Gromet's PlazaTransformation Stories

The Competition

by Lobo De la Sombra

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© Copyright 2010 - Lobo De la Sombra - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF+; M/f; bond; capture; contest; wine; amazons; transform; M2f; cons/nc; X

In the land of the Amazons, there is a tradition. When the commander of the Amazon army steps down, a great competition is held to choose her replacement. Warriors from across the land gather to compete for the honor of being chosen the greatest Amazon warrior. All are welcome to compete, which can sometimes lead to misunderstandings.

Mara, high priestess, gazed at the latest applicant and sighed. How this warrior had made it all the way to the sacred arena was unclear, but, by the rules, any who came here could compete, but this was highly unusual.

“You are aware of the rules of the competition?” she asked.

The warrior grinned. He was a big man, dressed in leather, with a broadsword and knife strapped to his hip. His bronzed skin, bulging muscles and jet-black hair would have made him attractive… a society that appreciated such things in men.

“Seems easy enough,” he rumbled in his deep voice. “All I have to do is beat all the others and I’m the winner.”

“Should you defeat all other warriors,” Mara replied, “you may indeed become the champion. However, remember, this is not a fight to the death. We kill only as a last resort. You will be awarded points for each warrior you remove from the competition. You will also lose points for any death you may cause. The warrior with the most points will be declared champion, and that need not always be the last one standing.”

The man shrugged. “Either way, I intend to win.”

Mara sighed again. “Very well. So long as you understand. How are you called?”

The man smiled again. “I am Karan.”

The competition ran for seven days. During the first five, individual combats were graded to reduce the number of warriors to twenty. On the sixth day, the remaining warriors rested as workers prepared for the final competition.

As the twenty entered the arena, Karan stared. The arena floor had been removed, revealing a maze of twisting corridors that lay beneath. At twenty spots around the maze, rope ladders led down into the corridors.

“The Labyrinth,” Mara intoned. “Here, you will meet in final combat to determine who shall be our Champion, our new Commander. The winner of this final competition will be presented to our Queen, to serve her as she commands. Warriors, to your places.”

The twenty warriors, nineteen woman and Karan, marched around the edge of the maze, one stopping at each ladder, until all were in place. At a signal, they climbed down, and the ladders were drawn up. Above, other warriors, those already eliminated from the competition, moved out onto the tops of the walls, Karan glanced up to find several he had defeated earlier glaring down at him.

“Let the competition begin.”

Karan moved quickly. The others, he knew, resented his presence in this competition, and he had no doubt they’d move to eliminate him as quickly as possible. He rounded a corner, and confronted his first opponent.

The warrior woman was tall and strongly built, with large breasts and long, toned legs. Karan had tried to coax her into his bedroll the night before, an effort that had earned him a glass of wine in his face. Now she faced him, wearing only the belt that held the sheath for the knife in her hand. By the rules, only hand weapons were allowed, and all combatants fought naked.

Karan left his knife in its sheath, nor did he reach for the pouch on his left hip. Instead, he lashed out with his hand, knocking aside the knife that swept toward him. As the blade sliced harmlessly past him, his leg lashed out, sweeping the woman’s feet from under her. The woman landed hard, the wind knocked out of her.

Karan gave her no time to recover, dropping atop her and rolling her onto her stomach. Grinning, he reached into the pouch and withdrew a rawhide thong. As the woman began recovering from her fall, he quickly drew her hands behind her, binding them together with the thong. A second thong secured her ankles. Unable to resist, he fondled her breasts before he rose, leaving her helpless on the floor at his feet.

Watching the woman struggle, Karan was startled to see a rope ladder drop from the top of the wall. As he watched, one of the eliminated warriors climbed down, wrapped a rope beneath the bound woman’s arms, then climbed back up the ladder. Once back atop the wall, and joined by others, she took hold of the rope, drawing the still bound woman up and out of the maze. Karan nodded. A most efficient way to keep the maze from becoming littered with bodies, as well as keeping track of each warrior’s victories. Smiling, he moved on.

His second opponent was a stocky blonde. Giving her no time to recover from the shock of the sudden encounter, Karan quickly knocked her to the floor and bound her. This time, he drew her bound feet to her hands, using a third thong to connect the bonds on hands and feet. The woman lay with her heels pressed against her ass. Watching her being drawn out of the maze, Karan grinned, wondering if they stayed bound once out.

For his third victory, Karan knocked out a dusky woman from the south. For variety, he tied her left wrist to her left ankle, right wrist to right ankle. As this third victim was removed, he found himself wondering how many different ways he could tie a woman.

As the day progressed, Karan continued removing competitors. One was left with her arms bound tightly at the elbows, ankles bound together. Another had her arms laid forearm to forearm and bound, then her knees bound to her arms. A third endured a similar arm tie, but behind her, with ankles bound together.

Finally, as the day neared it’s end, the competition neared its end as well. Of the twenty who had entered the maze, only Karan and one woman remained. Each had removed nine of their opponents, so this final confrontation would determine the winner. Through the twists and turns of the maze, they stalked each other, seeking an advantage. Finally, as darkness fell, Karan got his chance.

Stepping around a corner, he found the woman standing with her back to him. Moving quickly, he through one arm around her neck and began choking her. The woman struggled fiercely for a moment, then began to sag Karan lowered her to the floor and drew his last two thongs from the pouch. Bending, he tied her big toes together with one end of a thong. Bending her knees and bringing up her feet, he placed her hands palm to palm, then used the other end of the thong to bind her middle fingers together. As he stepped back to enjoy his handiwork, the woman turned her head and glared at him.

“You may have won the competition,” she said, “but you are about to lose everything you are.”

Frowning, Karan, bend and stuffed the empty pouch into her mouth, binding it in place with the final thong. As the woman was drawn, still struggling, out of the maze, Karan stood triumphant.

The Queen of the Amazons gazed without approval at her new Champion. Still naked, with not even his belt, Karan grinned back at her. Her eyes swept disinterestedly over his manhood, then settled on his face.

“You have won the competition,” she said softly. “Are you prepared to assume the office and duties to which your victory entitles you?”

“I am,” he replied.

“Very well. Bring the wine.”

A male slave, naked except for a leather collar, approached with a jeweled goblet, which he offered to Karan. Without taking his eyes off the Queen, Karan drained the goblet and handed it back. The Amazons, he knew, were fierce fighters, but disorganized. How much better would they be, he wondered, with a man in charge?

Suddenly, he felt very light headed. Must be some strong wine, he thought, holding out his hands for balance. Feeling a tightness in his feet, he glanced down, only to stare in shock.

His feet!. His large, warrior’s feet were slowly shrinking, becoming more slender and elongated. His ankles, too, were becoming slimmer. As he watched, stunned, the hair vanished from his legs, even as they became slim, molded columns of flesh. His thighs didn’t seem to change as much, becoming hairless and smooth, their tone now matching his new legs.

Karan gasped as he watched his manhood begin to shrink. Reaching down, he tried to save it, but it was already gone, his hands landing instead on a soft vertical slit that quickly became covered with soft, downy hair.

Now thoroughly stunned, he watched as his waist began to pinch in, becoming narrower. His view of his lower body was suddenly blocked as his chest expanded into two large, fleshy mounds He barely noticed as his arms and hands changed to match his new body.

Finally, the light feeling left his head. Still stunned, he turned his gaze up to the Queen.

“What…….?” His voice! Gone was the deep booming voice he had always known, replaced by a less deep, somehow dusky tone. “What have you done to me?”

By way of reply, the queen nodded. Slaves quickly set a long mirror in front of Karan. There, reflected in the glass, stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Long, toned legs led up to firm, flaring thighs, their juncture hidden by a soft mound of black hair. The hips were wide, the waist narrow, sweeping up to a chest adorned by large, firm breasts with prominent nipples. Slim shoulders held up slender arms. The whole body was muscular, strong, yet almost perfectly feminine.

The face was one of almost inhuman beauty, with full, lush lips and eyes of bottomless blue, all framed by waves of jet black hair that cascaded down his back. Just looking at the image in the mirror, Karan felt his new nipples harden, watching as they rose to stand proudly from the tips of his new breasts.

As the slaves removed the mirror, Karan stared at the Queen. “Why have you done this to me?” he asked.

The Queen smiled. “No man has ever commanded here,” she replied, “and no man ever will. You won the Competition, so by law, you are our Champion and the commander of my army.” The Queen smiled. “And now, you are fit for the job”

Smiling, the Queen rose from her throne and descended the stairs to stand beside the stunned Karan. Lightly, she ran her hand between his legs, and Karan felt his knees grow weak at the sudden rush of pleasure.

“Of course,” the Queen continued softly, “should you fail in your duties, a new Champion will be chosen, and you will be given other duties. Perhaps as a love slave, hmmm?”

Karan stared. He had planned so many things for when he won, and now all his plans were useless. He would, he knew, do exactly as the queen commanded him. Otherwise , he knew, he would wind up a slave, serving the queen until she tired of him, then sold. Karan’s eyes closed as he sighed in defeat.

“I see you understand your situation,” the Queen said softly. “Very good. Once you have been trained, perhaps you will make an acceptable commander after all. But we can’t call you Karan, can we? Too much a man’s name. From this day on, you are Kara, Champion of the Amazons and Commander of the Queen’s Army.”

With another sigh, the naked woman nodded. Karan was gone, and Kara stood poised at the beginning of a new life.

* * *

There was laughter as the Queen was shoved into the rebels’ midst. Naked, her hands bound behind her, Wildly, her gaze darted toward the women around her, coming at last to rest on the leader.

“How could you do this to me?” she demanded. “I am Queen! I gave you everything you ever had. I made you what you are.”

The leader smiled. “Yes, you did.” she said in her dusky voice. “And you taught me quite well. Now it’s time for a change. Your realm is near ruin, your army on the verge of open revolt, and you’ve become more interested in pleasure than in ruling. You no longer deserve to sit the throne.”

“And you do?”

The leader of the rebels smiled. “I’ve been watching you carefully these past ten years. By your own actions, you have taught me what a good ruler does and does not do. I will rule, and I will do a much better job than you. But don’t worry, I won’t make you move out of the royal bedroom. I’ll let you stay there, as my personal love slave. Won’t you like that?”

As the former Queen was pulled struggling from the room, the rebel leader glanced around at her cheering followers.

“Queen Kara,” she whispered. “I like the sound of that.”


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