Princess is the Regent, here. Of course, if you’d prefer, we can still call you Regent. Of course, if you stick with Princess, we might have to do something about the name.”

“My name?” Lucas asked, a tugging at his heart long ignored popping back into the fringe of his awareness. An old wound aching in proximity to rain.

“Well, Lucas does not befit a Princess. Princesses are elegant, graceful, and above all figures of immense respect. A more noble name is needed. You assign such appellations in your world, I believe?”

Lucas thought about it. Maybe something like a username, something for the game to call him by. His character. Or...was his character a she? Was...he shook his head. This was all a little too much. As he lost his balance, Kara’s arms snapped out and caught him. The Princess’ skipped a beat.

“My...my name,” the Princess began, gazing up in wonder at the gorgeous emerald irises of her companion, “Shall be...Iris. I’ve always liked that name. And it fits with this dress, don’t you think?”

Kara carried her over to the bed, where the other dresses had vanished back into the armoire, as had the other clothing options. The moment of irreality slipped entirely past Iris’s awareness. She locked her focus onto her knight.

“It’s beautiful. It suits you well,” Kara said. “And what do you want to do next, your Majesty?”

Iris thought for a moment. She remembered vaguely thinking of this world as a game, but she couldn’t remember how to play it. The thoughts of war strategy or playing the role of a warrior seemed so trivial. She was in charge, and had much more important things to do!

“I...I want to learn about this world. About its peoples, its customs. I want to learn of its fashions...and its dances! I want to meet and talk and sing and be the person this kingdom needs me to be. I need…” Her voice faded away, a lump in her throat forming as the realization of what she needed hit her like a freight train. “I need you, Kara.”

Her guardian’s armour slid away, folding in on itself section by section until it had completely disappeared. Standing before her now was a tall, muscular woman in the garb of a courtly suitor. Strong yet gentle. Kind yet dominant. And as Iris looked up at her, it dawned on her that Kara just might feel the same way. Kara leaned over her, both of their breathing hot and heavy. As she got closer, the tenting in Iris’s dress became hard to ignore. The joy of the moment wavered.

“I’m sorry...I…” she stumbled over her words as her two selves clashed. But Kara hand was there once more, sliding across the side of Iris’s face and brushing away a curl of hair.

“Remember. Anything about your body can change, if you want it to.”

Despair turned to joy, and Iris pushed up from the bed to kiss Kara square on the lips. The knight reciprocated, slowly lowering as they embraced to meet on the feather mattress. As their tongues began to dance with one another, Iris felt the tent retreat back inside her body. Inch by inch, her previously impressive cock size disappeared. Or, rather, transferred, as the Princess soon discovered. For as the length and width disappeared from her member, equal size was added to the press of fabric against Kara’s own groin.

“You want this, don’t you?” Kara asked playfully after pulling back from their kiss. Iris, still catching her breath, nodded enthusiastically before returning to give more of her size to Kara. She only stopped when what she had could barely be considered a true penis in form. More of a clit than anything penetrative. Perfect for a pretty princess. A wash of glee at being unable to become hard despite her arousal made her gasp and giggle like...like she’d never done before.

“Yes...oh god...it feels so good!” Iris squealed.

Kara pulled open her pants to reveal a cock. Lucas’ cock. It made her squirm her thickened thighs together at the thought of experiencing sex the way she wanted to for the very first time.

“You’re a Princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes...yes!” she said with all her heart.

“And what do Princesses do when made to feel really-”

A kiss to her neck.

“Really-”

“A stroke up her thigh.”

“Good?”

Iris’ breath caught. “T-they get wet?”

In that moment, a squirt of moisture pulsed out of her tiny cock. Thin, clear fluid not unlike the gush of an overly teased pussy slid down her skin. The delight from that sensation made another trail of pre slide out, then another. Soon she was leaking a steady stream of feminine cum where it gathered around her twitching, virgin hole. No longer for spurting deep in an eager partner, this release was nothing more than lubricant to aid her own penetration, and a physical display of her helpless arousal. Kara lifted Iris’ purple dress, exposing the adorable state of her charge. A prisoner to alien pleasures that short-circuited her vulnerable mind.

“Oooh!~” Iris moaned. Her voice, creaking and straining at her old register, slowly transformed into the soft, feminine voice she wanted it to sound like. She moaned again, this time with the voice of a young woman. It was perfect! By the time her attention returned, Kara was drawing back. Disappointed, she hadn’t even noticed that the knight was pressing something thick and hard at the entrance to her ass. All that pre had formed a perfect lubricant, but Iris was still tight, still hesitant to receive.

“That’s it babe. Just relax,” Kara said, her voice firm yet compassionate. Iris tried to meditate on something, anything, to recenter herself. Instead, she tried again to imagine what would a good bottom would look like. Feel like. A sigh, and her ass expanded once more. Her hole unclenched, aided by a gentle pressure and the lube from her drippy dick. When Kara slipped inside, she couldn’t help the noise that escaped your mouth.

“Aaah!~ Fuck!”

“You ok?” Kara asked, a tinge worried.

“Of course I am! This is just...it feels so much better than I imagined!”

The knight gave a laugh. “An Anal-Addict Princess then? Goddess, you get more attractive by the moment.” Those words pushed into Iris’ mind and lodged there, altering her self image. Of course she was a buttslut, it all made sense! Plugs of various sizes popped into existence on a shelf that she swore had once held books moments before. Her cheeks expanded further, becoming truly bubble shaped and eminently squeezable, followed by a neediness deep in her being that could only be sated by being filled completely. A chastity cage wouldn’t be necessary. Her main source of pleasure from now on would be her constantly needy hole. Her Princess Pussy.

Kara’s thrusts were gentle at first, dragging out the experience with agonizing pleasure from Iris’ new obsession. She spread her legs, allowing her dick to jiggle with the motion. It didn’t get hard. It would never get hard. It would stay perfect and limp and cute like a proper princess clit should. Her attention focused entirely on the cock, once hers, now thrusting in and out of her ass. Her moans came often and freely. Is this what sex was supposed to be like the whole time?!

“How are you…ngh…how are you my Princess?” Kara asked.

“It feels so good!” Iris said. She was rewarded with a skillful prod to her prostate.

Kara sped up, pressing her body down in between Iris’ splayed legs. Heavy, calloused hands wrapped around Iris’ wrists, keeping her vulnerable form pinned and under control. A synchronised symphony of grunts, giggles, moans and whines followed in time with the slapping of skin on skin. At points, Iris wanted to clamp down to hold onto just the right amount of dick. But that was impossible! She wanted all the dick inside her, especially Kara’s. Kara, who had taken her suspicious frail form and turned her into a mewling fuckpet.

“Oh goddess,” Kara breathed, “You’re so tight. I can’t hold back for long, Princess! Waitwaitwait, I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

Iris did, implicitly. She let the stronger woman haul her up to her feet, shuffling over to the vanity. For the first time, she saw her new body in all its wonders. Her perky breasts, bulging hips, her long curling hair now matted with sweat. It was perfect. She almost wanted to cry.

Then she felt Kara enter her again, and got to watch the pretty woman in the mirror gasp and cry out at being filled to the brim with what had once been her own cock. The knight returned to her steady, insistent pace, the new positioning pressing even harder against her prostate and causing even more girlcum to drool out of her tiny dicklet. It seemed never-ending, as did the pleasure. Kara pulled her wrists behind her, forming a yoke with which to control Iris’ body.

“I’m getting close, Princess. Tell me where you want it.”

Iris stared into her own gorgeous eyes. Her smile growing to show perfect teeth.

“Inside. Cum inside me!”

Kara chuckled, her pace growing almost frantic. “Tell me who you are.”

“I’m Iris!”

“And?” Kara demanded, her grip tightening.

“I’m...I’m a Girl!”

“And?”

Iris felt a new form of tension in her lower body. Far from the explosion of the orgasms she was used to, this one built and built like a rogue wave. There was nowhere to release it, and the steady release from her tiny dick only driving her libido into overdrive. Words came unbidden to her lips. The words she knew Kara wanted to hear. The words she wanted to say to herself this whole time.

“I’m...I’m a Pretty Princess!”

Wet slapping noises preceded deep, powerful groans. Kara pulled Iris by the waist, slamming herself deep inside before the thrusting became throbbing and twitches. Then it happened. Iris could practically feel the pulses of thick, creamy cum surge inside her. It was everything Iris ever wanted from sex, to be the completely receptive party. To be the pretty one. The passive one. She came in tandem with her partner, and she was a captive audience as her own glorious climax played out in all its cathartic release in the mirror before her. Weak little jets didn’t even make it to the mirror, splashing impotently on the vanity’s polished top in a glistening trail of little puddles, giving evidence to her complete and total submission.

Kara gently pulled herself from Iris’ ass, letting thick streams of cum to gush out of her well creamed hole. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the shameful joy she took in feeling seed spill out of her like a well-used sextoy. A fuckhole who performed her job perfectly.

“Are you ready to return to meet your people?” Kara asked.

Still coming down from her endorphin high, Iris quirked an eyebrow. “What, like, right now?”

Kara smiled. With a snap of her fingers, the bedchambers fell away to reveal the throne room. But now the halls were filled with people! Guards, citizens, priestesses, all the people of the kingdom, all gazing at her. Iris blushed, pulling down her pretty purple dress again. But Kara placed her heavy hands onto her shoulders. Her knight was there to protect her. To keep her safe.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Kara told her, lifting her beautiful dress again to reveal her tiny, twitching clit. Iris’s face turned even redder, but she didn’t fight it. Everyone smiled at her, unmoved by her nakedness. It was fine. It was normal. She leaked down her leg, the thrill of being truly seen for the first time getting her wet once more. Iris held up her dress and gave a little curtsy to her audience as the pathetic drip turned to a trickle.

“T-thank you. I’m so happy to be your Princess!” she said, her voice cracking. They all looked past her to the throne, looming above on a dais that seemed to tower above the crowd. Gleaming stone steps lead up to a glorious, velvet throne. Fit for a regal presence...save the gleaming golden dildo in the middle of the seat. Her aching, cum-drooling hole twitched at the sight. It was meant for her!

A trio of bell rings shook the walls. Kara caught her once more as the floor shook, jostling them both. The shape of the throne room around her distorted and twisted, becoming at once near and far away. Worried, she turned around to meet Kara’s serene gaze.

“What’s going on?” Iris asked.

Her knight put a hand to her quivering lip. “It’s time to go for now, sweetie. For now at least. Back to your world.”

Iris’ heart sank. “But we just got started! There’s so much I want to do! So much I want to learn! So many dresses to wear!”

Kara leaned in to give her a parting kiss. “There’ll be so much time for that soon.”

She didn’t understand. None of the smiling faces in the throne room noticed its disintegration. The only one seemingly aware of this fact was Kara. Dear, sweet Kara, who could push ideas into Lucas’ head as easily as Iris’.

“What are you, Kara? Really?”

The guard could only give a playful shrug. “What are any of us, really? Perhaps I was like you once, perhaps I’m a construct, maybe still I’m some deep part of yourself that needed to be expressed. Either way, I have form now. You’ve given me a new lease on life. My advice is that you should give your mind some time to rest in reality, to contemplate what you’ve learned. Just remember: no matter what, I’ll be here for you. You’ll always be my Pretty Princess.”

As the tile floor disintegrated, Iris fell through space. As she tumbled end over end, those last two words echoed in her head.

Pretty Princess.

Pretty Princess.

Pretty Princess.

***

Iris’s eyes fluttered open, as if awaking from a long winter sleep. Sensations filtered in, and she noticed them casually. The dull firelight of the castle chamber resolved into the harsh fluorescence of her apartment. Floral fragrance churning to sweat and old books, making her wrinkle her nose. The feeling of damp wool against her skin indicated that her pants were absolutely soaked with sexual excitement, her latest release still cooling against her skin. So at least that part had been real. Her hand drifted to the TIARA at her forehead. It fell off with a slight twitch as before, and she stared at it for a while.

“Castles and Conquest,” she said, her voice sounding strange yet familiar to her own ear, “I was in a game, I remember!” Iris looked down at her body and frowned. This wasn’t hers...this was Lucas’ body. But she was Lucas...and she was Iris. Who was she?

A message blipped at her phone. She reached for it and checked her messages. An unknown number had texted.

“Dear Iris, I know you’re probably feeling a little disoriented. But everything you felt was real. You are you, and no one else. This world may take some time to get used to, and your body might need some more help than merely wishing it to be right, but I’ll be here in the castle whenever you need help. Be strong. Be brave. Be my Pretty Princess.

Faithfully yours,

Kara”

She stared at the text for what felt like an age. So it had been real, and not. The perfect simulation, all in her head, that had drastically changed how she looked at things. Her mind had been...not exactly altered, but perhaps clarified. All that held her back from being her True Self had melted away in Kara’s tender embrace, making her Iris through and through. But it had been so easy to become Iris in the game. In reality, however, she still saw shadows of that sad silly gamer boy she’d been. How could she make her true self a reality?

She looked down at her hands, nails unpainted. She hmm’d to herself. That was something she could do. A quick visit to a video tutorial, and she had a decent idea where to start. Iris began loading items into an online shopping cart and didn’t quite know where to stop. After the nail polish, the panties, the bras, the chastity cages, the vibrators, it was all tallying up pretty high.

“Oh my gosh! I’m such a ditz!” Iris said, slapping her forehead. Her stream! She could review Castles and Conquest and the TIARA for all her fans! It’d easily get hundreds of thousands of views for such an exclusive get. That’d get her the cash to buy everything she needed. And her fans would support her new name and look.

But the first thing she ordered with her streaming windfall, she thought, would have to be at least one quality dress. After all, a Princess ought to look the part!