A hand grabs you before you can even look.

Suddenly long grey arms stretch from the black disk and a voice hammers into your mind, “Good, I need an elven princess to breed my wizard clutch. You will do this perfectly.” A flood of memories of your life in the elven kingdom of Silverymoon are **** into your mind as you make contact with the portal again and they take root and you watch as a pair of gravity defying DD’s swell on your chest. Your body develops slender sexy curves and a sexy perky bottom atop the glorious long legs of an athlete. Your general build is that of a professional athlete, a runner to be sure, but with a bit more curve, and those amazing soft breasts that stand proudly on your chest. “Your highness, this will protect you from the maelstrom, never take it off.” Reginald, your fathers Grey Slaadi advisor, a creepy frog like humanoid 6’ tall wearing the regal black purple and gold robes of his station slides a silver circlet with a softly glowing golden yellow gem in the center onto your forehead.

Once it is on your mind stops spinning and you finally begin to feel normal, “Thank you Reginald.” You say in your sweet almost musical voice.

“We must get you dressed your highness, the ceremony is about to begin.” You instantly know he is speaking of his peoples birthing ceremony. You still can’t believe father made you come here. But of course you are the youngest and most expendable, if something were to go wrong and you died it wouldn’t really hurt the kingdom as much as your more accomplished older siblings. If only you didn’t fancy yourself an adventurer and spent more time learning how to influence people in court rather that how to slay monsters with sword and pistol. He helps you put on the fine latticework silver bracers on your arms, “Your armor your highness.” He says as he puts it on. They can ward off any attack up to the power of a direct hit from a pistol. “Your under garments.” He says and helps you into a very small soft white bra and g-string that ties at the back of your neck and back on top and the sides of your hips below. “Boots.” He then helps you into a pair of knee high soft white boots with 4” silver stiletto heels. You then clasp on your fine silver chain weapon belt with your long silver dagger on your left side and your trusty sig .45 on your right with 3 extra 8 shot mags in a small pouch just behind your dagger. “Oh, you have weapons.” Reginald says, a note of surprise in his voice.

“I know daddy said I wasn’t supposed to bring them, but I don’t go anywhere without them. Don’t worry I won’t mess anything up.” You reassure him.

“You can set them next to the pedestal I suppose.” He then holds out a gossamer thin long silvery white robe with slits at the waist to allow freedom of movement and weapon access. You put it on and clasp it closed with the little silver clasp just below your breasts. “Come now the donors are ready.”

“So be honest. What chance do I have of survival?”

He gently takes your arm to lead you, “Oh I don’t know exactly. Probably around 20% unless you resist, then they will keep tightening the loop till it breaks your neck and severs your spinal cord, if it goes that far they usually mercy kill you after the birthing.”

“I see.” You let him lead you and start trying to remember what you did to piss off father so bad he would agree to send you here, last born or not. “So why am I agreeing to this again?” You ask him.

Your question is clearly flustering him, “Your father needs our warriors. This was the only way our king agreed to send them. You will replace them.” The hall opens to a large room with a raised circle in the center with a heavy looking 3’ tall black metal pedestal in the center with a crank on it and loop of rope sticking out the top. “Here we are. Set your weapons at the base and put your head in the loop.” He walks you up and five other Slaadi step from the shadows, their foot long cocks already hard.

(Warning the yes path gets dark before you can escape)