Cursed Prince - Leanne's Gloves
Tags: Inanimate, Clothing TF, Caption, Curse
DescriptionIf you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea join the Discord ServerIt's an ongoing series. Check the Lore part here if you want to have your character use the prince.This caption is day 51 Day | 2 Day | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5Cursed Prince - Leanne's GlovesThe Prince emerged fr…
The Prince emerged from darkness into consciousness, awareness slowly filtering back after being dissolved and reformed. Something felt different. His being was split into two distinct shapes, each constructed of delicate white lace and silk. The realization hit him: he was now a pair of regular maid's gloves. "Wakey wakey, Your Highness!" Leanne's cheerful voice rang out as her hands approached. "Look how pretty you are! Much better than being dirty bath water." She picked him up, examining him. "Perfect for a martial arts enthusiast like me. Remember how you used to strike my hands? Said it was 'discipline' for a clumsy maid?" Her fingers slipped inside, and the Prince felt himself stretching to conform to each digit. The sensation was immediate and intense - her warm skin pressing against every inch of his transformed fabric. He could feel her pulse, the slight tremor of excitement in her fingertips. "Mmmm, such a perfect fit!" She flexed her hands, making his material bend and stretch. "Now you'll learn what exactly these hands can do. Let's start with breakfast service!" The morning began in the kitchen, where Leanne immediately set to work on elaborate pastries. Her hands moved with surprising grace as she kneaded dough, the Prince feeling every squeeze and fold. Butter and flour worked their way into his fibers, along with the increasing warmth of her skin. "Time for the delicate work," she hummed, preparing chocolate ganache. Her movements were precise now, piping intricate designs. "Oops!" she giggled as cream dripped down his surface. "Can't waste this..." Her tongue darted out, slowly licking each finger clean. The wet heat of her mouth made his fabric shudder as she thoroughly cleaned every digit. "Oh my," she purred. "Are you enjoying this, Your Highness? Your fabric just twitched." She deliberately licked between her fingers, tongue sliding through the gaps in his material. "Just wait until we really get started." The morning progressed with more cooking tasks. Egg yolks dripped down his surface, sugar crystals worked into his weave, and various spatters of sauce marked his once-pristine white fabric. Each time, Leanne took extra care to ‘clean’ him with her tongue, making sure to suck each finger thoroughly. But the true horror began after breakfast service. "Time to clean!" Leanne announced cheerfully, approaching the grimiest corners of the kitchen. Her hands plunged into spaces untouched for months, possibly years. "Look at all this crud!" she exclaimed, scraping black sludge from behind the stove. The revolting substance worked its way deep into his fibers. Next came the drain traps, filled with decomposing food particles that clung tenaciously to his surface. The smells were overwhelming - rancid oil, moldy leftovers, stagnant water that had been fermenting in forgotten corners. "Getting dirty, aren't we?" she teased, examining his now-stained surface. "But we're just getting started!" Her hands dove into the grease trap, scooping out clumps of congealed fat mixed with food debris. The Prince tried to recoil but could only endure as the disgusting substance was worked deeper into his being. After what felt like hours of degrading cleaning tasks, Leanne finally finished with the kitchen. But instead of changing her soiled gloves, she simply wiped them roughly on her apron. "Can't waste time changing. We have regular duties now!" The afternoon passed in a blur of activities, each adding new layers of dirt and sweat to his already soiled form. Dusting released clouds of particles that worked into his weave. Window washing left soap streaks that dried tacky and stiff. The Prince could feel his once-elegant material becoming increasingly stained and stretched. "Some of the other maids asked if I wanted to borrow clean gloves," Leanne commented as she scrubbed chamber pots. "But I told them these ones need to learn their lesson. Don't you agree, Your Highness?" The evening finally arrived, but instead of relief, the Prince felt growing dread as Leanne entered her private chambers. She stripped down to a sports bra and short shorts, her skin already gleaming with sweat from the day's work. "Now for my real workout," she growled, facing a wooden training dummy scarred from countless previous sessions. "Let's see how you handle some impact training!" THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Each punch rattled through his fabric with bone-crushing force. Her knuckles repeatedly drove into the hardwood, grinding his material between flesh and target. Sweat poured down her arms, soaking into every fiber. "Remember breaking my fingers, Your Highness? Let's try some finger strikes!" Her digits jabbed viciously at small target points, bending his fabric in ways it wasn't meant to move. Each impact sent shockwaves through his transformed being. The focused point of impact threatened to tear his fabric. "Ridge Hand!" The edge of her hand chopped repeatedly, stretching him to his limits. After an hour of brutal training,
