As if in direct response to Allaria’s shrill cry, the carriage came to a gentle stop. Queen Seraphina (or was it really Karyn in there? Jon could honestly go either way.) eyed him slyly through dark, immaculate lashes for a moment more before sliding from her seat with serpentine sensuousness, airily brushing the thick curtains aside. Jon gulped. Allaria gave another absurd little ‘squee’ instead, and Jon, with a glacial reluctance that was interpreted as carefully comported excitement, was compelled to follow his ‘mother’ from the carriage. He emerged from their aristocratic cocoon just in time to see Seraphina float with determined grace from the arms of a tall, high-helmed elven guard to the ground. The guard turned automatically to Jon, looking at him expectantly.
Well, not looking at him. That would have been too insolent, and too easy. Rather, he was looking directly at Jon’s...Allaria’s...nipples.
Jon blushed, felt the two little thumbs beneath Allaria’s transluscent parody of a bodice raise and stiffen. A feeling only slightly more heavy upon him than the eyes of this infuriating elf NPC...or the ice blue eyes of Queen Seraphina, watching the guard watching him. Was that another hint of a smile, or was Jon just being paranoid?
Oh, he and Karyn were going to have such words over this if she was doing this on purpose.
Finally, Jon slipped one booted foot forward; trusting in empty air, elven reflexes, and royal privilege. For a moment, he was sure he was going to topple flat on his face; the unreal inertia of Allaria’s shifting breasts dragging him inexorably to Earth and a humiliating -if well cushioned landing-. But instead of falling arms wheeling, he found that Allaria’s slenderly mismatched limbs reached in front of her, alighting delicately about the armored shoulders of the Elven guard before her. After another blushing (mutually, in fact) moment, the guard’s firm arms gripped Allaria’s dainty white waist and lowered her ever-so-gently on to her feet.
Even Allaria seemed to be taking a moment to recover her earlier giddyness after this over-sexed afternoon romp. She made no move to resist Jon’s instinctual retreat into himself, allowing his eyes to retreat from any other’s faze and fall firmly on to the refuge of Allaria’s sea-green knee-high boots.
It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to end up in this role? Why did he have to be treated this way? It wasn’t as if Karyn’s body was any less ridiculous than his… And this thought was the exact opposite of comforting, for he had now spent precious intimate moments with Karyn’s new body. With what, in fact, amounted to his body. Only taller, more sensual, and possessed of an icy confidence he’d have given anything to have. Looking at Karyn’s new form was, in fact, the surest picture he had seen of himself since this farce began. He was exactly the same, he knew. Only smaller. More dainty. Blushingly infuriatingly virginal. And dressed in far less. God, even their curves weren’t so far off from each other’s. Sure, Karyn was bigger in absolute terms. At least, he thought so. But she had many inches on him. Proportionally, if Allaria wasn’t more well endowed than Seraphina was now, she certainly would be by the time she achieved the same age.
Aging as Allaria. There was another thought he didn’t need.
But apparently, that had been enough time spent in introspection. He felt one foot move in front of the other again, heel to toe, in that implacable catwalk funeral march that went in perfect time with Karyn’s own. Click-clack-click-clack, a just barely offset staccato setting the pace as the two elven wetdream sex pots sauntered down the road into an elaborately carved facade of marble and draped silk of a thousand colors.
A sign in a script that he could not read yet understood perfectly proclaimed the place to be:
‘Eria’s Enchantments’
Shopping.
