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More from Andetheslayer
Picking up from the aftermath of the illustrious PrinceOliviaBatt's story: https://www.deviantart.com/princeol.....ame-1286503106
Ohh, but the infantile Duchess did, in fact, still possess enough of her former mental faculties to engineer a particularly sour revenge...
~~~
As Harlee strutted towards the exit of the card room with an impossible amount of confidence, two annoying would-be tagalongs made themselves very apparent.
"Oh, yeah. The kids." Harlee grumbled. "I better be getting alimony for this." He whined as he handled both of them with a shocking amount of strain. C.A.L.I. waved a friendly goodbye with her bizarre appendages as the three made their way to the hallway.
Unaffected by the outward changes, Harlee maintained his usual glossy demeanor to the umpteenth degree. As everyone was fully aware, almighty space captains always have to put up with crap like this. It's not like he wanted to be stuck in a maid outfit as his perfectly tailored shapely rump swayed with the- Nope. Not going there. "Haha, it's just a dream, right?" Harlee made good on shifting his internal gears immediately. "I mean, who seriously loses a bet on their own beloved ship, right? No, it was really that blasted bellhop's fault. Yeah, he clearly engineered this whole thing to get even on some cosmic scale here. He'll get his."
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the door to the elevator snapping open. About time. Didn't it realize just who it was about to accept into its grimy maw? Clearly not.
The deer clomped inside and jammed his thumb on the "L" button at the bottom, making a similarly-rooted hand gesture of his own. As Harlee attempted to ruminate, mansion attendants filed in as the lift made its stops, and soon it was a crowded mess. Harlee did not particularly like this development, and soon vocalized his chagrin to the nearest bystander. "Hey pal, gimmie some breathing room here!" The man looked down, way down, in utter shock. "What, are you as stupid as you are ugly? Move! Or do I gotta make yah?" Harlee added. The man first adopted a grim snarl, which soon gave way to a tight-lipped frown, which finally morphed into a booming laugh that preyed on every living soul inside the bronze chamber, except for one.
"A real riot, those lot. Good thing I let 'em off easy." Harlee mumbled as the last of the patrons exited into the glamorous lobby. "Say, kid." He turned toward Jayde. "What did they all find so funny anyway?"
"Uh, you!" the youngster replied gleefully, wiping tears from her face.
"Ah, okay. Good." the cervid responded. "I am pretty good with crowds after all." He concluded with unhampered delusion.
The confident strut of the femboy carried him all the way to the outer parts of the hallway, when suddenly a deafening peel of titanic proportions nearly brought Harlee to his knees. Frantically identifying the source, he isolated little Duchess in the madness and whirled her onto the registration desk without a second thought. "How do you shut these things up?" He roared over the din to a particularly dead-looking receptionist. "I dunno... sir!" She screamed back with some understandable hesitation. "That's why I ain't got any!"
"Well, fix it!" He demanded as he took off with Jayde in his arms like he was reenacting some kind of heroic escape sequence, just with a short, bouncy, makeup clad crossdresser with a newly-toddlerfied runt in tow. Hardly the standard visual.
Finally making his way outside of the building, Harlee rushed toward the nearest phone booth with rising panic in his mind. Jayde shot him a quizzical expression, only for Harlee to attempt to convey his own barely-understood notions of property ownership, lawyers, and contract law made under "false pretenses".
Meanwhile, a not-as-panicking Duchess ceased her wails almost as abruptly as they started. She promptly pointed out the check-in pens to the receptionist. "What, is that gonna calm you down, squirt?" She dryly asked. Duchess nodded, and soon was in possession of her desired writing implements.
It was no small feat whatsoever, but soon enough the small skunk had filled the paper with her devastating ultimatum and happily licked the envelope shut.
Harlee angerly kicked at the glass inside of the structure, only to be further enraged at just how little his show of force had impacted the life of the accosted booth. What did the lawyers mean by saying that "you shouldn't have signed that deal, stupid."? Clearly they were referring to someone on another line, probably a crowded center after all, but that still did not manage to fix any of his problems! After hearing an odd, completely random session of laughter after patiently explaining the entirely of his situation to the suits, he hung up the phone with all his might. Which, was not a terrible lot.
"Guess I better try to reason with the brat." He cursed as he backtracked to the illustrious mansion. What met him was about the closest thing to a confident pose that an infant can pull while still obeying the motor skills yielded to such an age. Duchess handed him a letter with a quick hand, looking up with a barely suppressed smile.
Harlee stole it out of her hands with a cranky disposition, already thinking of what it could be. Everything in his body froze when he read the contents:
"Deer Harlee,
U wil be maid of mansuhn for 1 munth or by-by ship. [sic]
Cincerlee, Dushess"
Harlee took a shaking step backwards as the letter fluttered in a sudden breeze. "N-No. You can't do that!" He claimed.
It was finally time for the receptionist to take her own slice of the cake. "Actually, sir." She corrected, emphasizing that last word. "With what limited communication she had, the pipsqueak managed to check it by me first. With what her winnings entail, she could easily strand you here forever."
"It's- The- NO! YOU DIRTY RATS CHEATED!" Harlee stammered into a deflection. The receptionist just shrugged. "If anything we did was below the board, then why are the repo man currently towing your doohickie away?"
The deer scrambled on all fours to the doorway to see what was surely a cruel joke, but no. As surely as silt, uniformed men were making good on Duchess' cash-out and were just beginning to haul the beautiful rocket off towards its demise when Harlee snapped entirely. "ALRIGHT, YOU WIN! YOU WIN!" He sobbed in the middle of the lobby, every eye following the latest meltdown. Mascara streamed down his face in rivers as he shook the hand of the devilish pint-sized mastermind in what would turn out to be the closest to Hell he would ever get to experience before actually going there himself.
~~~
As it turned out, the hotel had a much stricter rulebook than Harlee would ever have imagined. With an already feminine build, it wasn't long before the staff mandatory daily grooming habits zapped the remaining robustness from his limbs. Daily pushups were replaced by demanding cardio, weapons training had to be given up for guest etiquette lessons, even so much as showing anger towards a friendly slap on the rear would net him a smaller dress and a tighter set of panties. Already his circulation was at risk and so much of his shapely lower region was showing that even wearing nothing at all would have been preferable at this rate.
But eh, what's two more weeks?
Ohh, but the infantile Duchess did, in fact, still possess enough of her former mental faculties to engineer a particularly sour revenge...
~~~
As Harlee strutted towards the exit of the card room with an impossible amount of confidence, two annoying would-be tagalongs made themselves very apparent.
"Oh, yeah. The kids." Harlee grumbled. "I better be getting alimony for this." He whined as he handled both of them with a shocking amount of strain. C.A.L.I. waved a friendly goodbye with her bizarre appendages as the three made their way to the hallway.
Unaffected by the outward changes, Harlee maintained his usual glossy demeanor to the umpteenth degree. As everyone was fully aware, almighty space captains always have to put up with crap like this. It's not like he wanted to be stuck in a maid outfit as his perfectly tailored shapely rump swayed with the- Nope. Not going there. "Haha, it's just a dream, right?" Harlee made good on shifting his internal gears immediately. "I mean, who seriously loses a bet on their own beloved ship, right? No, it was really that blasted bellhop's fault. Yeah, he clearly engineered this whole thing to get even on some cosmic scale here. He'll get his."
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the door to the elevator snapping open. About time. Didn't it realize just who it was about to accept into its grimy maw? Clearly not.
The deer clomped inside and jammed his thumb on the "L" button at the bottom, making a similarly-rooted hand gesture of his own. As Harlee attempted to ruminate, mansion attendants filed in as the lift made its stops, and soon it was a crowded mess. Harlee did not particularly like this development, and soon vocalized his chagrin to the nearest bystander. "Hey pal, gimmie some breathing room here!" The man looked down, way down, in utter shock. "What, are you as stupid as you are ugly? Move! Or do I gotta make yah?" Harlee added. The man first adopted a grim snarl, which soon gave way to a tight-lipped frown, which finally morphed into a booming laugh that preyed on every living soul inside the bronze chamber, except for one.
"A real riot, those lot. Good thing I let 'em off easy." Harlee mumbled as the last of the patrons exited into the glamorous lobby. "Say, kid." He turned toward Jayde. "What did they all find so funny anyway?"
"Uh, you!" the youngster replied gleefully, wiping tears from her face.
"Ah, okay. Good." the cervid responded. "I am pretty good with crowds after all." He concluded with unhampered delusion.
The confident strut of the femboy carried him all the way to the outer parts of the hallway, when suddenly a deafening peel of titanic proportions nearly brought Harlee to his knees. Frantically identifying the source, he isolated little Duchess in the madness and whirled her onto the registration desk without a second thought. "How do you shut these things up?" He roared over the din to a particularly dead-looking receptionist. "I dunno... sir!" She screamed back with some understandable hesitation. "That's why I ain't got any!"
"Well, fix it!" He demanded as he took off with Jayde in his arms like he was reenacting some kind of heroic escape sequence, just with a short, bouncy, makeup clad crossdresser with a newly-toddlerfied runt in tow. Hardly the standard visual.
Finally making his way outside of the building, Harlee rushed toward the nearest phone booth with rising panic in his mind. Jayde shot him a quizzical expression, only for Harlee to attempt to convey his own barely-understood notions of property ownership, lawyers, and contract law made under "false pretenses".
Meanwhile, a not-as-panicking Duchess ceased her wails almost as abruptly as they started. She promptly pointed out the check-in pens to the receptionist. "What, is that gonna calm you down, squirt?" She dryly asked. Duchess nodded, and soon was in possession of her desired writing implements.
It was no small feat whatsoever, but soon enough the small skunk had filled the paper with her devastating ultimatum and happily licked the envelope shut.
Harlee angerly kicked at the glass inside of the structure, only to be further enraged at just how little his show of force had impacted the life of the accosted booth. What did the lawyers mean by saying that "you shouldn't have signed that deal, stupid."? Clearly they were referring to someone on another line, probably a crowded center after all, but that still did not manage to fix any of his problems! After hearing an odd, completely random session of laughter after patiently explaining the entirely of his situation to the suits, he hung up the phone with all his might. Which, was not a terrible lot.
"Guess I better try to reason with the brat." He cursed as he backtracked to the illustrious mansion. What met him was about the closest thing to a confident pose that an infant can pull while still obeying the motor skills yielded to such an age. Duchess handed him a letter with a quick hand, looking up with a barely suppressed smile.
Harlee stole it out of her hands with a cranky disposition, already thinking of what it could be. Everything in his body froze when he read the contents:
"Deer Harlee,
U wil be maid of mansuhn for 1 munth or by-by ship. [sic]
Cincerlee, Dushess"
Harlee took a shaking step backwards as the letter fluttered in a sudden breeze. "N-No. You can't do that!" He claimed.
It was finally time for the receptionist to take her own slice of the cake. "Actually, sir." She corrected, emphasizing that last word. "With what limited communication she had, the pipsqueak managed to check it by me first. With what her winnings entail, she could easily strand you here forever."
"It's- The- NO! YOU DIRTY RATS CHEATED!" Harlee stammered into a deflection. The receptionist just shrugged. "If anything we did was below the board, then why are the repo man currently towing your doohickie away?"
The deer scrambled on all fours to the doorway to see what was surely a cruel joke, but no. As surely as silt, uniformed men were making good on Duchess' cash-out and were just beginning to haul the beautiful rocket off towards its demise when Harlee snapped entirely. "ALRIGHT, YOU WIN! YOU WIN!" He sobbed in the middle of the lobby, every eye following the latest meltdown. Mascara streamed down his face in rivers as he shook the hand of the devilish pint-sized mastermind in what would turn out to be the closest to Hell he would ever get to experience before actually going there himself.
~~~
As it turned out, the hotel had a much stricter rulebook than Harlee would ever have imagined. With an already feminine build, it wasn't long before the staff mandatory daily grooming habits zapped the remaining robustness from his limbs. Daily pushups were replaced by demanding cardio, weapons training had to be given up for guest etiquette lessons, even so much as showing anger towards a friendly slap on the rear would net him a smaller dress and a tighter set of panties. Already his circulation was at risk and so much of his shapely lower region was showing that even wearing nothing at all would have been preferable at this rate.
But eh, what's two more weeks?
Category Artwork (Digital) / Transformation
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 1613 x 2285px
File Size 3.02 MB
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