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Princess Sara’s POV
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“It’s decided you shall be sold as slaves to the highest bidders!” Mistress Heron stood tall, reaveling her long and slender neck. “Girls!” she called.
Three of the peacock girls entered the room and unfurled their colorful tails. The eye shaped patterns on the feathers lit up and as the girls began to sway their hips in wide circles I felt my eyes drawn to them.
“That’s right, farmgirl.” The cyan haired girl called out to me, “Just keep watching me. Feel yourself being drawn into me.”
I felt a slight pang of annoyance at being called a farmgirl. I was a Princess, wasn’t? No, that couldn’t be right. In the piercing eyes of her peacock tail I could see myself dressed in simple blue denim dungarees, my braless breasts exposed to the elements and barely covered. No, I must be a farmgirl dreaming of being a Princess! . I could see cyan hairs lips silently mouth the words “simple country farm girl.” A simple-minded farmers’ daughter who don’t know ‘nothing ‘bout bein’ a high falutin’ Princess. Just a… a pig farmer! Come to town with mah prized pig, Connie!
“What are you?” Cyan asks.
“Ah’m jus’ a simple pig farmer.” I spoke slowly, “Ah don’t got book smarts like you city folk.”
“Heh,” the peacock girl smirked, her smile beautiful yet cruel, “if you say so, sugah.” She mocks.
“Papa sent me here to sell mah piggy at y’alls fancy auction,” Ah say with in mah southern drawl, “Wouldja mind helpin’ out a stu - pid country gal find her way? This ain’t no county fayre, I don’t know which ways ah’m going!”
“Yes, dear. I’ll help.We can’t have a stupid bimbo like you wandering off and getting swept up by a smooth talking city slicker. Next, thing you know your legs will be wrapped around a pole and you’ll have men shoving notes in your underwear.”
“Ya really think ah’d be a pole dancer? Ah hear they make big bucks!” I ask enthusiastically.
“Yes but that’s not why you’re here remember” Cyan tutted and rolled her eyes, “Now sleep.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” ah say and close mah eyes.
“It’s a shame we can’t keep you around here like this. You were such a proud bitch that I quite enjoyed watching you debase yourself so thoroughly. All it took was a little suggestion and you became this caricature of a country girl of your own volition. I think you deserve to stay like this if this is how you believe country women are… but that choice isn’t up to me. Still, I could always leave a trigger…” Cyan smiled wickedly, “When you hear the words ‘Apple Pie’ you will become Sara the farm girl.”
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Maedel’s POV
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As Mistress Heron stands to her full height I reach for the sword at my side. Before I can draw it she lifts her arms to her sides and I’m stunned by a flash of white light coming from the snow colored feathers that stretch from her arms to her thighs.
“Kneel.” She says, simply. Before I can react I find myself dropping to my knees. I can’t turn my face but out of the corner of my eyes I see Andrew follow suite.
She towers over me now. Her thick black eyebrows sharpen, giving her a serious and commanding look that draws my sight to her eyes. She stares into me.
“Pigs.” She says simply, her voice filled with disgust. “Filthy, dirt covered swine.”
My face becomes hot and flushed. I feel guilty, like I’ve been caught. She knows! She knows what I am. What me and Andrew did.
“Dirty, rutting pigs.” She reads my mind.
“What do you have to say for yourself, sow?” she asks, words dripping full of contempt.
I try to think of something. I have to explain myself. She’s got it wrong! The words don’t come but the pressure doesn’t stop. She’s staring right at me. I have to say something. Anything!
“WREEEE!” I squeal. I gasp, realizing what I’d done. I hadn’t said anything, just squealed like a pig.
“You lied to me. You said you weren’t a pig.” She states. I lower my head, unable to look at her accusing eyes. “You are a pig, aren’t you?”
I nod and oink in agreement. I am a pig. A very naughty, lying pig.
“Bad pig!” Mistress says, sternly. “Are there any more pigs I should know about? Tell me, sow and your punishment shall be less severe.”
I feel guilt well up but look to Andrew nonetheless. I see he looks guilty too and we’re both reminded of ourselves rutting like common swine. I look back up to Mistress, pleadingly.
“WREEEE!” I squeal again.
Mistress tuts loudly and demands we follow her to the stys where we belong.
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Princess Hazel’s POV
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It’s a trap! I turn to see one of the peacock dressed greeter girls walk into the room and her tail spreads to its full size. It is black and crimson. She’s dangerous! I know it. My blood boils and I prepare to fight her but then I see the bright, rainbow color eyes on her tail.
“Don’t be angry, Princess. You are only seeing red. You’re like a bull in a china shop. So silly. You just need to calm down. That’s right. Easy girl. So tense. Just relax.”
I want to argue. I’m not some simple Princess to be taken lightly. I’m a fighter. I’m… not angry. There isn’t anything to be angry about. She’s just a girl. Why was I mad. That’s just… silly. My shoulders relax and I smile. Her smile fades and she looks worried and I feel worried too.
“You’re scared, aren’t you, Princess?” I nod, “Just a scared little Princess, looking for help. You came here looking for friends didn’t you?”
We did! That’s why we’re here. We’re far from home. We’re lost. I look into the eyes.
“Don’t worry! I’m your friend. Trust in me. We’re friends, aren’t we sweet little Princess?”
I nod, meekly.
The girl slides the straps of her leotard down her shoulders even as she continued to dance her hypnotic dance. The tight, silky material easily slipped down further and further, freeing her delicate breasts. Her nipples were covered by matching rainbow-eyed pasties that left a hint of her pink areola. She began to jiggle her breasts in slow circles watching me with a hundred predatory eyes.
“You like this, don’t you? You want it.” I nodded, slowly.
“You like my bountiful bosom. You want to come closer. Bury your face in my softness. Let the bright and pretty colors take you back. Back, further and further to a simpler time when you were just a child. You were such a good girl, weren’t you?”
“I was a good girl.” I nod, my eyes transfixed on her bouncing breasts. I see myself, much smaller, my hair in pigtails. I’m wearing a pastel pink onesie with a yellow duckie on the front. The tell-tale bulge of big, thick diaper surrounds my waist giving me a bottom heavy appearance. In my mind I hear it crinkle as I shift unsteadily on my feet. I place a thumb in my mouth and begin sucking, rhythmically.
“Yes, you were. Such a darling little girl. Come snuggle with mommy.” Mama says and I awkwardly shuffle forwards and rest my head on her boobies.
“That’s right. Now, be a good girl and close your eyes.”
My eyes lazily droop shut. I yawn and fall asleep.