November, Sheba, Ancient Middle East
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Deep in the heart of the Middle East, past the rising sand dunes and caravans of camels, towered a mighty palace that was swathed by gold, jewellery and all manner of riches. This was the mighty Palace of Sheba, home to the beautiful Queen of Sheba who resided inside.
Inside she lounged on her horizontal throne, laying placidly as hordes of men (and women) tended to her needs such as fanning her, feeding her grapes and whatnot while complimenting her on her beauty.
In her aesthetic appearance, Queen Nahira could not be faulted; she had dark, raven hair that flowed elegantly in a long ponytail down one of her shoulders. She had tanned chestnut skin from lying idly in the sun and had charming emerald eyes which sparkles like twinkling stars. Her body, lithe, nimble and supple, was enchanting with curves in the right place and a large DD rack to go along with them.
Although she had the body of a stunning 25 year old woman, the Queen was 168, nearing 200 and the people of Sheba suspected that she had been using dark, supernatural magic to keep herself young that had been forbidden to the people from centuries.
As the Queen opened her maw to gobble up another handful of grapes, the door to her throne room was flung open and standing bravely in the doorway was her former general, Ibrahim the Valiant. Behind him were an assortment of warriors who seemed jittery and anxious in the presence of the Queen.
"Ah, Ibrahim, my formerly loyal lieutenant," the Queen spoke as she clicked her fingers to tell her servants that they could dismiss themselves. She slowly stood up and walked to a bowl of water that was on the ground a few steps away. "Are you parched? It is a long trek from the valley to the Palace, my friend."
She offered up the bowl to him but he slapped it away. "Do not make this harder than it needs to be, Your Highness. You know that I did not come here for pleasure."
"Tsk, so rude! Always coming with the stern, emotionless exterior," she replied, employing a suspiciously sultry voice and laying a soft hand on his torso. "I can read you, my dear Ibrahim- you and I both know there is ALWAYS time for a little pleasure..."
He shrugged her off violently prompting her to do a mock shock face. "You, Queen Nahira of Sheba, have been deemed unfit to rule by me and several other village chiefs. Effective immediately, you are disposed from the Throne and you are going to be held accountable for your crimes of the use of forbidden magic, murder and unlawfully taking subjects as slaves."
Queen Nahira's sarcastic look of shock slowly transformed into one of pure, unbridled rage. "You DARE dispose of ME! I am your QUEEN! You must bow DOWN to ME, you INSOLENT WORM!" As she defiantly retorted she poked a finger into his chest to place extra emphasis on each word.
"Please, stand down. We sensed you were going to fight this so we employed the Sheban army if you try anything."
Her anger seemed to melt away as she let out a malevolent cackle. "My own army, betraying me. I guess I'll just stand down and..." Suddenly, she turned and
shot out her arms towards Ibrahim the Valiant and whispered a few words in an indecipherable tongue. He coughed and fell to his knees as he felt something inside himself changing. He felt his strength ebbing away as his muscles diminished under his armour. His hair grew until it was long and brown and snaked down his back. His face slimmed and his lips grew bigger and he screamed girlishly as he felt his body getting older and wrinklier. Now where once stood Ibrahim the Valiant, a strong Sheban soldier, was a withered elderly lady donning battle armour that swamped her frail frame.
"Ah, that was... SCRUMPTIOUS!" The army turned to see Queen Nahira in her newest form: she looks about 5 years younger with larger (but not huge) muscles on her fit physique. She'd grown about 5 inches, from 5'2" to 5'7" and looked like she could take on the army singlehanded. She cackled yet again as she flexed her newly acquired muscles. "I needed a good feast and I've got to say Ib, you've really sated my hunger! I could last another few decades with the meal you gave me! Getting it from you especially- mhmm, that's the best part about it!"
The army stood gaping at the scene in front of them: their ferocious, (formerly) awe-inspiring leader had been reduced to an elderly lady by the Queen who now possessed his (former) strength and she looked eager to use it.
"W-wait!" Ibrahim piped up, struggling to rise from his seated position. "Y-you didn't think that was our o-only plan?" As he finally rose he opened his palm and revealed a vibrant orange stone which glowed brightly. "Be gone foul witch!"
An orange portal opened behind her, growing larger each second. Although it seemed to not affect Ibrahim or any of the soldiers, Queen Nahora felt the vortex tugging at her. Although she had improved strength, it proved not to be enough as she was quickly sucked inside and left with a squeaky pop.
"*Pant*. *Pant*. I-I need to lie down," said Ibrahim as he collapsed on the cold, hard ground.
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