Knight & Lady, Part 4 (MtF, FtM TG Preg)

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Al

Within the fantastical world of Vortis, there is no greater hero than Sir Marcus. He has earned the hand of his love, the beautiful Lady Astrid, and all should be well. But when a horrid curse prevents them from conceiving, the pair must leave on one final adventure: to an ancient well that may grant their wish to bear children. But when the wish is made, who shall be the father, and who the mother? Soon the pair must reorient themselves as their bodies switch genders and roles, all while their wish’s desire beckons.

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Chapter 4: The Magic’s Intent

Marcus refused to believe it. There was no way the magic was turning him into a woman! He had been a man, a valiant, courageous, and proudly masculine one, all of his life. He had worked himself up from a simple peasant’s boy to a respected, feared, and loved knight of the realm, and had earned the hand of a beautiful noblewoman whom he loved dearly, and was certainly attracted to. He had proved his manhood in that respect, too. And now his love Astrid was convinced that the magic was making her - a figure of fragile beauty - a man, and he - a rugged, tall, well-muscled man - a woman!?

He refused to entertain the thought. Even as she had explained her understanding of the entity’s wish-granting, he had denied it.

“I think that even the spirit of the ancient glade could not overturn Atarax’s curse, not completely. You are destined to be sterile, and I sadly barren. But by making us change sexes, that would allow us to produce children. I am not prevented from being virile, love, and you are not prevented from being barren.”

“Except for the fact that I am not a woman!” he bellowed.

She touched his chest, leaving him to gasp a little from the unexpected sensitivity there. “Husband, look. These developments are unnatural. Your face is softening. I am getting taller, and you are getting shorter. We are changing places to fulfil our wish.”

“No, no! I don’t believe it. I - I simply can’t. This is just the strange results of the weather, of the magic of the glade, of me giving you my extra rations, or something. I’m going to fetch us some water.”

He quickly got dressed and removed himself from the tent, ignoring his imploring wife. The oasis encampment was starting to buzz with activity, and he moved through it, his longer brown hair swishing against his cheeks. It was certainly longer, almost unnaturally so, but that didn’t mean she was right! He grabbed a strand of it and inspected it. It looked . . . darker than usual. He had always had brown hair, but some of the strands here were almost black now.

“It’s just the effects of the sun,” he muttered. “Same as this damned croaky voice.”

He reached the oasis and placed the buckets into the cool, refreshing water. They were heavy when filled, heavier than expected, even. For a moment he actually struggled with their load, only to pull upon his reserves of energy.

“Don’t overdo it, young miss!” came an accented voice. “Here, I shall help you.”
 To Marcus’ surprise, one of the local Zakarian traders, olive-skinned with a dark, heavily oiled goatee, came to his surprise. He practically tried to snatch the bucket from Marcus’ hand, but Marcus held firm.

“I can take care of it,” he said, voice still a little squeaky. “I am a knight of Vortis, I am more than used to such customs.”

“From Vortis I believe, but a knight? I thought only men could become knights there, young miss.”

Marcus looked up, his hair parting naturally to each side.

“I am a man, good sir. Do not insult me.”

The man paused, his eyes widening. “A thousand apologies scattered across the sands of the desert, good sir! I had thought - the desert springs forth many mirages, even here. Please, allow me to offer a discount on my wares!”

Marcus fumed. He rubbed his chin, again finding it utterly hairless. Could he really look so like a woman?

“It better be a big discount,” he muttered. His gaze caught his reflection in the stilling oasis waters. For just a moment, even he thought he was seeing a woman.

“Of course so! Only the best wares for you and your, er, partner?”

“Wife,” he muttered, seeing Astrid approach. She was indeed taller - how had he not fully noticed this until now? Her desert travel clothing was stretched against her form, and her arms were obviously firm and tough as they shifted by her sides.

“That is your wife?” another Zakarian said, astonished. He gave a deep belly laugh. “I guess we know who wears the pants in the relationship, ha! I have some climbing equipment for you sir. I imagine you need it, to mount a woman like that!”

Marcus frowned. He was almost ready to draw his sword. 

“Just let me see what wares you have. And don’t comment on Astrid. She is a noblewoman of Vortis, and her reputation is beyond reproach!”

“It would be,” a passerby said, as the crowd joined to apparently take in Astrid’s impressive stature. “I doubt you could find a man big enough to still be the man beside her.”

“This one is the husband,” the first Zakarian corrected a bit sheepishly.

“What? This one? Ha, good sir! You have done well to not be intimidated! I myself believe a man should always be larger than his lass, but I see that-”

“Just let me see the damn wares,” Marcus fumed, voice catching into a squeak. This only served to set several of the men laughing some more, which only increased his anger. He was almost ready to draw his sword when Astrid arrived, her hands on her hips.

“Is something the problem, gentlemen? We are looking for wares.”

The men muttered and made comments among themselves in their own language, clearly still amused. The shortest Zakarian looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear.

“Anything for a woman of your . . . stature,” he purred.

But Marcus knew Zakarian. He had travelled with an adventurer and trained under one from this land as well. He could make out some of their whispered comments to each other.

“He looks more the woman and she the man.”

“Do they not shave moustaches on women in Vortis?”

“She looks like she could beat him in an arms wrestle.”

“Bah, she is not attractive as from a distance. No hips on her, and far too mannish in the jaw.”

“She bargains well, though! Like a hard-headed man. Don’t try to play this one!”

He decided not to argue and make things worse. Gods knew, his ego was already bruised enough without drawing this conversation out. In the end, he let his wife negotiate the prices for various things, including a new shaving kit and new clothing.

Hers, she explained, was becoming rather tight.

***

Astrid noticed that her husband was near-silent as they approached Heersun. She had tried to initiate conversation several times, but was rebuffed at each turn. She understood why; she was still trying to come to terms with it all herself. They were changing sex, and it was increasingly obvious to both of them. The thought of becoming a man; muscled and hairy, with a - a manhood between her thighs! It was too much to even consider, let alone how her own part in their relationship would change. What would getting hard feel like? How could she possibly act around other men? She had been raised to be a dainty, well-mannered, and well-spoken woman, a figure of silk hiding steel, but not actual steel such as a word! And now she would have a sword of her own, and one that could become quite erect indeed. Already, it was starting to bulge a little as it extended. It was barely an inch, but she was deeply aware of it.

But of course, any consideration she had was matched if not surpassed by her husband. He had worked his way up from nothing to become a great knight. His pride was in his manliness. To become unmanned in a society such as theirs . . .

Her poor knight.

“My love,” she said. “We can talk about this. We can stop before we reach the city gates and-”

“I’m going to find an omen reader,” he said suddenly. He was obviously trying to keep his voice low, but the softness in it still came through. “Heersun prides itself upon having the greatest omen-readers in the land. They helped us direct ourselves through the desert and beyond to the Ancient Glade in the first place. Now they’ll help us decipher this damned curse.”

“It was a wish freely granted, my love.”

“It is a curse. We didn’t wish to change sex.”

“But the spirit did warn us there would be the unexpected, did it not? And that to grant what we wanted, certain sacrifices would be made. My love, I know your pain, I feel it too. But if this is truly the only way for us to have children, then perhaps . . .”

“Perhaps what?” he muttered. “Perhaps I should lose my member and spread my legs and receive your seed, and willingly at that? Perhaps I should grow big with child until it is time to labor and birth?”

Astrid swallowed. She was on a knife edge in this conversation, but she knew she could not back down. They had come so far.

“Perhaps,” she repeated. “If it is the only way. Then yes, my love, perhaps.”

Marcus scowled. “I can scarcely imagine it.”

“I would help you through it.”

“Please, let’s not talk of this anymore. We will find accommodations. We will bathe and get new clothing for our . . . changing forms. And then we shall find an omen reader. We will find a way to undo this. I won’t . . . I won’t be unmanned, Astrid.”

The noblewoman kept her mouth shut. What else was there to say? She wanted to talk sense to her husband, to at least let him see the possibilities, but she was the woman and he was the man. He was forthright and she far more willing to bend. It was the nature of things. Still, as she saw him rub his aching chest, she couldn’t help but think that the nature of things was changing. And she had always been headstrong, just as he had always been sensitive to her, romantic and outward in his affection

Were they truly bound by their sex?

She wondered.

***

Proper quarters were indeed lovely. The Jade cities were far more resplendent and open to the sun than the cities of Vortis. Women wore gorgeous, brightly-coloured saris that bared their midriffs and shoulders, while men wore equally bright robes that were loose, going over only one shoulder. The skin of the people ranged from a gorgeous olive-tan to a captivating ebony-black, and affection was freely given - best friends held hands, women welcomed one another with a kiss upon the lips, and food was eaten from shared bowls in the centre of the table. It was a great contrast to Marcus and Astrid, who would usually adore such displays of affection but now found themselves frigid to such. 

“At least we have been able to bathe?” Astrid said, half-asking a question of her husband. “And the new clothing suits us better, don’t you think?”

Marcus frowned as he looked over himself. He was wearing a small men’s robe, though he had chosen a simple white colouring rather than anything fancy. To his embarrassment, the shoulder catch configuration meant that his bare shoulder was revealed to be slim and lovely, blemish free. His skin was paler than it had been, and there was the faintest hint of a slight bosom where the fabric drew tight against his chest.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered. “It makes me look . . . shapely.”

“Does your chest still ache?”

He groped it, running a finger over a swollen nipple and sighing. It sent a slight buzz of something approaching unwanted bliss through his system. His member, which had shrunk a little in size, hardened just a little.

“Yes. Very much so. Damn all the Gods for this, why is it still aching?”

Astrid blushed a little, not knowing quite how to break the news. Marcus preferred directness, though.

“I think it means you are still, um, growing, dear husband.”

“By all the Gods!”

He grabbed a peach - the Heersunnites were not lacking for peaches - and began to devour it.

“Did your bath go well? I missed you. I miss our shared baths.”

Marcus sighed. “I feel less dirty, at least.” He cracked a small smile. “I won’t lie, it did feel good to be in warm water again.”

“Same,” she expressed. “I would have liked to have shared it with you.”

Marcus nodded. He blushed a little. “Even when I am unmanned?”

“You’re not unmanned yet, my love. And besides, there are other ways of having fun that I can show you.”

She moved over to him as he lay on the couch, placing herself over him. She was astounded at how equal they were now in height, and her own musculature had grown to match his as well. Slowly, she opened the front of his robe and caressed his chest, running her fingers over the slight bulges there that signalled them to be small breasts. He elicited a slight groan as she teased his nipples, letting them stiffen. Indeed, he had more womanly areolas now, and something about this aroused Astrid, making her own womanhood become moist, but also her clitoris to swell, as if it yearned to harden and rise as well.

“B-by the Gods, that f-feels weird,” Marcus murmured, swallowing a little. He had cut his hair, but it only revealed the greater elegance of his features, similar to how Astrid’s own shaving had shown the prominence of her jawline. 

“I can stop, if you like.”

“I - ahhh, no. Keep going. Just - ahhh - it’s very . . . different.”

“Well, perhaps it’s one small thing you can learn to enjoy, before we meet this omen-reader.”

His hands ran over her, playing with her own chest. It was quite flat by this point, and her nipples less sensitive. Still, it was getting her going. She slipped out of her sari, straddling her husband, enjoying his girth.

“You are not unmanned yet, my love,” she repeated. “And now it’s time for you to show me.”

“Gods, you have a way of pulling me from a black mood, my love.”

Indeed, the lovemaking that followed help soothe Marcus’ fears, at least for the now. He was not as big as before, but he was still capable of thrusting into his wife and bringing the pair of them to ecstasy. But now a strange new dynamic was added to their passion: the way Astrid played and groped and teased his increasingly womanly chest, allowing him to bask in its sheer tenderness. It ached to grow further, and that made him afraid.

But for now, just this once, he revelled in the new sensations.

When the pair finally came, they moaned into each others’ mouths, kissing lovingly as his seed shot within her. It wasn’t nearly as much as it should have been, but the act replenished him, just as it aided Astrid. She imagined in her mind’s eye that she was getting pregnant and that all was well. But when her husband cried out in a higher voice that illusion was shattered. She rested upon him, her head upon his nascent bosom, the pair breathing together in post-coital bliss. She wondered if this might be the last time they made love in such a fashion.

***

The omen-reader’s name was Mina. She was middle-aged and beautiful, with dark olive skin and an abundance of hair. Her shop was surprisingly large despite its alleyway entrance, and apparently she was selective with her clientele. Many had warned Marcus of this, but the second she had seen him with her own eyes she had practically demanded she read the omens for him.

“You have been touched by ancient powers at the end of the world,” she said in her accented voice. “Come, sit. Bring your partner too, for I sense the transformation of her aura as well.”

They sat upon purple pillows in the darkened space. The windows were blocked out but various lamps lit the heavily perfumed and cushioned room. 

“How can I help you?” she asked. “Do you wish to know the future you are barrelling towards? Or something else? I ask only a small donation from you; the pleasure of witnessing such ancient magic up close is blessing enough.”

Marcus and Astrid exchanged a glance, and a silent understanding passed between them: Astrid would speak first. She was less embarrassed and awkward about the changes that were occurring, and the better negotiator and diplomat besides, being raised as a noblewoman.

“Well, you are correct, wisewoman Mina,” Astrid said. “We did indeed travel to the ends of the world, all to correct a great injustice done to us by the cruelty of a dragon’s dying curse.”

She told their story to Mina, who listened with sage patience, though it was clear the story intrigued her greatly when she habitually repeated words such as ‘dragon,’ ‘glade’, ‘unexpected change’ and so forth, as if she were chewing on each sample of the story before devouring it. Astrid told her of their suspicion of the magic’s course upon their bodies, but their desire for confirmation of where it was headed.

“And if it can be overturned,” her husband pitched in, looking down at the faint outline of his burgeoning bosom. “And if so, how.”

Mina nodded. “Yes, I can see how two such as yourselves would find this . . . unexpected. I will do my best to commune with the spirits, and see if I can forge a connection to this magic and speak of it. The entity itself may speak through me, but I promise nothing but hope. Please, take my hands, both of you. Do not sever the connection until we are done. Close your eyes, and open yourselves to the vision that comes.”

They linked hands. Mina spoke some words in a language neither knew, and the lamps dimmed, leaving them in near-darkness.

“Great ancient magic,” Mina said. “I channel my energy to you. I bring forth my spirit into your realm, and beseech that you place your own energy into my empty vessel. Speak through my mortal flesh, that you may answer the questions of Astrid and Marcus, in whatever way you can. Let them know of the magic that affects them, and how it may be overcome. This I ask as a servant of the realms beyond our plane.”

She hummed a few brief bars of music. Marcus and Astrid both found themselves nervous, tempted to open their eyes.

And then, suddenly, there was no need, for the vision came to them both.

They were in the Ancient Glade again, the well that was older than the world itself before them. It was as if they had never left.

“What would you know?” came a familiar voice. “I have already granted your desire. It shall simply take time to shape itself. Fear not, I said you would be expecting a child by the time you return to your homeland.”

Marcus clenched his jaw. “You did not say I would be the one to carry and bear it! This was not what we asked for!”

“You asked for the power to have children. I will repeat your wish to you, so that you understand.”

A faint, translucent image of Astrid as she had been appeared between them. Astrid gasped; she had not realised how much she had changed since. The apparition spoke.

“I wish that the dragon Atarax’s dying curse upon my husband and myself be broken, that we may have children together, and safely and easily at that.”

“Do you see?” the entity continued. “I have found a way to achieve this. But recall, you both agreed there might be a sacrifice.”

Marcus grimaced. “Yes, but-”

“But this is a large sacrifice,” Astrid said. “A very large one.”

“It is the only one required,” the entity said. “The only one possible to overcome the evils of Atarax’s dying curse. And I promise you, it will not be without its rewards.”

“What do you mean?” Marcus asked.

“You are indeed correct that you shall take on the form of a woman, Sir Marcus Denath, just as Astrid Levian shall take on the form of a man. You shall still be husband and wife, but I anticipated that you would find your new forms difficult to take to, at first. So I have ensured that your transformations would be slow, that you might adjust.”

“That is . . . kind of you,” Astrid said diplomatically. “But hardly what one would call a reward.”

The well glowed with its golden magic. “That is not the reward. The reward is that you will be in perfect health, and younger again, to make up the years wasted trying to bear children that could not be. You will be in your prime once more, but further than this, so shall your bodies.”

“Explain what you mean by that,” said Marcus, who was starting to feel a bit nervous about what this could entail.

The golden light spread out to envelop them further.

“The mortal lives of humans are beyond my full ken,” the light whispered, “so the ultimate forms you were to take required some aid. I reached into your minds, and found what you would find ultimately attractive to the fullest. I could not make you into each other, of course. Such a change is impossible, and I guessed would be too strange for either to live with.”

“Thank you, you guessed right,” said Astrid, who couldn’t imagine becoming her husband, let alone making love to a woman who now looked like her old self!

“I am glad. Instead, I took from Marcus his ideal of the ultimate woman. An ideal partner that would be his personal fantasy. This is what he will be moulded into. For you Astrid, I did the same. The ultimate man, idealised and perfect. You shall become him. And both of you shall find irrepressible attraction to the other.”

Marcus and Astrid were briefly silent. Both could barely look at the other. For one, there was the personal realisation that even beyond their love and attraction to one another, both still had . . . ideas, one could say, of a more arousing individual. A hidden fantasy. This was obvious to anyone, but no one ever admitted it! For two, the knowledge that they would become their own personal fantasy was something else entirely.

Marcus swallowed. A chill was down his spine. He wasn’t entirely sure exactly what his deepest fantasy would look like - it had been hidden away since he fell in love with Astrid and known her and her body so long - but it made him anxious nonetheless.

“Look, great spirit, I understand what you are trying to do, but this is not what we wanted. I ask - I demand - that you change us back.”

The golden light spread further.

“I am sorry, I cannot. The magic is in effect now.”

“What if we came to you again?” Astrid asked.

“I can only be visited once, dear ones. No, I’m afraid your changes are irreversible . . . for now.”

Astrid’s eyes widened. “For now?”

“They must be completed. And you must . . . bear a child. This part of your wish must be realised. After this, you will have achieved the wish in its entirety, and there is a chance your forms can be reverted by your court wizard, should you wish them to be. But you must want them to be.”

The light expanded, becoming impossible to see through. It was blinding.

“This is the only way,” the well spirit proclaimed. “I am sorry that this is not how you desired things, but perhaps you shall find peace with it in the end.”

“Wait!” Marcus called. “Isn’t there any other-”

The light dissipated, leaving them in a dark room before Mina. The lamps turned back on as her eyes opened.

“-way,” Marcus finished.

Mina blinked as she collected herself.

“The connection is broken,” she said. “I shall not be able to reclaim it again. But it seems you have your answers, even if they were not what you desired.”

Marcus lowered a hand to his stomach, still shocked by what he had heard. He gulped a little, even as Astrid placed a hand upon his smooth shoulder.

“We will still get a child, my love,” she said tenderly. “And you will be a man again, after a, well, a break, one might say!”

Marcus nodded slowly. “Do you have a basket you don’t require?” he asked Mina.”

“Several, I think. Why?”

“Because I believe I am about to throw up.”

It was not, at least, morning sickness that followed. But as Marcus gagged at the thought of becoming a pregnant woman and eventually giving birth, Astrid couldn’t help but feel that upending his lunch into a bowl was a kind of training for what he would go through as a woman.

It was, after all, the only way to turn back, it seemed.

To Be Continued . . .