Chapter 1 - Jasmine WG, DG, Footplay

Jasmine, princess of Agrabah, had once lived a sheltered existence - relegated to her palace; and only able to slip out and into the city around it. Yet, in recent years, she’s had time to see the world beyond the city walls - to see the wonders it held; to see the magic that lay hidden within it. This magic, she knew, was as wondrous as it was dangerous - never to be taken lightly. The princess was confident in her judgment; secure in the belief that she knew what she could safely use to benefit her kingdom… And what would be better left hidden, never to be found. 
 
Her confidence, however, came into question when she came into possession of the Urn of Mahija. Having liberated it from an unearthed tomb, legend spoke of it as the resting place of a powerful spirit - not a genie, and certainly not a living soul. Vague as its origin may be, Mahija was described as a beneficent creature with vast magical powers - moreover, it was commonly associated with royalty. Great leaders were said to have sought the spirit out for their power and counsel alike; usings its boons to build powerful kingdoms - though none still stand to this day.
 
Jasmine looked over the urn; composed of clay inlaid with intricate carvings and coated with paint - having faded and begin to peel with age. Keeping it sealed was a lid inlaid with the face of a smiling woman - one that seemed to stare expectantly at the princess. Tentatively - Jasmine grasped the lid firmly and unsealed it… Only to find the urn empty.
 
Staring down into the urn, she saw nothing but darkness - unnaturally thick; so much so that she couldn’t even see the bottom of the container. She was tempted to reseal the thing when she saw a glint of gold within the darkness - soon growing; surging upward into a brilliant blast of energy, knocking the princess back as the urn hovered in midair. Spewing forth from it was a cloud of gold dust - slowly assembling into the shape of a woman… A woman, Jasmine came to realize, that had little in the way of modesty. 
 
The woman now holding the urn was nothing short of statuesque; standing high above the princess. The torchlight within the tomb highlighted a glittery texture upon her rich, dusky skin and within her long, dark hair. She didn’t appear to wear any form of clothing - rather, an intricate harness of gold chains - for the most part, hanging upon her body loosely; but some were connected to other piercings upon her form - starting with a ring in one of her nostrils, passing through a pair adorning her nipples, and terminating upon a ring on her navel. 
 
“I bid thee greetings and salutations,” she begins, her voice low and sultry; oozing out from gold-painted lips. “and offer thee my sincerest thanks, for releasing me from mine prison. I am Mahija - to whom is it that I am indebted?”
 
The princess stood up shakily, dusting stand from her dress. “I am Jasmine of Agrabah,” she begins earnestly. “and I seek your counsel, as a leader of my people.”
 
Their introduction was brief - but in such a short time, Jasmine found herself trusting of Mahija. The spirit spoke loftily of her power; of the kingdoms she’d served… And more grimly, of how they had fallen when they disregarded her counsel. Yet, as proud as she was to speak of her own deeds - she was eager to see Jasmine’s work. With neither the spirit nor the princess eager to spend any more time within the tomb, they departed for Agrabah aboard the princess’ magic carpet. Night fell soon after - and once they arrived at the palace, the princess fell asleep quickly, eager to give Mahija a tour of her beloved city.
 
When the princess awoke, she found the spirit just as eager to see her kingdom. They spent hours within the palace - and soon departed for the city at large. Jasmine spoke honestly of her love for her people; how she sought to make their lives better… As Mahija continued to adore the palace, even as it got further and further away. She spirit mercifully adorned herself with a white silken dress - so as to not draw too many eyes.
 
As the sun slowly began to set on Agrabah, the princess and the spirit retired to the palace once more. Mahija was quiet for a time - seemingly digesting all she’d seen throughout the day.
 
The spirit followed Jasmine to her chambers as she prepared to retire for the night - humming softly. “So kind are thee to those beneath thineself,” she begins. “but hast thou ever shared their experience?” Jasmine was disarmed. “How can thou know of what will improve their lives, when thou merely observe them from thine loft?”
 
The princess wanted to argue - but she saw truth in the spirit’s words. As much as she tried to participate in the lives of the commonfolk, she could never truly divorce herself from her noble roots. Even living a day in the life of one of her people still bore the promise of returning to the palace when the day was through.
 
“I see your point.” she admits. “But what can I do?”
 
Mahija beamed; chuckling softly. “It is within my power to impose upon thee a trial.” She raises her hands; golden energy sparking from her fingertips. “For three moons thou shall find thyself awakening further from thine life of luxury; becoming a woman most unassuming. Be vigilant and take heed in this new life - for if thou cannot learn from thy people in ten moons, forever shall this life be yours.”
 
Mahija’s words seemed… Damning. And yet - the opportunity this provided was indispensable. It was an experience she couldn’t simply simulate - and invaluable to how she can provide for her people. 
 
“I’ll do it.” she responds boldly - evoking a soft chuckle from Mahija.
 
“Then rest, princess…” she begins, slinking away from Jasmine’s chambers. “For where thou shalt wake will be most surprising.”
 


 
Jasmine awoke the next morning in a different room; a smaller room. She recognized it as the quarters of one of her personal servants. Her rest, she supposed, must have been fitful - as when she awoke, she felt fatigued. As she prepared for her day - she found that her wardrobe hadn’t changed much. More respected servants were afforded rather nice dresses, after all. 
 
The princess found herself falling easily in her new role - she was used to pretending to be a commoner, after all; but to do so before people who would know better was just a little strange.
 
One of the biggest mysteries on her mind was that of who had… Filled her role, she supposed. Though she tried to gain access to her former chambers - but she found guards posted at the door. 
 
“The princess is ailing.” they claimed. “She is being attended to.”
 
Unsure of how else to busy herself, Jasmine made her way to the kitchens - helping prepare food for the denizens of the palace. It was tiring work - doubly so with how tired she actually felt - but… A little fun, she had to admit. By the time night fell, the princess was rather satisfied with her decision to undergo this trial - perhaps she hadn’t learned anything just yet, but… She supposed she had ample time to do so.
 


 
Jasmine awoke the next day feeling worse than she had when she’d fallen asleep. Rising from bed with a harsh groan, she found herself in a much larger room than before - but she wasn’t in her royal chambers. She found herself in one bed among many; most occupied by other servant girls. She’d only been to this room once or twice - and had never envied the servants that had to bunk together. 
 
Looking upon herself - the princess noticed something was wrong. Her body was… Not as she remembered it. Her lithe frame was now padded with a bit of extra weight - giving her a huskier build. One, as she slipped on a simple red dress, filled out her clothes a bit more than she was used to. In this new life of hers, as well, she apparently didn’t have the benefit of royal… Grooming; feeling particularly ashamed of the hair she found growing beneath her arms and over her crotch. On the note of her hair - it seemed to be losing its luster. She didn’t have the benefit of a mirror just yet; but she could tell that it was coarser and duller.
 
The fatigue from yesterday persisted as she made her way into the palace; and so too did a lingering soreness in her back and legs. Such pain only grew worse as she found herself tasked with housekeeping - sweeping dust from the floors, beating it out of rugs, watering the plants in the courtyards… It was much more arduous than the day prior. Coupled with the soreness she already felt - she came to understand how taxing work could be for her servants and handmaidens. 
 
As she finally and eagerly returned to the servants’ quarters, she hoped this was the lesson she was supposed to learn.
 


 
Jasmine knew she was wrong when she awoke, the next day. She gave a low, husky grumble as she sat up in bed - or what she now treated as one. Gone was the firm structure of a bedframe and mattress upon it - the princess now found herself resting on a series of blankets layered upon each-other; set on the floor beneath her. 
 
She held a hand against her aching back as she sat up - lingering pain nagging at it. When she brushed a blanket off of herself - she was aghast at what she saw.
 
While she seemed huskier before; the princess was now… Fat. There was no other word for it. Her stomach formed a flabby gut, resting over her crotch, but unable to hide the dense thatch of hair growing all the way up to her navel. Her thighs had become thick and chunky - beneath them, even her legs had a noticeable coating of hair upon them. Her arms fared little better - but perhaps most horrid to the formerly-youthful princess was her breasts. They seemed no larger or smaller - but their prior perkiness had given way to an utter collapse of the flesh, leaving them unflatteringly saggy.
 
Shakily standing up, she found herself in a rather… Simple home - the likes of which she understood wasn’t even near the palace. Set beside her was a bowl of water - looking into its still surface, she found a pale shadow of her former self staring back at her. Her luxurious raven locks had devolved into a coarse mass of varying shades of grey. Her face was decidedly more haggard and aged - emphasized by thick bags under her eyes.
 
She found a rough-hewn dress to adorn herself with; and as she searches through her battered wardrobe - she finds a sign of guidance in this new life. Sitting at the bottom of the  wardrobe was a wooden sign, with a  crudely-painted message upon it. Jasmine squints - the well-read princess having trouble working her way through the four simple words. 
 
“Wash… Foot… For money?” she muses. The princess felt baffled by the idea - but… There was a strange sensation within her; deep in her gut… She wasn’t sure what it was, but it affirmed what the sign suggested. She wasn’t a servant in the palace anymore - she was just… A woman that washed others’ feet.
 
Jasmine was inclined to feel… Demoralized by this revelation, but… As hard as it was for her to accept, she realized this was part of her trial. She set about scrounging for supplies for this… Endeavor of hers - if this was her life, she’d live it…
 
And she’d immediately hate it. 
 
Jasmine found a spot close to a well, so she could refill her basin. She wasn’t too far from the bazaar either - which made her visible to a decent amount of travellers. Propping up her sign and settling down in the dirt, she awaited her first customer. It took an hour of sitting in the hot sun - but eventually, a merchant woman stopped by to purchase her services. She offered her a stool, and removed her footwear. She wore rather nice sandals - the type Jasmine recognized as something out of her royal wardrobe. She looked them over for a moment or two, bringing them closer - just enough to catch the scent of the woman’s feet-
 
Before she snaps herself away, getting a headstart on servicing the woman. Jasmine rubbed dirt off of her tired soles; the water doing little to hide the pungent scent of her sweaty feet. Jasmine expected to be nauseated, but… Truthfully it was rather bearable for her. When she was all said and done, the woman tossed her a pair of gold coins - something Jasmine knew just barely covered the price of bread. But, well… The day was young. She had an opportunity to make more money, didn’t she?
 
Opportunity came and went, as the day marched on. She felt busy - she could hardly recall a period where she didn’t have somebody else’s foot in her sore, wrinkled hands… But each one tossed her a pittance. One even refused to pay her outright - claiming “Ya can’t get cheaper than free!”
 
Jasmine was too tired at the time to argue. The water in her basin was now brackish and murky - fragrant in its own right; with her rags having grown brownish with the dirt she’d been working into them.
 
Her back and knees were sore from bending over all day; and her hands were sore from her labors. She was prepared to head home…
 
Until she saw princess Jasmine.
 
The woman walking toward her was… Well, her. Her as she was supposed to be; bearing the same youth, the same dress, the same face… But a different look in her eyes. Jasmine could never recall a time when she looked so… Malicious.
 
“I bid thee greetings and salutations,” she begins, a venomous tone working its way into the familiar sound of her voice. “and offer thee my sincerest thanks, for so generously offering me thine position.”
 
“Mahija!” Jasmine balks. “What’re you doing?”
 
The spirit in her skin strides over to Jasmine’s stool, plopping herself down upon it. “Enjoying the fruits of mine efforts. It’s been so long since I’ve had any semblance of authority.”
 
The haggard woman leers up at Mahija. “Authority? It… Hmph. Don’t get used to it. I’m well on my way to completing this trial of yours-”
 
Mahija laughs as she reaches down to her feet, removing her slippers and placing them delicately on the ground. “Trial? My, how gullible. There was never any trial.” 
 
Jasmine’s blood goes cold. 
 
“Thou shalt have all the time in the world to learn the plight of thine people - for thus is thine life.”
 
“But- but what about… Ten days…?” Jasmine stammers out, her heart hammering in her chest.
 
Mahija snickers. “More akin to seven, now…” she chuckles out. “Seven moons to retain thine memory. After then - mine curse is sealed. Thine new life will be cast eternal; and thou shalt never know it’s been any different. New name. New memories. New life.”
 
Jasmine looks down at her hands - paralyzed. What had she done…?
 
Mahija snaps her fingers, bringing the former princess’ attention up to her - and to a coinpurse in her hands. “Seems as though thou hast earned a paltry sum. Mayhap the munificent princess can offer the peasant a substantial fee…” She lifts her bare feet up; wiggling her toes. “For services rendered?”
 
Jasmine gulps dryly. The bold young princess within her wants to protest - wants to rebel… But, the tired old peasant woman she’d become leans forward, taking the new princess’ foot in one hand, and a rag in the other. 
 
With the young princess within her fading into memory, she gets to work.