Chapter 2 - Star Vs. OC Feminization

Among the many benefits of royalty, perhaps one of the most known and expected is the presence of servants. Butlers, handmaids, gofers and the like - standing ready and at the beck and call of their lord or lady, prepared to do any matter of menial task while their master or mistress attends to more important duties… Or, is simply spared the drudgery. 
 
This concept was not lost among the Mewni - but to prince regent Jupiter Moon, it was something he found himself deprived of. 
 
His mothers; Queen Star and Jackie, typically pampered the boy - something they, perhaps, had become aware of in recent weeks. The effeminate prince had been… Eager to enjoy the perks of royalty - seen to by a cadre of maids who have seen to taking care of his every whim. While not wholly spoiled, the queens saw such behavior as a slippery slope; as something they wished to steer the boy away from. It was no shock to him when he was called into the grand hall of their castle; flanked by his maids - but Jupiter was disarmed when Queen Jackie ordered them to disperse; leaving only the prince before the two queens. 
 
Star treated what followed as a royal decree - entrusting her son with a grand quest; the likes of which may change the fiber of his being for the better.
 
Jackie treated it exactly as it was: they were giving their son chores. 
 
At first, Jupiter accepted his tasks passively - the list of things they wanted him to do seemed… Simple. It was typically things he had his maids take care of; which in his mind, wasn’t overwhelming. They all seemed like easy tasks; just things he didn’t want to bother with. For a week, the queens had him run a gauntlet of simple chores - cleaning his room, cleaning up in the royal kitchen, doing laundry alongside their handmaids, helping weed the royal gardens… Throughout which the prince became progressively more chuffed. He felt as though he wasn’t gaining anything from the experience; that all it was doing was wasting his time.
 
As much as Jupiter wanted to complain - he also saw himself moving further down the mercifully-finite list of tasks his mothers had entrusted him with. As he’d come to expect, the last tasks on the list were among the most demanding of his time and energy - finally culminating in his most rigorous task yet: organizing one of the royal storerooms.
 
Dozens of storerooms existed in the castle; each one packed to the brim with old furniture, paintings, trinkets, and artifacts of regents ten generations passed. Whereas before he was taking care of tasks his servants would typically perform…
This was something the queens wouldn’t even bother the servants with. 
 
Of course, Jupiter presumed that was deliberate - a final test of his mettle. While he still wasn’t convinced this experience had taught him anything… If finishing this task meant he was done with all of this, he was eager to see it completed. 
 
Upon selecting his storeroom, Jupiter’s eagerness quickly faded. He’d spent the better part of an hour peeking into different rooms - but each one seemed just as impossibly packed as the others. He tried setting certain criteria for which would be easier to organize - ones that were less dense, or had lighter stuff filling it, or were less dusty… But slowly the bar fell until the one he chose met the meager criteria of being able to open the door fully. 
 
The prince coughed as he stepped in - in lieu of a wand, he carried a feather duster, which he waved in a circle to conjure a sphere of light to illuminate the room. He shut the door behind him; resigning himself to a long day of work. 
 
By the time the first hour had passed, Jupiter was a wreck. He wasn’t exhausted - he resolved to take care of the dust coating everything before he started moving anything, but that proved a little more… Challenging than he anticipated. Thick patches of grey now copiously covered the front of the frilly apron he’d… Borrowed to protect his clothes; and a dusty smear sat plainly on one of his cheeks. It didn’t feel like he’d made any headway either - whatever dust he knocked off of one box seemed to settle on others, and even his attempts to blast it away with magic just kicked more of the stuff up. 
 
Unenthused and tired - Jupiter made his way over to the wall of boxes set before him. He had to push a crate closer to stand on just to start picking boxes off of the stack - trying to at least pick apart the massive stack before sorting through all of it. It was as he began to clear the boxes that he came to realize that the room wasn’t packed as tight as he’d thought - in fact, the wall before him was… Pretty much just that - a wall, dividing the first half of the room from the other. Sitting behind the stack was another assortment of clutter and artifacts - he could make out a few things with clothes draped over them, and in the center of the room, Jupiter saw a… Wardrobe. 
 
Curiously, he climbs through the hole he’d made in the stack - dropping gracefully into the walled-off portion of the room. The wardrobe before him seemed… Dusty; much like everything else, but fairly new. The wood was still glossy; not a blemish on it, but curiously… There was a chain wrapped around its handles, with a bulky padlock securing it.
 
The prince couldn’t help but reach for the lock - and as soon as his fingers made contact, a spark leapt from his fingertip and into the metal. Soft, green light emanated from it - illuminating a set of finely-detailed runes along its edges - and after a moment, the lock disengaged, its weight dragging the chain it’d been securing onto the floor with a loud clatter. 
 
While curious about what may lay inside - Jupiter hadn’t meant to open the lock. He wasn’t sure why it was released at his touch… But his curiosity for the wardrobe overpowered his care for such a mystery. Quickly, he threw the doors open - and with a rush of stale air, he found himself beholding…
 
A dress.
 
Immediately, the prince felt a little disappointed. 
 
Being locked up, Jupiter expected something a little more… Peculiar. Something dangerous, something fantastic, something scandalous - but all he saw before him was a pretty typical dress… Even if it had an odd texture. In the brilliant illumination of his hovering ball of light, there was a clear glossiness - even a reflective quality to the material. It was an odd choice; even if the garment itself seemed fairly… Typical of a noble gown. It was mostly black; with a white breast and sleeves. It seemed to be a rather grand sort of garment - with puffy shoulders and thick, overlapping skirts made of that odd glossy material. Pinching one of the ruffles, the prince pulled at it - surprised that it continued to stretch for quite a while before snapping back into position. 
 
Clicking his tongue, he shut the wardrobe again. Like this entire endeavor, he thought - it was just a waste of his time. Turning away, he prepares to climb back through the gap he’d made…
 
“Star? Is that you, dearie?” 
 
Jupiter freezes in place - who said that? An ominous creak echoed out from behind him - turning his attention back to the wardrobe. One of the doors was opening again - and reaching through the gap was one of the dress’ glossy sleeves. 
 
“Ooooh, yes, it must be. I’ve missed you ever so much.” The dress seems to hover out of the wardrobe; its skirt sliding across the dusty ground. Even without a head sticking out of its neck - Jupiter could feel its gaze resting squarely upon him. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he’d made a mistake - one he was eager to get as far away from as he possibly could.
 
The prince leaps up and tries to squirm through the boxes, but soon he feels something twisting around his ankle. 
 
“Ohoho, no you don’t~ We haven’t seen each-other in years - I’m not letting you get away this time~” the lofty voice of the dress chimes. With its sleeve coiled around him, the dress pulls him back towards itself each movement it makes prompting a rubbery squeal. The dress looms over the prince as he finds himself resting at its feet, or… Eh, skirt. As much as he kicks and squirms - he can’t avoid it as it seems to glide over him - swallowing his body up in the darkness within it. 
 
One he’s inside, he feels the dress release his ankle - and he tries to stand up - only to feel himself surrounded on all sides by the rubbery material. Looking upward, he can see his ball of light still shining through the open neck hole of the dress - he reaches up with both hands - trying to squirm up and out… But he quickly feels his arms diverted; grasped and swallowed up by the dress even as he continues to rise, higher and higher… Until his head pops cleanly out of the neck of the dress. 
 
“My my, I didn’t expect you to be this eager! I can’t say I’m disappointed, but…” Jupiter winces as he feels the dress constrict around him - tightening around his chest, arms, and legs. “You’ve changed, dear! Don’t you worry - my sole purpose is to make sure you’re always beautiful. Why don’t we get started…?”
 
The  dress extends its sleeves forward - peeling back until his hands are revealed. At first, he balls them fists, trying to struggle out of it, but a tingling sensation pervades his fingers; forcing them out of their clenched posture. Jupiter yelps as he watches the color drain from his hands; turning a powdery white, even as his fingernails darken. He can feel them just fine, and yet… As the dress puppets glides away from the wardrobe, he feels his movements… Puppeted by the dress around him. Sluggishly, his hands reach out for a cloth draped over one of the other objects, pulling it away - with a shower of dust - to reveal a mirror. The sight of his head peeking out against the glossy dress seemed surreal, but…
 
Eerily, his hands looked a little more fitting for it. 
 
“Let’s start with your figure - I can’t do much about it, but I can give you some help…” The dress forces his hands against his chest - and he can feel it tighten again. This time, he can feel the cool, slick material of the rubber pressing against his clothes - the prince shudders as he feels it touching his skin directly… Through his shirt? No - it was getting rid of his shirt; it was eating away at all of his clothes, until it hugged every inch of his bare flesh. There’s a wet sensation across his chest as he feels something adhere to it - growing; inflating and pushing the dress out until the defined curvature of two breasts stretched the rubber dress out. 
 
“Much better!” it chimes. “But we’ve still got work to do!” Reaching around to his rear, the sensation returns - a heavy weight building across his backside as the rubber frills of the dress are pushed out by an artificial plumpness hanging off of him. Jupiter wants to protest - but he feels choked by the frilly collar of the dress. Feeling the dress mess with him is one thing - but watching it bury his body beneath itself in the mirror was another thing entirely. 
 
The dress gives a posh scoff, chiding “Oh, and your face. We’ll just have to fix that as well, shall we?” His face? Wait- no, it can’t-!
 
His hands - feeling as cold as the dress puppeting them - poke his cheeks. Radiating out from the point of contact, he can see a white, powdery texture spread across his face - hiding his fair tone; his freckles, his… Everything, under a plain, snowy field of white. His fingers pull away again - then more forcefully jab his cheeks; leaving two black spots. Slowly, they spread and deform, becoming a pair of hearts. They trek over to his lips; one finger running across the upper, the other across the lower; painting them black as well. 
 
He grits his teeth as they release him… But against his will, his lips curl into a smile. “Looking good, dearie.” The dress’ voice blurts out from his own lips - causing him to balk. “Now, for the finishing touch…” His hands rise up to his hair; running through his pampered locks; the mere touch causing them to darken. As he runs them over the top of his head and around the back; his hair seems to lengthen - carrying a torrent jet black first across his short, boyish cut; and then prompting new, curlier locks to fall from his head, over his shoulders. 
 
“We’ll have to see a proper stylist to do something with it,” the dress explains through his mouth. “But don’t worry. For all the time you’ve had me locked away, I’ve had plenty of time to think about the perfect style for you.” The dress squeezes around Jupiter’s body - pinching against his waist and rubbing against his trapped crotch in some sort of perverse, full-body hug. “Now that we’re together again… We have all the time in the world.”
 
Even as his mouth curls into a proud grin, his eyes betray a look of fear as he looks over himself in the mirror - an… Exaggerated, gothic caricature of his own mother. As he wondered how much worse it could get - the dress forces him to lick his dark lips.
 
“I do hope you’ve been keeping up on your etiquette, dear. If not… I’ll gladly get you back up to standard.”