The Emperor. But it wasn't the normal picture she saw. It wasn't the usual mature man, but a younger man, with tanned skin and dark hair, the detail of the card even adding a bit of stubble. For some reason he looked familiar, but Andrea couldn't pinpoint why.
"Well, that's useless." Andrea was about ready to toss the card, when she looked up. In the distance she saw the medieval looking castle. Emperors lived in castles, right? Maybe it was a clue after all. She stuffed the card in her pocket, not noticing the faint glow as it did so.
She started her long walk to the castle, navigating her way through the twisting streets of the Island's town. She passed bars, hotels, rides, all of them with young men and women inside enjoying themselves. There was even one building she could have sworn was a brothel. She walked quickly by that one, feeling herself blush. This place really was given over to hedonism. She felt odd as she approached the castle, like her skin felt to tight, and a faint pounding formed in her temples, the start of a powerful headache. "Probably nerves." She kept mumbling it to herself as she continued her walk. The closer she got to the castle, the less people she saw. She wasn't surprised though, she figured the people who came to this island were more interested in the entertainment than some replica castle. She crossed the bridge over the moat and through the gate into the castle.
It was also empty. Not of things. There was art, sculptures, everything. The place practically dripped with gaudy richness, there were just no people. She looked down the hallways and finally decided to start exploring down one. It was as good a place as any. Maybe there was a dungeon or something, she knew it was a morbid thought, but she couldn't help but think that was where her brother might be. She passed an open door and stopped. Had someone been in there, she could have sworn there was. She backtracked and stepped through the door, spotting an unfamiliar woman across the room looking right at her.
"Hello?" She rushed in the woman's direction, and the woman rushed towards her. After several steps she stopped dead, staring at the large gilt frame mirror she had seen. But that was hardly her own reflection. Her normally mousey brown hair was a deep black, and shorter than she kept it. Instead of brushing her shoulders, it barely went past her jaw. And she filled out her normally slightly baggy clothes, the fabric clinging to her expanded frame. She pulled a stand of hair in front of her eyes, confirming that yes, it was shorter and darker. How had that happened, and how had she not noticed?
She saw the dull glow from her pocket, and pulled out the card, which flickered like a candle flame. It couldn't be.. but she heard the gypsy's voice in her head. "The Island will set the price."
A wave of nausea overwhelmed her, she dropped the card and gripped the frame of the mirror to steady herself. Through her wavering vision, she could see herself getting taller in the mirror, the hem of her shirt and the waist of her pants pulling apart, exposing inches of bare skin. Skin that had been pale, but now had a slight tan to it. She looked up at her face, still mostly recognizable as her, and noticed the same slight tan. What sort of price was this?
She kept adjusting her grip on the mirror, and the sudden pop of the stitching of her shoes coming apart told her why. She wasn't only getting taller, her hands and feet were growing as well. Her toes stuck out through the gap they had popped open in her shoes, stretching the fake leather to its limits until the sole popped free and the final seam gave way, leaving her barefoot. Her shirt and pants felt way too tight. And while the rest of her wasn't growing at nearly the rate of her hands and feet, the fabric was still strained. She felt the fastener of her bra snap apart under her stretched shirt, just as the v-neck tore halfway down her torso, exposing her breasts to the air. Her nipples were erect, and the fabric brushing against them sent a shiver down her spine. Everything felt super sensitive, each little brush of fabric against her altering body and distinct pleasing feeling. The seams of her pants stretched slowly apart, the sides of her legs being exposed by inches. The button popped off the front of her pants, plinking off the mirror and hitting the floor. Underneath, her panties were stretched to near translucency, the curve of her flesh just visible beneath.
Her darker hair continued to retract into her head, and once it grew up beyond her ears it started to stick up instead of lay flat, making a wild, bedraggled, bed-head style. The tear in her shirt finished its path down her torso, leaving little more than scraps on her upper body, which she slowly peeled off with the remains of her bra. Her breasts looked smaller on her expanded frame, her broader shoulders seeming to dwarf them slightly, and she had never been well-endowed to begin with. Her pants were next to finally give way, leaving a pool of tattered denim around her feet. The muscle tone on her body quickly became more obvious, her legs and arms quickly packing on bulk from the expanding muscles. With her legs suddenly shifting, she felt unbalanced and was forced to grab the mirror with both hands to hold herself up causing her new biceps to bulge, pressing veins against her skin. As her already flat stomach suddenly began to pop with a tightly cobbled six pack, she couldn't help but stare at a reflection that looked more like a novice female bodybuilder than her own petite, mousy self.
She examined her breasts again, which looked smaller yet, no, not looked. They were smaller, and still shrinking. Their teardrop shape slowly retreating into the rounded mounds of muscle that had formed underneath them, nipples shrinking as the turned downwards, hugging tightly against her new pectorals. Not a female bodybuilder, a male jock. No, not male, at least she didn't....
Her eyes widened as she saw a bulge forming in her panties. Small, but under the taught fabric, painfully obvious. She looked up at her own shocked face, a face that was no longer recognizable as hers. As she watched, the last of her feminine features began to melt away. The round softness of her face was suddenly overtaken with a sharp jawline and prominent chin. Her petite nose swelled to fit her enlarged face, her brows thickening and shadowing eyes that swirled from a dark brown to a bright blue. Her attention was drawn back to that odd feeling in her groin, which was getting more and more unpleasant, as the tight fabric restricted her growing bulge. She shoved her hands in the already tight panties, shivering as her thicker fingers brushed against her miniature shaft as she quickly explored between her legs. She found nothing but unbroken flesh. Her womanhood was gone. She pulled her hand back out as if burned, staring in horror at the mass growing between her legs. She didn't want to pull down her panties, she didn't want to see what she knew was there. As if not seeing it would make it not true.
Dark hair began to curl over the top of her panties, her small bush getting larger. She could even see some dark hairs pocking out from the stretched fabric of her underwear. The skin on her arms and legs looked to get darker, but as she bent her head to look not at the reflection but at her actual skin, she saw it was hair growing in on her limbs, slowly darkening to the same black as the hair on her head. She lifted her arms, and saw that hair had grown in thick and dark under there as well. Hair began to creep up from her thicker bush, growing in a straight line right up her stomach. Her upper lip and chin quickly darkened with a couple days worth of stubble, followed by rapidly thickening sideburns.
As curly dark hair began to grow in the center of her chest, between the pectorals, her growing cock refused to be ignored any longer. The head popped up past the band of her panties, the growing shaft quickly swelling with blood. The hardening shaft pushed down the panties, exposing more and more of its length, a glistening dribble of pre sliding down from the swollen glans. Her revulsion at what she saw was quickly overrun by her curiosity. She pushed down her panties, letting the abused fabric fall to the floor, her heavy sack now left to sway free between her thighs. She brushed her hand slowly against the new shaft, shivering slightly at the new sensations. Wrapping her large hand around her now five inch shaft, she slowly began to work her cock. Each stroke seeming to coax more length out of the growing organ.
Hair continued to expand along her chest, a light coating of curly black hair coating her meaty pectorals. The treasure trail up her stomach widened, coating her abs in black hair that did little to hide their taught definition. She pumped her cock up to six inches. More stubble spread out along her face, her jaw and cheeks sporting a coating of coarse stubble, accenting her thick dark brows. Her cock reached seven inches, her hand pumped faster and faster on her manhood, her back arching at approaching orgasm. A bulge formed on her throat, and her moans dropped a couple octaves. Eight inches and every nerve in her body fired, all the energy coursing through her body focusing on her cock as it splashed stream after stream of thick white semen across the mirror's surface.
She leaned heavily on the hand still supporting her on the frame of the mirror, her eyes going over her new form as she came down from her first male orgasm. She looked like the young man in the card. And now that she could see him in the flesh rather than as a drawing, she knew why he looked familiar. It was one of her brother's friends, the ringleader of the group, in fact. He had come to this island, too. What was his name...? Andrew? Andrew. She was Andrew. He was Andrew.
"He wasn't using his body anymore. Seems the island wanted you to have it." Andrew looked up and saw the reflection of the fortune teller standing behind him. He quickly spun around, lost balance and fell backwards, slamming his head into the mirror. The world quickly dimmed and he blacked out.