From knight to goblin maid (Patreon)

Hey everyone! I haven’t forgotten about the poll I did for this transformation =) I just didn’t have the time to work on it, but I’ve finally decided to start. While it’s still in progress and I haven’t begun creating the images for the story yet, I thought I’d share the beginning of the story and the transformation itself. Also, I’d like to ask you - what style do you think the images should be in: anime-style or more realistic? The poll is in the post below.

...

Roland de Laurens always knew he was power and authority. His muscular frame and noble name commanded respect and fear from all the courtiers. Though, in reality, his "heroic" feats rarely extended beyond capturing bandits on the royal highway, his confidence seemed boundless.

Today, at yet another royal reception, he decided once again to remind everyone of his presence. Step by step, he proudly strode past the courtiers, nodding to those who bowed, ignoring anyone who dared not acknowledge him. He reveled in the attention, which was obvious to all, though most of them didn’t particularly like him but feared his immense strength. His eyes sparkled with self-satisfaction when he noticed Arkanius, the court magician, sitting in the shadows in the far corner of the hall.

“Arkanius!” he bellowed, deciding to mock the mage once more. “Hiding in the corner again? You should spend more time training with a sword instead of playing with fire sparks!” he added, his voice echoing through the hall.

The courtiers laughed sycophantically at the royal knight’s joke, and Roland, smirking, stepped forward, puffing out his chest dramatically. As usual, his arrogance was on full display.

At that moment, Arkanius felt the fury boiling inside him. 'This fool… How dare he? The power of magic is no joke,' he thought, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Only years of self-control allowed him to mask his true emotions. Slowly, he raised his eyes to Roland, his face remaining calm and even slightly amused, but inside, his mind was ablaze with anger.

'Insignificant upstart… You have no idea who you're dealing with. But I will teach you respect,' Arkanius calmly inhaled and spoke aloud:

“Power, my friend,” his voice was so soft and calm that it could be mistaken for a gentle reproach, “is not always what is visible on the surface.”

Roland paid no attention to these words, thinking the mage was just trying to wriggle out of the situation, and as always, laughed loudly in response. But Arkanius merely smiled slyly. His lips moved slightly, whispering the words of an ancient spell that no one could hear. He leaned back in his chair, watching as the magical forces slowly began to take effect.

Roland was still laughing, continuing his tirade, unaware that his voice had become a bit higher than usual. His shirt, which had always fit snugly on his powerful shoulders, now seemed too baggy. He felt the fabric hang loosely around his chest but chalked it up to simply relaxing.

His pants suddenly felt oddly loose around the waist, and the legs, which once clung tightly to his muscular thighs, now flapped as if they were on a much smaller man. Roland frowned, looking down at his clothing, and thought, 'What the…?' He glanced around, but no one seemed to have noticed yet.

But then, whispers spread through the hall, and Roland noticed that his outstretched arm, raised in mockery, appeared thinner than usual. 'Is this some kind of joke?' he thought, as his fingers grew more delicate, almost feminine, and his skin began to take on a strange greenish tint.

Roland froze. His gaze ran over his arm—the greenish hue continued to spread, his fingers became slender, and his hands turned small and bony. He glanced at the courtiers, hoping to see the usual fear or at least respect in their eyes, but instead, he was met with surprise and even barely concealed horror. The whispers grew louder, and the courtiers exchanged meaningful glances.

He tried to adjust his shirt, but when his fingers touched the fabric, it seemed to be transforming along with him. The sleeves, which were once too large, now clung strangely tight to his thinning arms, and around his waist, the shirt began to morph into something more like a corset.

“What da…?” he muttered under his breath, noticing that his voice sounded… nasally? Before he could finish the thought, his pants, which had been hanging loosely moments ago, suddenly shrank, transforming into something much more form-fitting. One leg, now resembling part of a woman’s stocking, squeezed his thigh, and Roland felt the fabric creeping upward, revealing his legs.

Roland froze, feeling something appearing in his chest, swelling from within. He looked down and grabbed at the new mounds, which grew larger and filled his now small, green hands with soft flesh. His gaze dropped to the shape his body was taking—feminine curves becoming more defined, and he could feel the unfamiliar softness and volume in his hands. He tried to speak again, but his voice betrayed him, rising even higher.

“No-no! Dis you do? You… you make me like dis! No! No-no, me no be dis! Me be strong gnight, not dis… not dis ting!” Roland desperately grabbed at his altered form, his hands trembling. 'What da hell? Why me talk like stupid goblin?' Roland tried to stand tall, attempting to adopt his usual proud stance, but his new body resisted—his shoulders felt too narrow, and his chest pulled him down. He felt his small, clawed fingers nervously clutching the tight uniform that had replaced his former armor.

“Me gnight! Me strong!” He froze, hearing his new voice come out in a shrill, almost screeching tone. Quiet laughter filled the hall, and Roland felt himself redden with humiliation. 'Why dey laugh at me?'

He looked at Arkanius, who watched him with a cold smile.

“Oh, Roland… or should I call you Rolanda?” Arkanius drawled, his voice dripping with cold mockery. He stood up from his seat, walking closer to examine the result of his spell. “Though no, dat name too noble for girl like you,” he continued, stepping even closer. He looked over Roland’s transformed body, slowly smiling. “I tink you more like… Rolly. Rolly Whinegob.”

“No!” he screeched, though his voice now sounded more like a whine. “Me no be dis… dis Rolly! Me gnight! Strong gnight! Me go to king! He can fix me! King no let dis happen!”

She looked around, hoping for support, but the courtiers either avoided her gaze or laughed.

“King?” Arkanius drawled, his voice laced with ridicule. “You really tink king take you like dis, Rolly? You no gnight now… I don’t even know what you is, goblins don’t be in court,” he smirked, savoring each word.

Rolly clenched her clawed fingers, trying to control her rising anger. She saw how the courtiers, instead of fear and respect, were now only laughing and whispering. 'Dey laugh at me! I show dem when I get me body back!'

“No!” Rolly shrieked again, her voice once more betraying her with a high-pitched squeal. “King must hear me! Me no be stupid goblin! Me Roland de Laurens!” But even her own words sounded unconvincing. She turned and began to march toward the exit of the hall, feeling her new chest awkwardly bouncing as she tried to maintain her pride, walking with quick, small steps.

“Oh, how cute she walk,” someone whispered mockingly from the crowd, causing another burst of giggling.

Arkanius, watching Rolly leave, couldn’t resist one last biting remark, which finally broke the court into laughter:

“Oh, Rolly, don’t forget to grab a broom on your way out. Maybe da kitchen need new helper.”

Rolly only quickened her pace, feeling how her new body moved awkwardly and clumsily.