Pick a Card, Any Card

Christopher Addicock stood proudly before the Queen, eyes glazed over, a self-satisfied grin plastered across his face. True, he was in chains and flanked by armed guards, but that was beside the point. He was in the Queen's presence and would finally have a chance to be the hero he was sure his country needed. Addicock had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in his head. He would let the Queen know, in no uncertain terms, that a woman could never rule a kingdom because women couldn't even rule themselves. They were slaves to their emotions and their sinful appetites and therefore had to submit to men. And when he was finished with his thunderous address on the Queen's wanton, whorish ways, she would fall at his feet and beg forgiveness, overawed by his manly righteousness. It was going to be so sweet.

A woman's voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Mr. Addicock? Are you with us?," asked the Queen.

"Um. What? Oh, um, yes. Sorry. I was just, you know, going over what I wanted to say."

"Excuse me?"

"You know. How they always do it in the plays. At the end, the judge asks if the prisoner has anything to say before sentence is passed. The prisoner gives a speech. The courtroom bursts into applause. The prisoner is freed. That sort of thing."

"Ah! I see," said the Queen. "Now I understand. You are under the impression that I want to hear what you have to say for yourself. You are mistaken. I do not."

"But that's not fair! I've got a whole speech planned! I've been working on it for ages!"

"Zip it!," said the Queen, cutting him off with a hard stare. "You've already had your chance to voice your opinion. You made your views quite clear when you painted 'The Queen's a whore!' in ten-foot tall letters on the castle walls. You were even more eloquent when you unfurled a banner at the royal jousting tournament that read 'The Queen sucks Satan's cock and swallows his demonic seed.'"

The Queen gestured to the guards and, before Addicock could utter another word, they tied a gag tightly across his mouth.

"That's better," said the Queen. "Do we have your full attention now, Mr. Addicock? Do you have a better understanding of your situation? Nod if the answer is yes."

For a moment, Addicock tried to come up with some sort of defiant act, but a sharp elbow to the ribs from one of the guards put an end to all thoughts of protest. Defeated, he nodded yes.

"Excellent!," said the Queen. "Now we're getting somewhere. So, here's where things stand. Your words, however dim-witted and sophomoric, still amount to treason. You just can't go around saying that your divinely anointed ruler is a syphilitic trollop. It's not nice."

Addicock' eyes grew wide. He had expected to be charged with disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct at worst, but had never even thought about treason!

The Queen paused to let her words sink in, and then continued. "Well, as I'm sure you know, the punishment for treason is death. And not just any old death. The slowest, most painful death that our ancient ancestors could come up with. And let me tell you, those guys were some miserable sick fucks."

Addicock slumped to the floor and began to groan.

"There, there," said the Queen. "It's not so bad as all that. As it turns out, I am a merciful Queen and am prepared to offer you an alternative. Would you like to hear about your alternative?"

Addicock nodded quickly, desperate to find a way out of his predicament.

"Good. Now, Mr. Addicock. I am going to have your gag removed. However, if you utter one word that is anything less than polite and respectful, you will go straight to the men with the hot pokers and the nasty pinchy, pointy things. Do you understand?"

Again Addicock nodded, and the guards removed the gag.

"Thank you, your majesty!," Addicock exclaimed. "If you let me go, I promise never to say mean things about you ever again! Cross my heart and hope to die!"

"That's sweet of you to say," replied the Queen, "but I didn't say I would let you go. I said I would offer you an alternative to execution." The Queen clapped her hands and a servant walked over to Addicock with what appeared to be a large deck of cards. The cards shimmered and glowed, giving off an eerie green-blue light.

"As I'm sure you've already surmised, these are no ordinary divination cards," the Queen explained. "These cards don't predict the future. They change the future. Every card a person draws from the deck alters them forever. If you would avoid a traitor's death, you must agree to draw six cards. Think carefully before you agree to play our little game. The changes can be surprising and they are, as I said, permanent."

"I agree," whispered Addicock after a moment's hesitation. "I really have no choice."

"Are you sure?" asked the Queen. "You don't want to know what kinds of changes the cards produce? Not just a little bit curious? Who knows, perhaps there are fates worse than death?"

"Maybe," said Addicock, "but I trust in your mercy. Whatever I have said about you in the past, I don't believe you are so cruel as to save me from one torment only to subject me to another."

"Interesting theory," mused the Queen, "which may or may not be sound. However, as it happens, I don't actually know what changes the cards will produce. I have some guesses," she said with a wink, "but the cards choose the fate you most deserve and I don't know for certain what that is yet. I suppose we'll find out together."

With that, the Queen sat up straight and spoke in her sternest, most authoritative voice. "Christopher Addicock, having been found guilty of saying some horrible, stupid things, has chosen to draw six cards from the Deck of Fate in lieu of suffering a slow, painful death. Mr. Addicock, draw your first card and show it to the court."

Addicock pulled a card from the deck and turned it over. The card depicted a cat nestled in the arms of a maiden. As Addicock stared at the picture, it seemed to come to life, the maiden stroking the cat's belly, the cat purring in response.

"What does it mean?," he asked.

"I have no idea," replied the Queen. "Each card means something different depending on the person who draws it and, in any case, the cards' effects do not show themselves for twenty-four hours. I hope you like surprises! Now choose another card."

Addicock did as he was told, revealing two handsome young men walking down a dusty road. Each held a stout oak walking staff that sounded a low thump when it struck the ground.

"Ah ha!," exclaimed the Queen. "The cat AND two staffs! How interesting!"

"Interesting in what way?," asked Addicock.

"Oh, I don't know," said the Queen, smiling and looking up at the ceiling. "Just interesting in an interesting sort of way. Less talk. More cards. Pick!"

Addicock's third card was even more mysterious than the first two. It showed a pair of French doors, thrown wide open with the curtains drawn back. The curtains rippled in the breeze and Addicock thought he saw someone peeking in from the outside.

"Three cards drawn! Three to go!," said the Queen. "Halfway to your new life, Mr. Addicock."

Confused, but resigned to whatever fate had in store, Addicock drew his fourth and fifth cards in quick succession. The fourth card was a rose bush, covered in buds and just on the cusp of blooming. The fifth showed a woman with a scarf tied tightly across her eyes reaching out with both hands, searching for her unseen companions. Addicock thought he heard the blindfolded women laugh and could have sworn he smelled roses and fresh, damp earth.

"One more card," said the Queen, "and your fate is sealed."

Addicock didn't like the way that sounded, but he had no choice but to continue. He took a moment this time before drawing, and then carefully pulled the bottom card from the deck.

When he turned it over, it revealed a white iris in full bloom, a dew drop on one petal, and a bee buzzing around its center in search of pollen.

"What does the flower signify?," asked Addicock, now more confused than ever.

"Well," said the Queen, "sometimes a flower is just a flower. But, in this case, I wouldn't count on it. Guards! Take Mr. Addicock to his room and see that he is well fed and gets some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day for him and he's going to need his beauty sleep!" For some reason, the thought of Mr. Addicock needing beauty sleep struck the Queen as absurdly funny, and she burst into laughter as he was led from the throne room.

Despite his confusion and anxiety, Addicock fell into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment he lay down and closed his eyes. When he awoke, the sun was high in the sky. As the cobwebs cleared from his mind, he stretched his arms over his head, pulling the sheet down and off his body in the process. When he reached down to pull the sheet back up, he froze, his eyes open wide in astonishment and horror. He had breasts! He had large, full women's breasts, topped with pink areolas and prominent nipples! And that wasn't the end of it! His hands trembled as he made his way down his torso, tracing the soft curve of a womanly hip, and held his breath as he reached between legs, hoping he was wrong, but knowing full well he was not. Instead of a shaft and balls, his fingers found delicate folds. The cards had transformed him into a woman!

His shock, or more accurately hers, was quickly eclipsed by other feelings. It wasn't just her body that had been transformed. Her mind had been changed as well. Addicock's panicked self-exploration had, at first, produced alarm and confusion. But those understandable feelings soon gave way to a deep and quickly accelerating need for sexual release. An unfamiliar warm, wetness began to build between her legs and her nipples grew stiff and incredibly sensitive. Almost as if by instinct, Addicock began to draw slow circles around her clit with one hand while she pulled and pinched her nipples with the other. It all felt so strange and, at the same time, so good. Addicock let out a low groan, as her fingers picked up speed and the slippery slickness between her legs increased. As unfamiliar as the sensations were, they were nothing compared to her thoughts. Addicock's fantasies had always been about power and control. Now she imagined herself on her knees before a viral young man, stroking his hard cock with one hand while she bent forward to take his manhood into her mouth. She suckled on a finger as she stroked her pussy, imagining the moment when her lover's cock would grow harder still and explode in her mouth, flooding it with cum. Then the scene shifted and she pictured a man between her legs and a hard cock pushing into her wet, virgin pussy. She spread her legs wide in invitation and submission, as first one and then two fingers plunged in and out of her slit. She could almost feel her lover's thrusts growing more urgent, spurred on by her groans and gasps as her own climax neared.

Addicock had almost reached her goal, when her erotic imaginings were interrupted by a quiet cough. Startled, she looked up and saw a young woman at the foot of her bed.. She felt her face flush and turn red with mortification. But despite her surprise and embarrassment, she did not pull the sheet up to cover herself. In fact, she did not even remove her hand from between her legs. It was as if her body had a mind of its own. To Addicock's shock and dismay, her unexpected audience only increased her arousal, and she soon felt compelled to resume her attentions to her pussy. As she began to stroke herself, lifting her hips to meet her searching fingers, she knew she was no longer in control. Her need for release and the excitement of being watched were more powerful than any rational thought. She wanted to perform for the maid, to have her watch as she came for the first time as a woman, imagining a man's cock in her warm, slippery cunt, urging him to cum inside of her.

Addicock's groans and sighs grew louder, as the room dissolved and she lost herself in her mastabatory fantasy. "Oh God!.. fuck me!, she cried, "That's it, yes, yes, ummm, oh God! Cum for me... cum in my pussy... I need you to fuck me, oh fuck... fuck me harder, harder, I need to cum so bad... oh, oh, that's it, that's it!" Her whole body spasmed as her orgasm crashed over her in waves of pleasure that were unlike anything she had ever known.

As her climax subsided, the reality of her situation came rushing back. She was suddenly aware of her nakedness, of the lewd spectacle she presented, her tits flushed with excitement, and her legs spread wide, thighs wet with her own juices. In her shame, she snatched at the sheets to cover herself, but the maid shook her head. "I'm here to get you dressed," she explained, handing Addicock a plain white shift. "You have an audience with the Queen."

Eager to cover herself, Addicock jumped out of bed and quickly pulled the shift over her head. However, any relief she felt at being clothed was momentary. Once on, it was clear that the shift would do nothing to hide her body. If anything, it made her feel more exposed. The shift was all but transparent, and it clung to her breasts, hips, and ass, leaving nothing to the imagination. What was worse, the feel of it on her skin sparked renewed arousal. The thin fabric seemed to caress her tits and she could feel her nipples harden in response. It was bad enough that anyone looking at her could see that she was naked underneath the shift. Now they could see her obscene excitement as well.

As the maid walked her down the hall to the throne room, Addicock's embarrassment and arousal grew. The shift sent shivers of pleasure through her body with every step. Before they were even halfway there, her pussy was soaked and she was sure the scent of her arousal was obvious to everyone. But that wasn't the only thing driving her hunger and her shame. She knew she would be displayed before the court and part of her was horrified. At the same time, she knew her body would give her no choice but to comply with its wishes. It would force her to give in to her overwhelming sexual need, spurred on by the certain knowledge that watching eyes would only heighten the intensity of her pleasure.

When they finally arrived, the Queen was on her throne and her courtiers were gathered around her. The maid led Addicock to the center of the room, asked her to wait there, and then approached the Queen and whispered something in her ear. The Queen responded with a knowing grin.

"It seems you've had an eventful morning," the Queen said with a merry laugh. "Why don't you tell us what you were doing when my maid came to fetch you?"

Addicock's eyes widened in shock. How could the Queen ask her to describe such shameful things? She was determined to keep her mouth tightly shut, but her new body and mind had other ideas. Against her will, she began to speak in blunt and vulgar terms about the morning's activities. Incredibly, her shameful confessions seemed only to increase her sexual heat.

"I was playing with my pussy and pulling at my nipples. I was imagining being fucked by a man for the first time and was very close to cuming."

"How unlike you!," exclaimed the Queen in mock surprise. "What did you do next? Did you apologize for your lewd behavior? Did you cover yourself? Did you hide your face in shame?"

"No. I did none of those things. I kept pleasuring my pussy, thrusting my fingers in and out of my wet slit, imagining my lover getting closer and closer to exploding inside me. I urged him to fuck me harder, to fill me with his cum. The maid's presence was incredibly exciting. I wanted her to see me lose control, to see me cum hard on my fingers with her watching."

"Astonishing!," said the Queen. "Your language is very vivid Mr. Addicock." The Queen paused. "No, that's not right. Not mister. And not Addicock either. Hmmm. Let's give you a new name. What shall it be? I know! You were Christopher in your previous life, so now you are Kitty! That's perfect. No last name. Just Kitty! Whenever you hear your name, you'll think of your pussy, and when you think of your pussy, you'll want to play. Even now, you're starting to feel your inner slut coming out. You're starting to feel the need to touch yourself in the most shameful ways. Isn't that right Kitty?"

Kitty, flushed with embarrassment, had no choice but to tell the truth. "Yes," she said in a quiet whisper. The whole situation was beyond her comprehension or control. The more she resisted, the more aroused she became. The hornier she got, the harder it was to see the point in resistance.

"Now as I was saying Kitty," the Queen continued, "when you described your morning, I could almost see you slipping your fingers into your cunt, grinding the heel of your palm into your clit as you moaned with pleasure. Very vivid, as I said. But I think I would like to see it with my own eyes so I can get the full picture. In any case, you look like you could use some relief. I'm sure you're soaked and everyone can see that your nipples are as hard as diamonds. Why don't you play with yourself for us Kitty? I know you'll enjoy it, and I'm sure we would all like to see what you look like when you cum."

The last remnants of Christoper Addicock started to object. "I can't do that! That's shameful, obscene...." But her words trailed off as her new persona took control. Even as she raised her voice to protest, she was already reaching down with one hand to pull up her shift, while the other went between her legs. When Kitty's fingers brushed against her clit, she knew the battle was lost. She surrendered to her passions, closed her eyes, and sighed with contentment as her fingers slid into her warm wet folds. She began to stroke herself, her tits raising and falling with the rhythm of her fingers moving in and out of her pussy.

"That's a good girl," said the Queen, "show us what a horny little slut you are, playing with your pussy in front of all these people! Poor dear, you just can't help yourself, can you? Kitty needs what Kitty needs. There's no way around it."

Kitty could do little more than groan with pleasure in reply. She was lost in a world of her own erotic imagination, a place where her needs and desires were all that mattered. The Queen's words, which should have been humiliating, only served to push her past the point of no return. As her climax took hold, her groans turned to sighs and then to shouts, "Oh fuck...oh fuck...yes...yessss...oh God!...I'm cumming...ahhh...ahhh...I'm cumming!!!"

When Kitty announced her orgasm, the court burst into a round of applause. "Bravo!," exclaimed the Queen. "You've shown us the effects of three cards at once! And there are three more to go! I can't wait to see you demonstrate those as well! But before we explore further, perhaps you would like a little more of an explanation?"

Exhausted from her exertions, and still reeling from the intensity of her orgasm, Kitty responded with a weary nod of her head.

"Very well," said the Queen. "Since you have been such a good girl and have given us such an exciting exhibition of what a horny slut you are, it's only fair that you know exactly what has happened." Once again, the Queen's words made Kitty blush, but her embarrassment was now mixed with pride. She knew that what she had done was beyond lewd, but a part of her was thrilled that her performance had pleased the Queen.

"To start," the Queen continued, "I was not entirely truthful yesterday when I said I did not know how the cards would affect you. It would have been more accurate to say that I did not know exactly what changes they would bring. I had a pretty good idea even before you drew a card of what you would become. After you went to bed, I discussed your karmic hand with my wisest mages. We were in consensus about the broad outlines of the transformation we expected, but there were some subtle differences in our interpretations. We all agreed that the iris pointed to a change of sex, and that the details of a dew drop and honey bee signaled an eagerness to lose yourself in sexual submission. Likewise, we were unanimous in our opinion that the French doors, with their peeping Tom, indicated a strong desire to watch or be watched, but we disagreed on which one. The maiden and the pussycat divided us as well. Some believed that the card suggested that you would feel a strong desire to pleasure yourself. Others thought you would revel in the sapphic delight of pleasing other women's pussies. Well, we've all seen how much you love an audience and how little it takes to get you to indulge your appetite for masturbation, so I suppose that settles it. Wouldn't you say so, Kitty?"