Under the advisement of my father, the king, and Nerlim the court wizard, I have taken upon a quest to better understand the denizens of the local swamp. As the eldest son, I am first in line to overtake the throne and as such, should be prepared to make peace with the vicious creatures that inhabit our kingdom. To do this, Nerlim will be transforming me into a swamp troll and sending me to live with them for a few months.
To be honest, I doubt that there is much to learn from these creatures that spend their time frolicking in the mud. All of the stories that travelers have told me have described the trolls as vicious brutes that lack in both intelligence and common courtesy. What worries me more, is Nerlim tells me that along with the physical changes, my mind may be altered to better match my new form. Nerlim has tried to ease my fears by saying that he will cure me of any corruption I may accrue during my stay, but that’s not exactly easing my mind.
At any rate, my thoughts and actions shall be recorded in this journal for record keeping and to inform others of my exploits. Nerlim has even setup a spell to automatically, record notable actions using a copy of my mind should I be unable to write it down, or even lose my grasp on human language entirely. This will be a test to my future promise as ruler, that I am sure will make me stronger as a person. I have utmost faith in my ability and know I can get through this untainted by those loathsome creatures. Besides, Nerlim has been my father’s trusted advisor for years, so I am sure he is more than capable than getting me through this in a safe manner.
Nerlim is an imbecile.
Shortly, after arriving at the fumbling wizard’s study, I was asked to take a seat and prepare myself for the journey. Nerlim started to chant in a strange language, while sprinkling me with sparkling dust. My skin bristled with activity, my body feeling like mush as my mind felt like it was leaking out of my skull. As instructed, I closed my eyes, my mind observing as I felt my spirit freely jump out of my body, hearing the wizard’s faint cackling as my spirit traveled a great distance away from the castle.
When I opened my eyes again, I was met by the horrific splendor of the Moordown Bog. Trees as black as night, rose from the murky water, pale moss decorating their bare limbs. The smell of something rotten hung in the air, I could feel myself gagging as if I had swallowed mouthful of the vile water. Various, creeping creatures filled the bog with croaks and shrieks, the sounds strange and frightening to my ears. Setting out to explore, my feet plunged into the muddy depths, a chill creeping up my legs with every step, feeling something slither in-between my toes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something unusual moving alongside of me in the water. Turning abruptly, I raised my hand to attack the fearsome visage that greeted me. My fist plunged into the murky depths, only to come back with a handful of mud. Waiting for the ripples to subside, I finally, realized that the monstrous visage in the water, was me.
Tough, grey skin was stretched across my face, from the tips of my pointed ears to the soft line of my chin. My princely hair, had darkened into a deep black, the tips reaching past my cold, dark eyes and hooked nose. Opening my mouth, I was met by a row of crooked teeth, a horrendous aura of bad breath leaking out and drifting into my enlarged nostrils. The stench made me stumble around the mud in disgust, raising my hands to my face, I felt my elongated, black nails glide across my skin. Holding out my arms in front of me I took a glance at my long, gangly limbs, looking like they belonged to some kind of demonic creature. Taking another step forward, I felt something bounce against my stomach. Looking down, I was met by the unsavory sight of two, drooping, bare breasts; my nipples having darkened to resemble pieces of coal. Peering past my newly, acquired mammaries, I suddenly, realized the stilt like legs that hoisted me nine feet into the air, my head at level with some of the higher tree branches. Pushing aside my breasts, I saw a thick trail of black hair covering my concave midsection, leading all the way down to a bush covering my genitals. Already knowing the answer, my hand brushed through the thick hair and felt the distinct grooves and softness of a vagina.
Clenching my fists, I let out a shout of anger, at the time not caring about the added deepness and ferocity to my voice not at all matching my feminine form. I stomped around one of the trees, my paddle-like feet splashing up water and slathering my legs with brown muck. Slamming my fist against the bark of the tree, I cursed Nerlim’s name, my gravely, tone seeming fit for the occasion. We had agreed to keep me in a mostly, similar body and yet here I am, a gigantic troll with breasts that could club a man to death. I’ll have to remember to lock up that idiotic spell caster when I get back.
Despite my less than ideal situation, I once again set out deeper into the bog, intending to salvage some part of this excursion. I kept my head held high, enjoying my new tall stature and trying not to catch glimpses of my reflection in the water. It felt so strange moving in this form and yet everything seemed to move with a fluidity, like I had always been in this body. From between a set of trees I saw something grey and fast skitter about as it saw me approach. Curious, I pushed through the thicket of branches and climbed into the clearing.
My foot found solid ground as I stepped through, something I had missed over my hours of pointless wandering through the swamp. Crude huts, built from fallen branches blended in amongst the foliage, using only dried mud to keep them from crumbling apart. In the center stood a circle of rocks and a dim fire, slowly roasting a hunk of unknown meat. I licked my lips, only then realizing how long it must have been since I had eaten anything. My mouth watered as I approached the meat, my body not knowing or caring where it came from.
The sound of rustling leaves, snapped me out of my hunger induced trance. From out of the shadows, crept unruly creatures, bearing the same grey skin and gangly limbs as I. They outnumbered me greatly, my one advantage being that I seemed to outsize of them, even the males with their protruding “things”. I took a defensive stance, knowing that if they attacked I would have little chance, but I would rather go out fighting like the prince that I am. To my unexpected, but much appreciated, surprise the trolls looked at me like I was an old friend. After some gargled words that I could barely, understand at the time, they gathered around the fire and invited me to join them. Accepting their offer, I found a seat near one of the less daunting females, and waited for my turn at the meal.
One by one, the trolls went up to the fire and tore off a chunk of meat with their hands, returning to their seats to ravenously, devour their meal. Thick fat dripped from their mouths, as they picked bits of meat from between their teeth. Their loud chewing was punctuated by unsavory noises coming from their bodies, adding an aroma of noxious gases on top of their terrible body odor. It is quite, clear that these creatures lack any form of modesty, my first clue being the fact that none of them wear any clothing nor do they mind who sees them scratch their private areas while they eat.
I could feel their stone cold eyes watching me during the meal, my modest behavior standing out amongst their savage eating habits. To avoid suspicion, I abandoned my usual manners and helped myself to a mouthful of mystery meat. While I didn’t know what it was, my ravenous belly urged me on, my teeth ripping apart the morsel, disregarding the drips of fat that cascaded down my breasts, mixing in with my tufts of body hair. Wiping my mouth clean of grease, I let out a hearty belch, which did its part in integrating me into their group.
With their bellies full and the sunlight fading fast, the trolls shuffled their way towards the huts. Groups of up to ten huddled inside the ramshackle housing, amassing in piles of grey flesh that squeezed into a space not even suitable for a single person to live in. Feeling the onset of the cold, night air and with no other options, I joined a trio of females under one of the roomier shelters. I go to sleep tonight with a long grey arm, wrapped around my shoulder and my head brushing up against one of the troll’s bushes of armpit hair. Sleep amongst the various smells and sounds that these creatures produce seems very unlikely, but I need the energy for the trials that are sure to await me. At the very least, the thought of that wizard rotting in a dungeon should keep me pressing on to finish this adventure.
It has been a week since I have started living with the trolls. During that time, I have observed their behavior and have participated in their daily life, learning the details of their “culture”. Not a moment goes by without one of them doing something that utterly disgusts me. They seem to have no form of self-control when it comes to bodily functions, burping and breaking wind seemingly, being part of their vocabulary. As to be expected for living in a swamp, I have never seen them bathe or even attempt to groom themselves, the only thing close being drenching themselves in whatever fluids drip from their mouths during meal time. Worst of all, on multiple occasions, I have seen them out in the open pleasuring themselves, either solo or in large groups, filling the swamp with cries of sinful moans.
Up until now, the other trolls have been kind enough to bring me food and leave me to my own devices. I’ve never had to leave the village or do any physical labor, so all of the extra sustenance has started to build up around my mid-section, my disgust for my own body growing along with my waistline. However, that all ended today when I finally, found out why the they had been so courteous to me.
A troll approached me and grunted out that I was to take part in a hunt, his dimwitted mind figuring that since I was so large it would be easy for me to take down an animal or two. As the royal prince, I had droves of hunters willing to obtain any meat I desired, so I had never gone out hunting myself. Regardless, I did owe the trolls for their hospitality and so I agreed, joining up with three other trolls to venture into the swamp.
The hunting party seemed more like a mad mob, my companions dashing in and out of trees and puddles to snatch squirrels, birds, frogs, insects, and a few creatures I couldn’t recognize. Everything they caught either ended up in a crude basket for the village or went directly into their mouths, bones and all. While their speed was impressive, the basket wasn’t being filled nearly, fast enough for my liking.
I decided to wander off by myself, distancing myself from the loud splashing and shouting of the other trolls, in hopes of finding larger game. My wayward path led me to an alligator, lazily, drifting in the stagnant water, trying its best to mimic a log. The creature looked big enough to swallow a horse whole, yet I saw it more as a meal than a threat.
With a growling stomach urging me on, I leapt out of the bushes and pounced on the alligator, my teeth sinking into the tough hide. We rolled back and forth, neither one of us willing to give up the fight, earning us both a series of scratches and wounds as we struggled through the muck. With a primal yell I didn’t know I was capable of, my hands found their way to the alligator’s jaw and snapped it wide open, the creature finally dead from exhaustion. When the other trolls found me, I was already enjoying the results of my labor, tearing off bits of the alligator with my teeth, like a rabid animal. In the back of my mind, I knew that I was acting like a complete savage, but I didn’t matter as long as I ate my fill.
Finally, noticing the other trolls, I backed off of the kill and allowed them to tie the carcass to a tree branch to carry back to the village. My return was heralded with short words of gratitude as the alligator carcass was heaved onto a bonfire to cook. All night long, the group devoured the efforts of the hunting trip, constantly, serving me extra portions for a job well done.
I ended up eating more than I probably, should have, my stomach bloated and my body ready to collapse from lethargy. As I returned to the sleeping pile, I was pleasantly, surprised to find my sleeping mates’ smell no longer overpowered my senses. Resting my head against one of their backs, I scratched the hair on my belly, passing a bit of gas as I pressed down on my gut. Needless to say, this was quite unbecoming of a prince, but I think I’m slowly starting to accept the habits and mannerisms of a troll. I am quite curious as to how far I am willing to distance myself from my royal blood in pursuit of further discovery.
I think I’ve finally, reached a point of no return.
Shortly, after my last entry I noticed a drastic change occurring in my body. The public displays of pleasure were no longer disgusting me. Instead, I found myself drawn to them, eyes affixed to their faces of pleasure and my womanhood, aching to join them. Every male troll that I used to look upon with contempt started to look attractive, my mind focusing more on their large endowments rather than their lack of manners. It didn’t take long for me to realize that my body was going into heat.
I tried to stave off my urges for as long as possible, doing all that I could to keep myself the morally pure prince that I was. Hunting trips became a daily routine for me, most of the time choosing to go by myself to avoid being tempted by my fellow trolls. When I wasn’t out hunting, I was eating whatever bounty I had brought back, each day filling my stomach with enough food to send me off to sleep with a bloated gut and a case of indigestion that lasted hours afterwards. The plan sort of worked, at the cost of adding on more weight to my form, my hunting efforts hindered by my doughy belly jiggling between my thighs. As a last ditch effort, I tried to stave off my urges by constantly, masturbating, but that only served to increase my need to give into my basic instincts.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I approached one of the male trolls, hoping that my low hanging breasts and wide hips would be enough to attract him. After a few rude grunts, I had him on his back as I inserted his penis inside of me. With every thrust, I seemed to lose more of my old self, my cries of ecstasy punctuated by gas forcing itself out my body as I rode his cock. The other trolls gathered around us, pleasuring themselves to our indecent display, the males talking amongst themselves who would get the next turn with me. Absorbed in my own satisfaction, I didn’t care about the unwanted eyes, nor did I notice when my partner spilled his seed inside of me until it was too late.
I lay here now, just a mere three days later with my belly heavy with child. I knew that the trolls bred fast, but I never imagined it would be like this. My current self seems unconcerned about my predicament, my brain having gone into a rut. Even close to going into childbirth, I still seek out male trolls for more degrading sex. I only pray that I can find some way to return to my former regal self.
Six months as a troll and I have thrown away all that once made me human. My current body is burdened with the side effects of having gone through multiple births, each offspring taking no more than a week to fully develop. All of the rigidness of this form has disappeared under multiple layers of fat; I think I’ve more than doubled my original weight, my belly retaining its large size even when I’m not with child. My breasts have become like cow udders, the heavy, grey orbs of flesh constantly, leaking a steady stream of thick milk from my plump, black nipples.
While my current form would be looked upon as a monstrosity, the other trolls have been treating me like a divine ruler. I spend my time in a hut all to myself, with a gathering of little mouths constantly, sucking on my teats. In-between feedings, the males take their turns impregnating me, making sure that my belly remains taut day in and day out. They bring with them offerings of food, negating my need to hunt or leave the indentation my wide rear has left in the mud floor.
Despite my dire situation, I couldn’t be happier. My days are filled with eternal bliss, taking joy in my simple life of eating, feeding, and fucking. Conversations between the other trolls consist of only a few simple words, interspersed by the odd moan or belch, my knowledge of human language having dwindled into almost nothing. Decency disappeared somewhere between the 7th and 15th child, not caring if anyone is around to see me scratch myself, expel gas, or bear witness to my latest birthing.
I cannot say how much longer this journal will persist, the connection between it and my mind growing weaker and weaker every day. The agreed upon date of my reversal has long gone, the passage of which coincided with the birth of a pair of twins. Alas, it appears I may be stuck as a breeding troll for the rest of my days, a victim of Nerlim’s dark magic. Regardless, I think I will be okay. After all, I’m surrounded by my loving children and harem, without want for food or pleasure. I have accepted my new lot in life, as queen of the trolls.