Becoming a Princess

A Tsar is Born!

Growing up in the Ukranian village in Chicago I of course knew the mysteries of the Romanovs.  The Russian dynasty that was primarily murdered in the February Revolution of 1917 by the Bolsheviks.  If it were just a matter of history I don’t think anybody would really care, but this included the mystery of a future return to prominence.  Everything from the existing family members from great exile to whispers of direct descendants.  It was even hinted that President Putin was building up Russia for their eventual return.  So when I I heard the offer, I couldn’t help but accept. 

The offer was simple… help the royal family by becoming the most personal guard of Natalya Romanov, the true hidden direct decedent of Anastasia and future rule of the new Russian Empire.  It was made simply while I was in line at the deli by a house disguised as a man.  When I nodded my acceptance he guided me to the limousine and we drove off.  We ended up at some estate in Evanston where I was guided in to immediately meet Natalya.  She took me by surprise.  Her beauty was beyond description with her natural strawberry blonde hair, her pale smooth skin, and her dark calculating eyes.  She walked around me and as I followed her with my eyes I saw in a mirror that we had a similar facial structure.  I grew excited thinking that maybe this was going to go beyond a simple guard duty… maybe I was going to be prepped as her brother! 

Even with only a single syllable I could hear the musical quality of her voice.  “Da.”  That’s when I felt the needle.  That’s when the lights went out.  That’s when my life, for all intents and purposes, ended. 

I learned more in the next two years than I had in the past 10.  I was an apt pupil if for no other reason than I couldn’t leave.  After two years of intensive instruction I could speak Russian fluently.  I knew the history of Europe and Asia from Slavic and Finno Ugric peoples to the current political divisions, specializing of course in the Russian annals.  I knew proper decorum and etiquette of the Royals from how to treat those serving me to what dresses to wear for any occasion.  Yeah… dresses.  You see I wasn’t being educated on being Natalya’s guard or how to impersonate her brother.  I was being educated on being her body double.  And the reason I couldn’t leave?  Recovery. 

My face may have been similar to the Russian heir’s and our heights were close enough, but that’s where our body similarities ended.  Surgery after surgery was performed to change that.  The obvious sexual surgeries were performed to help me learn my place.  They constantly told me Аво́сь да как-нибу́дь до добра́ не доведу́т, which I later learned meant ‘Draw not your bow till your arrow is fixed.’  Of course I was that arrow and making me a woman with a real working pussy and large sensitive breasts more than ‘fixed’ me.  They removed my Adam’s apple and altered my voice to a soft voluptuous alto.  They lasered away the vast majority of my body hair while letting the hair on my head grow long and voluptuously thick. 

While I was being educated to know what Natalya knew and physically changed to look like her, I was also being trained to approximate her behaviors.  Walking like a Russian princess was not easy, especially in the smart tall heels she liked to wear.  Moving in that cocky confident manner she had would be difficult for a shy guy like myself but was almost impossible while I tried to accept my new gender.  Even down to my instincts which they changed with the most archaic and beastly psychological training… a shock collar.  Choosing McDonalds over a layered herring salad earned me a shock.  Picking whisky over vodka sent me screaming to the floor.  Trying to listen to classic rock over K-pop gained me a mini electrocution.  Wanting to read Stephen King over Dostoyevsky nearly sent me into a seizure.

When they started to put me into more social settings I was at first relieved.  It seems that Natalya, like me, liked women.  I learned to flirt and tease.  I learned to use my tongue to bring women to orgasm after screaming orgasm, while screaming out my own ecstasy brought on by a woman’s touch.  Sure, I liked girls with smaller breasts and an athletic build wile Natalya liked curvy bustier women, but those nights spent sweating and grunting between silk sheets were almost heaven none the less.    But while my feminine sexual joy was extreme, it was also short lived.  Natalya wasn’t a lesbian… she was just sexually un-repressed.  As much as she liked women moaning from her touch, she liked to man from being touched by a strong masculine hand.  And while she liked to take a strong commanding hand to her girls, she liked a man to dominate her in bed. 

This part of my re-creating was probably the most difficult.  Over and over I was shocked into unconsciousness.  And each time I learned to accept a new experience from a man, I was forced to learn another.  Simply having a man sit next to me and put his strong arm around my shoulders was difficult.  After a few nights learning not to flinch away from that touch I had to learn to lie with my head in his lap.  When that didn’t send me into fits I got to experience what it was like to have my hair pulled and be kissed at the same time.  Once that manhandling didn’t make me cry the hair pulling continued but I was guided to lick and kiss over his naked body.  When I could let him guide me from his nipples to his bellybutton I had to let him guide me to his thick cock.  Once I became quite the little cock licker I learned that Natalya is quite the screamer while being fucked.  Both in her pussy and her ass. 

Time ceased having any meaning.   One day dragged into another.  Days of the week didn’t mean a thing.  Months and even seasons stopped mattering when I never got to see outside.  Those educating, training, and molding me were constantly being switched up so I couldn’t even attempt to start a personal relationship with them.  When I finally saw Natalya again I thought I was looking into a mirror.  She was framed by the doorway and wearing the exact same clothes as me.  Her cocky smile didn’t give her away as it was a natural part of my own facial expressions.  Only when she spoke did I realize I wasn’t looking at myself. 

Through all this training, this learning to be Natalya at the detriment of my own sense of self, I had always assumed she was watching and approving over my education.  That this was her idea.  But that afternoon together taught me that we were both being trained.  That the past years for her had been much the same as it was for me.  While we sat in the palatial library she explained that she’d grown up as any other Chicagoan.  She’d gone to Cub’s games and cheered for the Bulls.  She’d dreamed of shopping on the Magical mile while attending public school.  She told me she’d only learned of her special genetics and birthright four years before meeting me and that the same powers changing me into her body double were changing her into what they deemed to be the perfect Russian Princess.  It seems that the only thing they couldn’t change in Natalya was her attraction to women.   That they’d never intended this future ruler of an empire to be a bisexual. 

As she went over her behavior training, I recognized the techniques immediately.  It seems I actually succumbed to being fucked by a man faster than her.  While I only occasionally had a ‘date night’ to reinforce my previous lessons, Natalya was being treated to male dominated sexual escapades each night.  And strangely that’s why we were meeting.  Where I feared I was going to be judged by my future queen, she was actually here to learn from me.  She was here because I was her new taskmaster and her new prize.  If she did well we could spend time together, but until she could perform to their satisfaction we’d now have double date nights.  Every night. 

Maybe I was reading to much into this.  All the intrigue and undermining of my personal identity had made me always look for alternative deeper reasons for anything.  But as Natalya pulled me close and sought some sapphic pleasure with a delicate kiss I couldn’t help but wonder if they were training us to love each other.  To build up a desire in me to protect this precious resource.  To build up a desire in her to trust her body double. 

source:  fuskator