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Knight & Lady, Part 3 (MtF, FtM TG Preg)
🕑 Added 2024-12-12 22:22:57 +0000 UTCBy 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.
Chapter 3: First Signs
Marcus frowned as he served strips of cooked meat and eggs for breakfast.
“I think I’ve stretched my clothes too loose,” he remarked. “Either that, or I’ve getting leaner from all this hunting lately.”
Astrid looked over her handsome, stalwart knight of a husband.
“Indeed, my love, it does look a bit loose on you. We shall simply have to fatten you right back up when we return to Vortis. And have a bath. Many baths, in fact. I don’t think I can face Jenna without one, so I shall have to send a note ahead for her to draw me one. Us one, perhaps.”
“That’s if you’ll fit,” Marcus joked, still fiddling with his clothing. ‘You may be a bit . . .”
He trailed off as he gestured a stomach bump with his hands. Astrid simply smiled, touching her still-flat belly with her finger.
“One can only hope.”
“Do you think my seed has taken?”
“I wouldn’t know, husband. I’ve never experienced it before, thanks to that foul Atarax and his curse. But . . . some women just know, so perhaps I shall too.”
Marcus frowned as he tried to tighten his tunic. It really was far too loose around the shoulders. He had definitely become too lean, and his hair was descending too much; he’d need to ask his wife to cut it soon.
“And what is your body saying now?” he asked, shifting closer to place an arm around his wife’s slim waist.
“It’s telling me . . . it’s telling me that it’s full of energy. A bit of extra muscle, perhaps.”
“Hmm, that could be a sign, yes?”
She threw him a small eye roll. “My dashing knight, you reveal yourself as a naive former peasant sometimes, you know.”
He chuckled. “And why is that?”
“Because a woman is meant to become exhausted when in her first stages of pregnancy. The energy comes later. There is a . . . tenderness. In the chest, I mean.”
He raised a hand to fondle her.
“You crude tyrant! Out in the open, no less!”
“It’s not like there’s anyone for miles,” he said, continuing to rub her chest. “Any tenderness?”
“Quite the opposite. They feel duller than usual. And, I know you’ll be saddened to hear, but smaller as well. Reduced. All this moving about and travelling is making me lean as well, husband.”
Marcus frowned at this. He wasn’t so sure. In fact, his wife was looking unexpectedly statuesque as of late. It had only been a couple of weeks since they had left the ancient well and its keeper, but her bearing was more regal, her stature seemingly taller, and he’d noticed that lithe, pale body had more athleticism to it; the beginnings of impressive muscle - at least for a woman - on her arms and legs, and even upon her stomach.
But that wasn’t on his thoughts right now. Insted, more primal instincts were storring as he continued to cup his wife’s slightly reduced breast. She moaned a little - clearly, some good feeling was still there.
“Marcus, you truly are insatiable.”
“Well, if you aren’t with my child, then I think we should just keep trying,” he said, voice smooth and flirtatious. “And the stars are too beautiful not to make love beneath them, wouldn’t you say?”
Astrid had been raised as a proper woman, but Marcus had taught her more than enough about the pleasures of nature, however taboo they could be for a respected noblewoman.
“Beneath the stars then,” she said, starting to undo the stays of her travelling dress. “Let’s make it a fertile omen.”
It would be, just not in the way either could possibly guess.
***
The pair finally passed the volcanic hellscape in all its treachery and arrived at the vast plains with its colossal beasts. Both were feeling sore from their journeys, their mounts also, but the true anxiety lay not in any danger but fear that the entity of the ancient well had not truly heeded their wish.
“I don't feel any more virile, I must confess,” Marcus said as he rode alongside his wife.
She smirked. “What, did you expect to sprout muscles upon muscles, my love? To gain ever more considerable girth in your manhood?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No, not exactly. But I didn't expect to lose muscle either. I swear, I am positively slimming. And there must be bugs here: I can't stop scratching my damned chest.”
Astrid was sympathetic,but a little smug. She was proud of her beauty, but this great journey had hardened her. she had cut her bright flame orange hair shorter, and her emerald eyes shined a little less with naivete now. But this return journey had gifted her with energy and power: her biceps were evident, and her calves were like those of the female Hideti warriors. Unfortunately, the simple rations had slimmed her beautiful chest, much to her disappointment, but on the whole she was more powerfully built. She could have even sworn that she was somehow taller, with a slightly more barrel-shaped chest, though she knew that to be impossible.
“If it's any consolation, my love,” she said. “If you are worried about feeling less of aman, it seems my own femininity is waning. Observe . . . and despair.”
Taking the reins in one hand, she rolled up one sleeve and flexed her bicep. Marcus indeed observed this, but rather than be disappointed, he slowly smiled in a quite particular way. Astrid's eyes gleamed with surprise.
“Oh, I know that face. Don't tell me you find my unladylike musculature appreciable?”
Marcus chuckled. “You know, I never imagined I would! I like a dainty, fair, and well-bosomed woman, as you well know. But this . . . hmm, this opens up a new area of unexpected interest for me. Who would have known?”
Astrid giggled, though it was lower in register than her usual sweet voice.
“Then I shall show off my new strength with pride, husband. Though I'm afraid to say my well-bosomed aspect, as you put it, has not kept pace with other growth.”
She stuck out her chest, and Marcus made an over-the-top display of despair.
“Oh, they're not that lost!” she declared, throwing an apple his way.
Marcus caught it easily, held it up, angling it so that from his view the apple was equal in size to her chest as he squinted, the fruit overlaid upon her bosom. Astrid was aghast.
“You better not be measuring me,” she warned.
“I would never,my dear. But how about when we get back, we eat a true feast. Let some extra poundage refill some old familiar places.”
She actually snorted this time. “And to think you managed to court a refined noblewoman such as I. If you weren't so deceptively dashing I would never have - Marcus, look!”
Marcus was quick. He slid his sword from its sheath and turned to where his wife was pointing. The weapon was heavier than he remembered it being, but he still held it with practised mastery. It wasn't needed, however. There was no thread, just a sight of captivating majesty.
“By all the Gods,” he whispered to the wind.
In the far distance, a gargantuan colossus was rising up from the other side of a great steppe hill of blue grass. The creature was enormous, easily taller than the mightiest of castles, and with six long legs thudding heavily as it moved implacably across the plain. It's scaly hide was coated in tufts of that same blue grass, and it's head was a shaggy thing, low and flat like a tortoises, lowering on a great stalk to consume patches of reeds below. It had eight yellow eyes, large and round. It was like nothing Marcus had ever seen.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Astrid called, pointing out the hundreds of birds nesting on the creature and flying about it.
To Marcus’ own shock, his eyes began to fill with tears.
“It truly is,” he replied, voice cracking a little higher. “It truly is.”
Astrid pulled up alongside him, even as the tears continued to flow. He had to keep wiping them away. Astrid beamed, caressing his hand as she leaned from her horse.
“I love seeing a new side to you,my love. I had no idea you could be stirred to emotion so.”
Marcus coughed, getting control of himself. He ran a hand through his longer hair.
“Me either,” he said, voice cracking again.
***
The first signs of change continued in their subtlety as the pair reached the starlit coves. Marcus had fought off the creatures lying in wait before, and he kept his eye out again. Surprisingly, it was actually his wife who proved sharper eyed, however.
“Marcus, watch out! It's camouflaged!” she called, in response to a near-invisible serpent that was literally posing as a stream of water. Not in a stream, but as one, unfurling to reveal itself as an elemental being of great size. Marcus slew the beast, though once more his practice with his sword seemed to have waned with his muscles. Once again Astrid proved to help overcome this meagre handicap: in a fit of unexpected passion that briefly terrified Marcus, she launched forward with the small shortsword he had given her and hacked at the creature's reef-like tail. The creature was felled, but Marcus could scarcely believe it.
“My love, that was so unlike you!”
“I - I know,” she said, still wide-eyed and struggling to resheathe her sword. “Gods, what was I thinking! It was just like this - this aggressive rush came over me!”
“Well, try not to get too aggressive, my love. I swore to protect you, didn't I? Though . . .”
She put her hands on her hips. They too had become seemingly less broad in the past few nights.
“Hmm?”
“Well, a mood change like that . . .”
“Could be from being with child,” she murmured, suddenly ecstatic
Sadly, the first true disappointment followed a mere week later, as the pair crossed the Zakarian Desert. Astrid had been feeling bloated and tender, her still-thinning breasts briefly rising in size. After a small bout of sickness, she was beginning to truly hope that her husband's seed had finally, finally taken.
Only to wake in her tent the next morning, her bleeding having arrived.
Astrid wept in Marcus's arms, and this time he openly wept with her, his emotions further stirred than they had ever been.
“It is all for nothing,” she whimpered. “It was all false hope.”
“Don't say that yet,” Marcus replied, holding her. He didn't want to say anything, but his wife felt . . . thicker. Not fatter, but literally larger in stature. Broader. He hoped this was a nascent change: perhaps her body had to become a bit more stoutly in shape and bearing in order to, well, bear a child. He didn’t mention this, however, for fear of getting her hopes up too much.
“You were already more sceptical of magic than I,” Astrid said.
“Well, I was wrong, wasn’t I? The ancient well’s spirit did speak to us, and I refuse to believe it was all for nothing. We will make a child together, Astrid. I just . . . I know it. I can feel it in my gut.”
His gut took that exact moment to make a loud, guttural sound. It was enough to make Astrid burst out laughing suddenly.
“Your gut sounds hungry more than anything!” she said, finding humour despite her sadness.
He pawed at it. “And here I’ve been eating less. I swear, it’s like my stomach is shifting about lately!”
“I imagine that it would feel quite unfortunate,” Astrid said dryly.
“Yes, it does, and - ah. You’re mocking me.”
“Just a little,” she said, mimicking the motion with her thumb and forefinger.
Marcus left his wife in her tent, feeding the horses and readying them for travel to the edge of the desert. The news that Astrid was not with child saddened him, but he had to hope against hope that this journey would be worth it in the end. He stared across the beautiful, barren horizon, scratching his chest as he did so. It really did feel like his nipples were swollen lately. In fact, his entire chest was beginning to feel a bit sore, and almost . . . flabby. Rounded, perhaps. And as surely as his wife had become a bit more statuesque, so too did he feel smaller as of late. Lither, yes, but also literally shorter, as if the journey was grinding him down. Hell, his legs and forearms were losing their body hair, like his own manhood was being sapped.
He had no idea how true that was.
***
It was when they were only a day’s travel from Heersun, one of the Jade Cities of the east, that the pair realised something was wrong. The crossing through the Zakarian Desert had been tough, much tougher than Marcus remembered, but Astrid had acquitted herself with far less complaint, a complete reversal of how it had been the first time they had passed through. Marcus’ skin seemed so much more sensitive, while Astrid found herself more rugged, the sandstorms whipping at her skin but causing little damage. When they tented down for the night, Marcus would grumble and turn in their shared bedding, rubbing his chest and murmuring with irritation at his nipples. His voice, Astrid thought, was light and almost feminine. At first she thought this was comical, but then it continued, and her own voice was likewise lower, becoming the kind of contralto favoured by powerful female singers back upon the Vortis opera stage.
Sleep seemed to bring a kind of peace, at least, but upon waking it was as if their bodies had changed further, far more than during the day. Marcus was awkwardly hiding his more prominent chest, while she in turn was frowning at her increasingly flat equivalent. The various curves, however petite they had been, that Astrid usually took pride in were now smoothing out. Her hips, which she had once imagined would be excellent for producing healthy children, had lost much of their expanse and fat. And while she’d never had the most rondure backside, it was somewhat diminished to find it, well, diminished. All of these changes, even the tougher nature of her face, she had taken to be a result of their rugged adventure. It wasn’t like she could shave all too successfully during such travels, so surely that would explain the greater hairs upon her legs and even her arms, even if they were surprisingly . . . thick. Right?
But then she saw her husband’s face after they had reached an oasis at the edge of the Zakarian Desert. This was a place for numerous travellers, traders, and merchant caravans to coalesce before undertaking journeys across the Jade region. They had chosen to tent at the edge of this encampment and resupply before reaching the cities proper. The two had discussed long into the night the various luxuries they looked forward to seeing. But now all of that was forgotten from Astrid’s mind as she beheld her still-sleeping husband. The light of the morning sun was shining through their tent, illuminating its interior just enough for her to take in the softness of his features that simply shouldn’t have been there.
“Impossible,” she whispered, reaching a hand out to gently stroke his face.
He moaned softly as she did so, and even that sound had an androgynous quality to it, where once it would have been low and manly.
Her husband’s facial hair was gone. Completely gone. Not just the scruff he had been looking forward to shaving when they reached Heersun, but any evidence that he had been able to grow facial hair too. The skin around his chin and mouth and cheeks were as smooth as a baby’s bottom. And that wasn’t all: his hair had grown another inch, seemingly overnight, and now was long enough to fall to his chin. Marcus’ jaw had lost its square-shaped quality, taking on a rounder formation, and his wider nose had thinned somewhat, looking almost dignified in shape. His brows looked as if they’d been plucked, just a little, losing some of their inherent bushiness and gaining a feminine touch to them. Even his cheekbones had changed: they had come out of hiding and rising a little. All in all, he looked to be . . . feminising.
With a trembling hand, a dread thought came over Astrid. She raised a dainty hand - well, it had been dainty, but seemed thicker and tougher now - to her own face, pawing at her chin and upper lip. She shuddered with horror at the sensation that met her.
Hair.
Facial hair.
Like that of a man. Light, perhaps barely visible, but there.
“Oh Gods,” she whimpered. She lowered her hand down to body beneath their shared cover. Her breasts were still present, but even flatter than they had been. Her nipples were smaller, their feelings duller. And further down . . .
Something had changed about her womanhood. It was . . . distended, as if her most sensitive part was swollen out from above her feminine hood. She shivered, a terrible chill descending down her spine. Was she bigger? Her husband seemed to be equally large as her by this point. Or had he shrunk? By the Gods, had they been ignoring this all along? How had they not seen the signs?
It was at that moment her husband opened his eyes. For a moment he simply blinked, rousing himself to wakefulness, but then he smiled widely.
“My love,” he said, voice croaky, a little light. “How are you this morning?”
Astrid swallowed. She had no idea what to say. How else to tell him?
“My love,” she said, her own voice that little bit deeper. “I think . . . I think the wish is working.”
He shifted up, the blanket falling down a little. His nipples became visible. He obviously didn’t realise yet, but they were larger. Thicker. More prominent. And his chest was . . . rounder. In two places.
“It is? Are you - are you pregnant?”
Astrid swallowed. “No. I - I don’t think I will ever be pregnant, husband.”
“I don’t understand.”
She placed a hand on his chest, leaving him to shiver a little from the unexpected sensation.
“My love, the magic is working, but not in a way either of imagined. I think . . . I think we’re changing places.”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that soon I shall be a man, and you a woman. And . . . and you will be the one who carries our child.”
Marcus’ jaw fell. Before he could even express his shock, however, he looked down at himself.
“Dear Gods, no!”
To Be Continued . . .
