Unsheathing The Sword

Story by CrudeBuster

Okay crazy people, I was spanked by my muses so badly I asked help

from SomeRandomBastard, srb for short, to give a peek in my scribbles.

He spanked me even more, doing the best proofreading I could wish for free.

Now I present our work for you, hoping my fixed english sounds good for you noble people from the Palace, my humble story about a... um... schoolgirl becoming futa. heh.

Enjoy it the most you can, and swear the most you want, I'm just tired of spankings. lol

Srb: :14:"for help from SomeRandomBastard... scribbles not scribs. *spanks again*"

:(( I've fixed it, please stop!! It hurts!

Srb: It's Unsheathing.

:66: Ouch! Uh!? Oh right, fixed...

Srb: Now let's do the tags.

:17: Okay. *Cahem*

This story contains Futa/Fem, Oral, Virgin, Magic, Transformation, Fem/Mast, Voy.

If you are offended or not allowed to read this kind of fiction, please act as if Jack Bauer thinks you're a terrorist and scram.

That night was just like any other, since King Trafalgar brought peace over the lands.

The party was on its best moment, when she receives gifts, anxiously opening the boxes and thanking the people around. Dresses, jewelries, silly hats...

Almost her entire family is present on the two story house, where her sisters, brothers,

mom and dad live.

Only Uncle Lars was late, the travel from Last Well was being longer than expected.

The house was the back of her dad's store, a nice place around the main street, near the castle of Gorandia, from where the city gets its name.

The last gift is from her mother, a modest necklace in a humble little box, "Grandma said that you would like it. It is a relic from her adventuring times."

The birthday girl was filled with enthusiasm. Her brown eyes shone, and her long hair, that

covers her back, was all messy, being barely held in place with a simple headband.

She was the youngest kid, constantly being picked on because of her height.

Most of her sisters and mother were a foot taller than her, but her womanly features were all developed.

Dad was proud but very cautious with his "daisy", the nickname he gave Cassia.

"Is this some kind of magical thing? I'm deathly afraid of these things," Cassia replies, stepping back, avoiding to touch the box.

Her mother opens it, showing the old jewel for all the family to see. It's a fine silver necklace with a single little plate, picturing an engraved childish butterfly with six arms in its back, and an encrusted square dark green stone in the front.

"When she passed it for me to keep, she didn't say anything amazing about it. Please, keep it," Mother says, looking deep in Cassia's eyes, handing her the box, while closing it.

Her Mother rarely told her stories about her grandmother.

Cassia was always enticed to know more about the past of her family, as old granny was dead long time ago, and barely anybody really knew much about her.

Mother hands over the box, with a smile. The rest of the family enjoys the party, as well as the wealth gained during these hard years after the ending of the wars.

The day ends, she dumps the box in her collection, and goes to sleep before awaking to another day of her quiet life.

She wakes up, and studies in the local school, where she passes the most of the day.

The remnants of the evening, as cashier and accountant on the family business, the great but little known Galbert's Dry and Wet, a respectable food and grain general store among the others in the Left Street, where one can see the sunset passing by the castle.

While her other friends enjoyed learning "the things that wives need to know", as Mom says, she choose to be a sales expert, so Dad taught her the ways of a good merchant, by

practically slaving her on the job, a lot of hard work. While her brothers do the deliveries, she takes care of the books and stocks the shelves.

But Cassia was always bored of her life.

A pleasant interruption on it, was when her close friend Jamie comes to buy some supplies for the village Archmage Kilvan, that lived alone before requesting her services some months ago, in the Ivory Tower in the middle of the near forest.

The tower was old and dirty, as the wind had painted it, from years ago, no more resembling its name...

From the city, just its top could be seen.

Cassia recognizes her inst

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