It was a long five weeks

The next day, Anya was awakened and taken to the wheel of pain. She was made to push the thing while a guard would whip her back. This was repeated the next day and the day after. Sometimes, Cathan would torment Anya by fucking Kitty while she worked. The sound moans were agony to Anya, even more so than the whip.

With each week on the wheel of pain with nothing to feed her but beard and water, Anya's muscles were wasting away.

"I love how slender you've become," Cathan said. "You actually look like a girl now."

"I believe girls usually have tits," Kitty said.

"True, but I suppose that's as close as we'll ever get," Cathan replied. "Soon, we're gonna present her like this to the whole kingdom. We shall have her bathed."

The guards took Anya out the cell and to the royal bath. It was a hot tub the maids had prepared for her.

The maids brushed Anya's hair and scrubbed her skin, their wondering hands groping and squeezing her bare body. Kitty was stood by, giggling at Anya's embarrassment about being washed like she was a child again. Anya was then brought to the bed chambers she used to live in before she was exiled. The maids, led by Kitty, brought out a fancy pink dress and delicate white shoes.

"Put this on." Kitty said.

The maids left Anya in her room. Anya stared at her naked reflection in the mirror. After five weeks of hard labour, her body had become less muscular and more slender. Her arms and legs had become as thin like twigs. Despite her more slender body tone, Anya's breasts were still on the small side. Anya tried to get out through the door but it was locked from the other side. She tried escaping through the windows but they were also locked. After an hour, Anya gave it in and put on the dress. Looking in the mirror again, she barely recognised the girl staring back at her.

The pink dress was long enough to reach Anya's feet. It was smooth and slickly with plenty of frills and ribbons. It was perfectly tailored and exactly her size. She couldn't even imagine where Cathan had had it made or how much it cost him.

She felt completely humiliated. A warrior being **** to wear a dress like some doll.

"Are you ready?" Anya's head turned at the sound of her brother's voice. He was standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Cathan." Anya said, her eyes downcast. Her gaze darted up at Cathan. He was wearing a pair of fancy black trousers, white leather boots and a black jerkin decorated with golden threads. His pink hair was loose, hanging down towards his shoulders. On his belt, a long, thin sword hung in its leather sheath. He looked fierce and handsome, everything she wished she was.

"It was me who prevented a full blown revolution while my father sat by and let it happen," Cathan said. "You'll serve as an example that I am not a pushover like him. That'll make most of the powerful nobels fall in line. Uncle Gloucester will still be a problem. No doubt, he wouldn't approve of a such a feminine looking boy sitting on the throne."