An Orc Woman's Growing Love

[>_< 0_0]

At last, I finally put this story to paper after first daydreaming the concept about four years ago. I'm excited about this one.

Chapter One

               “No… no!” I seethed with unbridled fury. “Not now… not here…”

               Rather fortunate that I’d found myself an unlocked and empty room in such a bustling tavern. Even now, the sound of clinking mugs and merriment could be heard through the door I was breathlessly leaning against. Their revelry drowned-out any sound of the traveling bard’s singing – and all the better for me. That damned singing…

               “Focus, damn it,” I grit my teeth and felt my tusks draw blood from my face. “You’re better than this. A love song? Is that all it takes to get you off?”

               That love song… that sappy, stupid love song. I hated it. I hated all love songs! I was an orc warrior, not some soft-hearted princess! I killed for money. My battle-axe hacked through the flesh and bone of creatures and cretins alike! None could match my bravery. A mere glance at my steeled gaze wilted the courage of the bravest of men, for I was Grulda Vax of the Reindeer Clan, firstborn daughter of Chief Uldun. I could wrestle every male in my village to the ground before I could even run, my mighty legs could match pace with snow leopards, and the flex of my thighs could crush gourds. I was the mightiest warrior and mercenary of my clan, and had no interest in love. My soul was cold as ice and as strong as stone.

               And yet…

               And yet no matter how much I told myself such things, sometimes a small part of me would know it was untrue, for I was merely an orc. An orc with emotions and feelings like any other race. An orc with a most terrible curse… a curse that was making itself known against the buckle of my belt.

               “Control yourself,” I sneered down at the belly bulge that was making my belt uncomfortably tight. “You hate songs. You hate them. Hate, hate, hate, hate…”

               Yes, I was an orc warrior like my parents before me, and I lived a hard life as a killer for coin, but I was burdened with a witch’s curse – a curse so foul I swore to never let anyone know of it. Long ago, in my first year of adventuring, my contract had me cross paths with a witch.

Witches… damned spellcasters. As if I hadn’t enough reasons to hate them! You could face-off most anyone else and know what to expect as soon as you got a look at the size of their arms. Not so with witches. They might be puny potion peddlers or fire-breathing maniacs or anything in between and there was no way of knowing until it was too late. My witch was a trickster.

I remembered it like it were yesterday: a musty tomb, my defeated enemies strewn about the bloodied floor as I cornered the witch with my battle-axe raised high, ready to strike the killing blow – until a blinding flash hit my eyes and the worst rhyme imaginable hit my ears: By the power of stars above, all shall see your growing love. Unless –

Shouldn’t have slain her. Might have been able to make her undo the curse. As it was, I had to deal with the effects of the curse: when my heart swelled with love, so too did my body.

It was swelling now: the firm, rigid abs of my gut was growing into a rounded potbelly. Like a full meal, it pushed outwards against the front of my leather jerkin, and pinched against the belt buckle even as I adjusted the fit and pressed the fat back into place like dough. Disgusting. Abhorrently-sloppy. Obscene and unbefitting of a warrior. I hated it.

“I hate it,” I growled to myself. “I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it… they hate you, Grulda. Everyone in that tavern hates you. You’re just an orc. A cruel, uncivilized brute of an orc.”

As I held my gut with self-loathing, I felt it stop growing. The fingers holding its sides stopped prying apart, and with painstaking effort, they began to close together. The belly began to shrink, retreating from the belt and settling back into place beneath my leathers. Fat melted-away, revealing the abs once more like pebbles at low tide. The… feelings were gone; I was a warrior once more.

“Well,” I muttered thoughtfully with my ear pressed to the door. “Best not go drinking now. I’ll stay in here. Looks fine enough, and the innkeep surely won’t notice one unpaying customer…”

The room was… roomy enough, and furbished a bit excessively for a crossroads tavern, but a plundering mercenary such as myself was no stranger to luxury. I could do with a soft bed with a feather mattress, and the window would bring in a welcome breeze in this humid summer heat. And the vanity mirror… that would serve me very well, for I was as vain as I was ruggedly beautiful.

It had been some time since I’d seen my reflection, but there was no denying that the scowling green face in the mirror was mine, though I’d earned fresh scars of late. A faint, shallow gash traced diagonally across my left cheekbone, and an older, longer one cut across my forehead.

“That was a close one,” I smirked to myself and raised a doubly-pierced brow. “But no helmet beats being able to see. This, however,” I rested my hands against the jerkin protecting my chest. “Could do with more protection…”

I began to unlace the leather jerkin’s front and peel it from my torso. Leathers fared me well in most circumstances, being light and unrestricting, but there was always better armour to be found. I had my mind set on dwarven brigandine, which would do well to protect my arms. The furred, bracers and pauldrons I wore now only provided so much protection.

All were peeled from my torso, one by one, till I was bare from the waist upwards. Muscles layered upon muscles, piled thickly enough to make many human men seem like overgrown halflings, and wrapped about a frame tall enough to peer over the biggest crowds. Two full-grown dwarves could hang from both of my flexed biceps, and a third could stride between my massive quads – if only they dared! Every inch of me rippled with strength, save for two round, womanly breasts resting over a buxom chest I’d inherited from my even-more buxom mother. I cupped them within my hands for a brief moment of reflection. It seemed rigorous training and exercise could only harden your body so much. A pity.

Now to bare my lower half. Each of my legs was strapped within form-fitting leathers just loose enough for full mobility. It was a pain lacing them down the middle as well as all the way down my thighs, but it sure beat chainmail or greaves, and I’d grown skilled at loosening them in case… in case they caught fire. Hadn’t fought a dragon yet, but meeting one was always a possibility.

Now that I was bare, the full splendour of my body was on display. I twisted and turned before the mirror, eyeing the flex and bulge of my glutes while enjoying the breeze blowing through the window across my emerald skin.

“Absolutely stunning,” I smirked to myself. “If only those men knew, I could smash their skulls for ogling me. But they never will… none would dare love me. Not that I care…” I yawned. “Got to sleep… find work in the morning… should be easy…”

[ulvrik]

This is really promising muhaha 🤩🤩🤩 looking forward what this will lead

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Two

               “Housekeeping…”

               My eyes shot open at the sound of the soft voice from beyond the door. A chill ran down my spine. Housekeeping already? What time was it? I’d overslept!

               I sprang catlike from the bed and landed upon the wooden floor with a resounding creak – damn it! Shouldn’t have done that. Now the whole inn knew where I was. Unless…

               I crept to the door with utmost care, my naked body flexing effortlessly in total silence, and pressed my ear against its frame. The Innkeep’s maid had not reached my room after all, but was several doors down changing a slopbucket, which I could hear clattering against a rolling dolley. It was music to my ears, for I had ample time to gear-up and slip out the window undetected.

               Or so I thought. No sooner had I fitted my armour to my body and strapped my battleaxe to my belt, I heard the door creak open. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time, for I was hanging halfway out the window already.

               “Ever heard of knocking?” I asked bitterly.

               “Eep!” a diminutive elven maid clasped her hands to her mouth and dashed back into the hall.

               “Hey, hey, come back here you stupid little –” I reached towards her in vain.

               “Thief!” the elf-maid cried. “Thief! She’s chasing me!”

               “Fuck,” I sneered and muttered to myself. “Fine. Run coward. Didn’t wanna tip you anyway.”

               With that, I eased my legs out the window and leapt to the ground below. Damn it all! This had to happen in a crossroads inn in the midst of the woods! I was supposed to find a contract here, not get hunted halfway through the forest! Fuck it, I would not leave this place empty handed. I would find a contract any way I could – and I’d do it without getting caught.

 

               Long story short: I was crouched behind some bushes across from the inn. Things had calmed since the elf-maid incident, but I knew better than to walk back inside. I was the only orc in that place last night, and the innkeeper would surely be looking for me even if he kept my break-in a secret from his customers.

               Damned innkeeper. He could look for me as long as he wanted! As for me, I needed to sit and think of a way to get contracted by one of the customers leaving the inn. The woods here were dark and full of danger, so everyone could do with a mercenary bodyguard to keep them safe from the stray wolf-pack or goblin-gaggle. Any well-off individual would do for me… I just needed to keep my eyes open.

               One by one, I watched people leave and sized them up. The merchant and his wife? No – already called for; they had four bodyguards. The dwarf? His battle-axe was bigger than mine; no doubt he could handle himself. The huntsman? Promising, but he somehow vanished in the blink of an eye, the skinny git. Damn it, this was harder than it was supposed to be!

               But after a long, gruelling wait, a new target came into view: a young dandy of a man, wearing a traveller’s cloak and leather boots that appeared worn and used, yet colourful and tailored to his light frame. A satchel at his side and a lute on his back were the only “weapons” I could see on him – not even a knife to be seen.

               I groaned at the sight of him as he lazily yawned and took his first halting steps down the front steps of the inn, for he was none other than the bard – that ludicrous fop who’d played that infernal music that had got me into this mess. The mere thought of working with him filled me with loathing… which was a good thing. Yes, he would have to do. He was approaching my hiding spot in the bushes even now. Once he was close, I would whisper him closer and –

               Wait, why was he unfurling his codpiece?

               Fuck this, time to grab him.

               Snatching the unsuspecting bard was as easy as a mountain lion catching an idle rabbit. I had my arms snaking around his body and my hand masking his frightful screams before he could even think of relieving himself. I’d wrestled mighty orcs to the ground, and even an ogre or two, so subduing a mere man like him was no effort whatsoever. His six-foot height fit well into my seven-and-half. The girth of my arms were akin to his thighs, which themselves were tightly-snug between my own quads.

               “So you didn’t piss yourself scared,” I whispered as I nestled my chin over his head to hold it firmly in place. “Good. That makes you braver than most – but bravery alone won’t get you through these woods alive, mm?”

               The bard had stopped struggling, but instead tapped a single finger against the top of the hand holding his mouth shut. I obliged him and slid my hand to the nape of his neck.

               “Gods…” his chest swelled against my arms with a full breath.

               “Keep it down,” I said. “The inn is not safe.”

               “It isn’t? Sorry… I mean, why were you hiding in a bush?”

               “Why do you travel alone? Enough questions. What you need is a sellsword like myself to keep a little man like you safe.”

               “Sure,” he tried to nod but couldn’t budge. “Sure. How much?”

               I was going to tell him until I noticed the innkeeper standing on the patio with a bystander – who was pointing in our direction.

               “We’ll discuss that later. We need to get miles between us and this overblown hovel. Follow me into the woods. We’ll use the trees as cover before finding the path again. Your legs better be quick.”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Three

               The bard did indeed have quick feet, though I was sure I could outrun him if I wished. He was before me now, and slightly uphill, hopping from one strip of slender footing to the next. Most would have slipped on muddy leaves or moist ferns by now, but it seemed he was no stranger to the wilds, even if he was a dandy. It was rather amusing in a stupid sort of way. Not all creatures in the woods are meat eaters.

               I’d taken him deep into the woods, avoiding the trails as best I could, for the innkeeper had surely notified the highway patrol of my crime. The land was ruggedly mountainous, and covered with a thick blanket of old fir trees broken only by naked ridges of a range of cragged peaks. It would be picturesque… if only we could see past the tree trunks and hanging moss. Not much longer before we broke the treeline and reached the mountains’ spine. It was the only way to keep from getting lost.

               “You know,” the bard crawled to the top of a round boulder the size of a house and stared back at me. “I never had the chance to thank you for saving me from that place.”

               “You can thank me with coin once we leave this wood,” I growled with as much disdain as I could muster.

               “I wasn’t even aware of any danger!” he replied.

               I didn’t reply, but shuddered instead. It seemed he was prone to rambling. Typical bard. What torture had I gotten myself into this time? Best to remain quiet until his tongue exhausted itself.

               “What’s your name?”

               Fuck, damn it. “…Grulda. Grulda Vax of the Reindeer Clan.”

               “My name is Flynn Featherfleece,” he continued his climb up the mountain as I passed the boulder he’d perched upon.

               “Featherfleece?” I tsked at the sound of it. “Is that a stage name? I thought only dancers had those.”

               “It is too my name,” Flynn insisted. “And I’m not a dancer.”

               “All dancers say that,” I smirked to myself.

               “Well I’m not. And that was uncalled for. I didn’t ask if you ride reindeers, did I?”

               I didn’t reply. For a time, there was a blessed moment of silence between us as we focused on hiking upwards towards the sunlight shining from above us. Alas, it didn’t last.

               “… do you ride reindeers?” he asked as I passed him.

               “No,” I strode onwards, but could feel his breath on my haunches.

               “Not you, I mean… but other orcs.”

               I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Sometimes.”

               Replying was a mistake.

               “I’ve never met an orc before,” Flynn said with a hint of awe and wonder. “I read stories about them growing-up and listened to historical ballads about their battles. The drawings made your kind seem so…”

               “Terrifying?”

               “Well, yes…”

               “How typical.”

               “Terrifyingly beautiful.”

               I nearly slipped. “You said what? What do the tales tell?”

               “Well, I think so.”

               “There is no way your tales describe us as anything better than beasts. We are tribal warriors and sellswords – boar-tusked brutes! We are ugly, and every race thinks so.”

               “I can’t deny it,” Flynn blushed as he cringed at my outburst. “Which is why it’s so stunning how beautiful you are.”

               “You’re lying. Why would you tell me this? You think you can flatter me enough to forget getting paid? You think I’m that stupid, huh?”

               “I could pay you now.”

               “Oh really?”

               “I just want to be around you – with you. You could tell me stories about your contracts. I could write a proper orc song for once.”

               “Hm…” I grumbled. “A song? Really? Like that love song you played at the inn last night?”

               I felt something within me as I remembered the sound of his lute. A light fluttering in my chest between shallow breaths, like a swarm of little butterflies. My frustration with this bard’s pestering chatter had me thoroughly roiled, and his unexpected adoration of me was like a splash of cold water on my face. It was as shocking as a slap to the face or a spank on the rump.

               Then I felt something else: the slow, steady press of my stomach against the front of my belt. I didn’t even have to put a hand to it to know that the lower-abs below my navel had vanished beneath a softening pooch. It was happening again – I was losing control of myself.

               “What’s wrong?” Flynn asked as he reached for my hand.

               “Don’t touch me,” I snapped and turned away. “Enough talk! Songs are for lovers, not warriors!”

               “You look like you need to catch your breath. Want to rest here for a while?”

               He was right. The swelling that had begun under my navel had spread upwards into my fat tits, which pressed hard against my jerkin and kept me from taking long, full breaths. But I couldn’t stop and let him see what he’d done to me. No one could.

               “We march onwards,” I growled and grit my teeth hard enough for the tusks to pierce skin. “And we don’t stop till the sun sets. Move!”

               I took the lead, else he catch sight of my unsightly pudge, and ignored the sound of my leather trousers straining to contain my thighs. It was unlikely he saw anything, and as I continued the climb, the pressure of my body against its confines began to ease.

               Maybe he does find an orc-pig like you to be beautiful, the freak, said a voice in my mind. But if he ever caught sight of your fat self, you’d find he hates you like all the rest of his kind.

               By the time we reached the mountaintop and looked down upon the wilderness below, I was wholly thin again.

[scl04]

Something tells me that this orc will learn the meaning of "relationship weight" and "happy fat" soon enough 😜.

[>_< 0_0]

1 hour ago, scl04 said:

Something tells me that this orc will learn the meaning of "relationship weight" and "happy fat" soon enough 😜.

It’s a love/hate relationship 

[>_< 0_0]

If anyone's curious, the description of Flynn's song is based off of Chega de Saudade by Joao Gilberto (probably my favorite song).

Chapter Four

               I led Flynn across two ranges of mountains before the sun began hanging low under the overcast clouds. There was precious little time before the sun began rusting the sky red and shadows stretching from the mountains across the world, but I worried little, for as wild as these woods could be, I was wilder. I knew every beast that lurked behind every tree, every fruit of every bush, and every mushroom and edible leaf. I could smell fresh springs where they trickled, and knew at a glance the hidden crevice of any bee swarm. These woods were mine as much as it was theirs, and I slept wherever I pleased as its apex predator should.

               Hence, I guided the pestering bard to the mouth of a small cave where we could rest for the night. It was small and narrow, but clean with a fresh stream trickling out from it and trailing down the mountainside into the valley below.

               “A cave?” Flynn warily eyed the darkness within. “Aren’t you afraid of bears? Or trolls?”

               “No such beast could fit in there,” I replied. “Look at the floor: no bones or signs of life. And you think I would be afraid of anything? Ha! If only they were here. Then we’d have something good to eat!”

               “I bought jerky at the inn before we left,” Flynn replied as he opened his satchel. “We could eat that. It’s not much but… I didn’t think I’d be traveling with company.”

               “Jerky,” I loosed my battleaxe from my hip and set it on the ground. “It’s certainly meat… why don’t you fetch me kindling for a fire while I catch a real meal.”

               “Don’t you need your axe for that?” he asked as I turned my back to him.

               “That?” I smirked. “That is for battle. These are for food,” I held my hands out and flexed the calloused fingers for emphasis. “Best get that fire roaring; I’ll return before sundown.”

 

               It wasn’t quite right to say that I loved hunting, for my thighs would be chafing if I truly did. But I did very much enjoy it. The solitude and full embrace of the senses, the sighting of a hare and the way our eyes met, the thrill of the chase, and the satisfaction of snatching its neck just as it thought its burrow would make it safe from my clutches. Truly, it was a fulfilling experience, but nothing more. I would eat well tonight, and tomorrow I would do so as well.

               The hare was in my grip as I ascended from the wood towards the mountain cave. Flynn had made himself useful and had lit the campfire, whose light glowed and flickered warmly against the rocks around it. I continued hiking upwards, quads flexing with the effort as my feet crunched against loose rubble and dirt. The sound of my approach masked any sound from the campfire from my ears until it was too late.

               Flynn was playing the lute.

               “Damn him,” I growled. “Focus Grulda. It’s only music…”

               It was the best music I’d ever heard, so light and melodic it made me slow my pace just to listen more closely. Most bards beat drums and tambourines to the same beat as their lyrics. Not so for Flynn. Somehow – by some unimaginable skill I hadn’t thought possible – he was singing between the chords. Two melodies, vocal and instrumental, combined into a single song.

               My breath caught in my throat as I continued upwards. His song was changing keys, so smoothly I struggled to remember when the change occurred, and as I got close enough to listen properly, I realized suddenly that he wasn’t even singing in Common. He was singing in elvish – elvish! How could a tongue I couldn’t understand stir such feelings? Not a single comprehensive word, and yet I could feel the lovelorn longing in his voice, the bittersweet beauty and sadness.

               That’s when the curse took hold of me once more. I could feel my thighs pressing tight against my leathers, and the ever-increasing roundness of my glutes. I winced at the sensation of my lovehandles budding against my sides and pinching against my belt. The curse was hitting my lower half this time, and I found it growing too fast for me to loosen the strings containing the girth of my legs.

               “Damn it,” I stood there helplessly, watching my hips expand. “Fucking… not now…”

               Flynn didn’t know I was near, playing idly while staring into the flames. The darkness shrouded me and my shame, leaving me alone to deal with my feelings. I could stay standing here. He’d never notice. I could let the curse take hold of me, let myself go for a time and perhaps he would grow tired of singing and fall asleep. He would never know…

               But no. The ass-seam of my leathers was creaking ominously, and I could feel the stitching reaching its limit. One wrong move and the ripping and tearing would be so loud it would awaken every creature in  the valley.

               “Enough with that!” I barked.

               The singing stopped. Good. I didn’t feel like sewing in the morning.

               “Is that you Grulda?” Flynn called out.

               “No, it’s a fat bear,” I replied. “Yes, it’s me! Stop yelling if you don’t want to attract every beast in earshot.”

               “You coming? I can’t see you…”

               “Patience, bard,” I grumbled in place. “You don’t need to see me right now.”

               “Are you…? Oh, I get it! Take your time! I promise I won’t look.”

               The insufferable little man! I nearly corrected him, but chose silence. His mistake suited me. I could feel the pressure against my loins loosening already. A moment more and I’d be able to walk again.

[jimjim0058]

Can’t wait to see where this goes. Love it so far 

[>_< 0_0]

On 11/12/2022 at 9:50 AM, nomercy58 said:

Can’t wait to see where this goes. Love it so far 

Just need to finish a second double shift…

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Five

               Night had fallen, and the clouds cast a sheen of darkness across half the starscape. The only light left was a faint silvery glow from the crescent moon over the treetops and the flickering light of Flynn’s fire. The bard had done well while I’d gone hunting, having dug a pit and lighting a fire before the sun had set and nursing it to a dull roar. He’d even had the sensibility to pile spare kindling nearby, and had set thick logs about the firepit for us to sit upon. I was doing so now, splaying my catch over my right thigh while skinning its hide with my hunting knife. Flynn sat opposite me, eying my progress through the flames as he snacked on his dry, salted jerky. The lute lay against his log out of arms’ reach.

               “Say, Grulda?” he asked as I finished stripping the hare’s hide. “Is it true that orcs fight for their mates?”

               “Their what?” I stared at him with an indignant sniff.

               “Mates… I know it’s an awkward question, but I really must know. There’s a song or two about orc mating rituals, and honestly they sounded far-fetched.”

               “Why?” I smirked without smiling with my eyes. “You think you got what it takes to win my hand in marriage? Gonna fight my brothers in the wrestling ring in front of the whole tribe?”

               Flynn didn’t answer, which was my excuse to return my attention to cooking the hare. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remain silent for long.

               “Grab me a stick, bard. It’s time to roast this meat.”

               “Use this instead,” Flynn said, offering a collapsible metal rod. “It’s been in my satchel for ages. Never thought I’d actually use it…”

               “Figures,” I took the rod and stabbed my hare from arse to mouth with a single thrust and proceeded to hold it over the flames. “A traveling city-dweller with unnecessary trinkets.”

               “Well I am a bard, after all,” he replied with a smile. “I solve my problems with words and song. They say love is the strongest emotion of all.”

               “Love, huh?” I turned the meat in my hands to give its whole surface an equal roasting. “What is love? Most men who mention the word crave a woman’s body.”

               “That’s part of it, yes,” he admitted. “But there’s more to it than that. Family, good food, music…” he smiled as he said the last one. “The world is a beautiful place. What do you think is love, Grulda?”

               “Good question,” I scoffed. “If I knew it would make my life so much easier.”

               “That’s typical. I myself spent years trying to discover what love is.”

               “How typical.”

               “It’s my job to know; how could I sing about love if I didn’t? But learning what love is can be harder than some spells because most people don’t know what true love is.”

               “You still haven’t told me what it is, lover-boy.”

               “It’s a gift.”

               I stared at him through the flames. “Really? A gift? Like a bribe?”

               “No, not a bribe,” he shrugged with a smile. “It’s not what you’re giving that matters, but the reason you give it – and the reason is nothing.”

               “You’re making no sense, bard.”

               “Neither does love. You know…” he reached for the woodpile and set some kindling on the flames that sent sparks flying like butterflies. “We’re such cunning creatures – all the tongue-speaking races: Humans, Orcs, Dwarves, and the like. We build, trade, and fight, and we always have a reason. Every action has a motive, every item has a price, everything planned and measured – except love. Love defies reasoning. When you’re with the one you love, it’s all that matters to you. Others will say you could be with someone better – a nobleman, a merchant, or the like – but you could never do that because you don’t love them.”

               “Right…” I pulled the meat from the flames and eyed its sizzling surface. Nearly done. I’d have to suffer this conversation just a bit longer. “And what if the one you love doesn’t love you in return? What then?”

               Flynn sighed. “That’s the hard part. If I had a coin for everyone I loved but could not have, I’d have enough to buy a horse. But that’s just how it is. But love isn’t coins and love can’t be bought – after all, love is a gift.”

               “Why do I feel like you serenaded some woman’s window before being chased away?”

               Flynn coughed indignantly. “How could you say such a thing? But I guess it’s true…”

               Bemused, I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell. What kind of woman was she? Tall? Rich? Buxom? You seem to be the type that likes bigger women.”

               “A dark elf named Nelphy,” he replied. “I’d seen her at the festival and followed her home –”

               “Oh, you didn’t!” I gasped. “You stalked her?”

               “It wasn’t like that!” he replied. “I was talking to her when she vanished into the crowd. I had to shove past a hundred people just to catch-up with her by then, and… well, she went through the gates of the dark elf embassy and I couldn’t get inside so… I started playing my lute.”

               “The dark elf embassy…” I shook my head. “You mean the Embassy of the Acklades? The elves who declared total war on humanity three times this century? That embassy?”

               “…yes…”

               “How are you still alive?”

               “Luck, probably. The embassy guards tried to pull me inside the gates, and that was when I realized I did not want to go in, else I vanish forever. I was gripping that gate for dear life when the town guard saw what was happening and pulled me back out.”

               “You nearly started another war with that stunt!”

               “Yeah, well, love defies logic and all that. At least I wrote a good song about her.”

               “That dark elf Nelphy probably didn’t like you anyway.”

               “You’re probably right, but I like to think that I’ll find someone who does someday. It’s why I became a bard, actually! Women love a good song.”

               “Not all of them,” I replied, feeling a rumble in my belly I hoped was just hunger.

               “Yes, true, not all of them. But I must try, or I’ll never find my true love. Anyway, I think we’ve talked long enough! Why don’t we start eating that delicious-smelling hare you caught.”

               “We?” I smirked. “I caught this. You snacked on jerky.”

               “Oh…” he looked notably crestfallen. “What if I let you use my fork?”

               “I kid. Would you like breast or thighs?”

               He broke into a grin. “Breast or thighs? I love both those things…”

               “Which one?” I snapped.

               “Thighs! Thighs are good…”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Six

               Few exist in this world who can creep close without disturbing my slumber, much less try, so it was rather shocking when I suddenly realized that Flynn was gone.

               I sensed his absence before my eyes flashed-open: a cool breeze brushed my face and smoke from the ashen firepit filled my nostrils, but as for my ears, they were only filled with the empty echo of wind howling through the valley. The faint snoring of Flynn’s single, unstuffed nostril that had kept me awake for too long was nowhere to be heard.

               “Flynn?” I sprang to my feet. Was he taking a piss? Sightseeing? Practicing his lute?

               No. His lute was leaning against a log, untouched – and my battleaxe that I’d planted in the ground was missing.

               “That damn bard,” I flexed the fingers in my hands with malicious intent. “What trouble have you stumbled into this time? You better not be hurt…”

               I felt the leathers around my arse stretch taut and heard the lace running down my thighs groan. Feelings were sneaking upon me again. I banished them with a mighty punch against the nearest rock.

               “Yeah, you’d best not be hurt,” I told the rock. “Because I’m the only one that can do that. You’ve given me trouble enough.”

               I raised my head from the rock and turned my attention to the cave beyond. A small, narrow cave – yes – with a trickle of water pouring from its dark mouth as well, yet as I looked closer, the dawn’s light revealed more secrets than could be seen in evening shadow. There were tracks in the shallow creek-bed – small, stunted tracks not much bigger than an imp’s. They pitter-pattered in hurried dashes out the cave’s mouth before rushing inside again with deeper, weighted prints. The little creatures had carried the bard upon their shoulders into the cave’s depths – and my axe.

               “Those thieving little rascals,” I growled. “Bet they think me a coward without my weapon, but they certainly have never faced an orc before, for we are weapons. What’s more, we can see in the dark.”

               And so I set forth into the cave’s depths, letting my hands trace it’s edges and corners as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The cave was far wider on the inside than expected, and more habitable. The creek wound about the dark expanse like silvery ink, and all about its banks were littered obvious evidence of use: littered tools and fruit cores, clay sculptures and rags, and piles upon piles of bones etched and scratched upon by sharp little teeth.

               “No dwarf or halfling would dare dwell in a cave so foul,” I muttered softly. “What, then…?”

               My question remained unanswered, yet I did receive an answer of sorts: a faint light from the far side of the cavern, and the sound of dozens of skittering creatures. Even fainter was the sound of Flynn’s voice straining against a gag.

               “At last,” I whispered to myself. “Best tread softly. There’s no telling how many of them there are…”

               I made my way to the glowing entrance, making sure not to silhouette my body against the darkness behind me, and as I slowly leaned my head to peer within, I beheld a most unusual sight.

               Raccoons. Not dwarves or halflings, not even faeries or imps. Raccoons! Sentient raccoons standing upright wielding crude clubs and spears. They skittered about what appeared to be some sort of throne room, laden with trays of gifts and prizes – including my battleaxe and a tightly-bound Flynn – as they approached a stone pile upon which reclined what could only be their queen.

               “A witch,” I seethed the moment my eyes set upon her furred, royal highness. She’d wrapped herself in red silk and wore an assortment of jewelled necklaces and rings, but there was no mistaking the nature of the staff held in her stubby paws. If I attacked now, I would be cursed before I could throw a single punch. I shook my head. One curse was more than enough! Best to wait for a chance for trickery.

               So I watched from afar like a patient mountain lion, and observed their courtly customs. The raccoons would approach their queen one at a time, bestowing offerings great and small in no particular order, receiving praise and adoration in return. It was a quaint display, and I could only guess how they had learned to mimic the ways of other sentient beings, but I didn’t much care. I could see it was nearly time for my stolen axe to be offered, and it had my utmost attention.

               “Thank you so much for the grapes, thank you!” the queen was energetic and buoyant as the latest raccoon hopped happily away.

               “Grapes, grapes!” the raccoons chanted amidst themselves.

               “You got so much loot today, gang!” the queen wagged her staff happily. “I am thrilled. Absolutely ecstatic! We got loot for days!”

               “Queen! Queen!” the raccoons chittered amongst themselves. Some took to dancing. One tripped on Flynn’s face. Hilarious.

               “Loot! Loot!” the racoons cheered.

               “Milkies?” said a quiet voice.

               The queen’s eyes widened. “Ooh, who said that? Who wants milkies? Walnut, was that you? You want milkies, Walnut? You want Mommy-Dommy milkies? C’mere Walnut!”

               A thin young raccoon sprang forward with unbound excitement, his black little arms extended.

               “No horny!” the queen swung her staff upon Walnut’s head. “Bonk!”

               Walnut squeaked with shock as the staff smacked his skull, but no sooner had he begun to reach his hands for his forehead, his body began to shrink. The already-short creature shrivelled shorter-still, until he was no bigger than a mouse.

               The queen snickered as she plucked Walnut from the cold floor and dangled him between her fingers.

               “He got the Bonk!” said a raccoon.

               “Bonk!” echoed the reply.

               “Eff!” echoed another reply. “Eff!”

               “You miss them, don’t you gang?” said the queen. “You miss me being big? You want me to take my giant, Mommy-Dommy form again, gang?”

               The raccoons bounced excitedly in response.

               “Well, you have to be patient, then. Being big is for very special occasions… is today a special occasion?”

               “Yes, yes!”

               “Oh, we shall see! What’s the next gift?”

               Another raccoon scurried forth with my battleaxe in its paws. “Look, Queen, look!”

               “Pebble!” the Queen took the axe in hand and raised it high. “Thanks you so much for the battleaxe, Pebble! Oh, I love it! Look, gang! It’s so shiny and sharp!”

               “Bonk stick!” they cried. “Bonk stick!”

               “But what’s this?” the queen pointed the axe at Flynn, bound and gagged before her. “We haven’t talked about the human yet. Who is he, gang?”

               “Someone!” a raccoon guessed.

               “King?” said another.

               “King?” the queen gasped. “Ha! You’re very funny, gang! You think he’s just like me, don’t you? He says lots of words? Big words?

               “Big brain!” the raccoons replied. “Big!”

               “I know what you’re doing, gang,” the queen smirked knowingly. “You want us to be a matching couple.”

               The raccoons tittered and rubbed their hands with anticipation.

               “Sounds like a plan to me!” said the queen. “Psych! I’m gonna shrink him! Stand back! Prepare for bonk! Ready… aaannnnd…”

               I’d seen enough. The queen could wield magic, but only by direct contact. It was time to emerge.

“Hold it right there!”

               A collective gasp sounded from a hundred gaping mouths as they gazed in shock and awe of my muscled seven-foot frame. So frightened were some that I heard weapons clatter upon the floor.

               “Bonk!” screeched the queen.

               The queen’s magical staff struck Flynn’s ribcage with a loud thump. Flynn yelled through his gag hard enough for me to hear it from across the room. Only then did the queen set her gaze upon me.

               “Um, gang?” she asked. “Who is that?”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Seven

               “Who am I?” I held my hips. “Me? I’m your worst nightmare if you don’t give me back my axe!”

               The racoons panicked as I strode into their midst, tripping on all fours as they attempted to hide behind their witch-queen. They’d abandoned Flynn in their haste, though he was still bound and gagged upon the cave floor as he writhed against the influence of the queen’s curse.

               It seemed the queen was the only one not frightened by my looming presence. She stared upwards into my glaring eyes with keen interest and perhaps even excitement.

               “Ooh, she’s massive,” said the queen. “Is this the one who was too heavy to carry inside? How did she find us? Pompom, I thought you said you covered your tracks by walking through the stream?”

               I smirked, for they were more careless than I imagined. This would be an easy fight. “Such a small stream cannot wash away so many paw prints – and such a small folk as yours has no hope against me.”

               “You think? Ha!” the queen arched her back and laughed at the cave’s roof. “You must’ve never heard of us. I am Milfy, Queen of the Trash Gang, and this is my trash cave – I take all the trash! Welcome to my trash cave.”

               “And I am Grulda Vax of the Reindeer Clan, firstborn daughter of Uldun,” I replied with a menacing step forward. “I won’t ask nicely: give me my axe, or I will skin your hide – oh, and the bard too. He owes me.”

               “The bard?” asked Milfy. “You mean him? That human wriggling on the ground? He’s gonna be my king! Can’t you see? He’s shrinking already! Soon he’ll be my size!”

               I looked down to behold him and found her words to be true. Flynn was shrinking, and quite rapidly. It seemed the curse affected his clothes and binds as well, leaving him just as helpless to escape as ever. He eyed me with wide, panicked eyes as he tried to scream through his gag, but to no avail. He’d lost half his size to the curse already.

               “Change him back,” I turned to the witch-queen again.

               “Um, how ‘bout we bargain?”

               The sheer audacity of this scavenger! I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. “Bargain? You have a moment: speak.”

               “You’re a mercenary, right? You look like one.”

               “I am.”

               “Then you must’ve been protecting this bard! How about I give you his coinpurse? Pebble! Fetch the coinpurse!”

               The raccoon known as Pebble emerged from the cowering crowd with a weighty sack between his paws. When he dropped it next to Milfy’s feet, the top loosed just enough for me to catch sight of a pile of glittering silver discs: my payment and much more. The bard was richer than even I had expected.

               “So what do you think?” asked the queen. “I’ll even give you your axe back too! You’ll get paid and I’ll have a king! It’s the best deal.”

               Flynn was thrashing wildly now, though he was merely two feet tall. The man was as helpless as a cat in a bag. I could abandon him to his fate, be done with his endless questions and lute-plucking, and have enough coin to purchase an entire new armour set. It was everything I wanted. It was everything I told myself I wanted…

               Except…

               Except it wasn’t. There was something about the situation that kept me from accepting the deal. I was no stranger to ruthlessness. I had betrayed accomplices when opportunity had struck before; such was the nature of sellsword’s profession. Too many times I had been attached to raiding parties where distrust was so strong that I was merely the first to betray the group. To take this deal now would be no different, save for a small, lingering doubt – a doubt borne out of pity as I looked upon the raccoon-sized bard. His body had been cursed to become a shadow of its former self, just like mine. For that, I couldn’t leave him to such a cruel fate. My heart couldn’t bear it.

               “I cannot,” I sighed.

               “Oh?” Milfy’s attention was primed more than ever before. “So you do care about him! You have feelings for each other? Oh, that is so adorable!”

               “No, not feelings,” I insisted as I supressed my feelings. “But duty. An obligation. I don’t expect the likes of you to understand.”

               “Well then…” Milfy strummed her fingers against her staff. “Looks like we’ll have to wrestle for it – winner keeps all! Someone hold my staff…”

               “Wrestling?” I raised an eyebrow as the raccoons cheered. “Against you? Without your magic staff?”

               “Yeah!” Milfy replied. “I’ve never wrestled an orc before… what, you scared?”

               “Terrified,” I smiled. “Terrified I’ll smother your face between my thighs.”

               “Ooh, I hope you try! But first… I think this counts as a special occasion – right gang?”

               The raccoons hopped and cheered, shaking their weapons in the air.

               “Milkies!” they cried. “Milkies!”

               “It’s Mommy-Dommy time!” said the queen.

               And as I watched, dumbfounded, the little raccoon queen began to grow.

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Eight

               “Ooh, I forgot how much fun this is!” the raccoon queen flexed side to side as her body grew in size. “I think it’s been a two seasons since I was this big – but I can’t do it all the time. I spoil my trash gang too much as it is.”

               I dared not reply, or even move. This transformation Queen Milfy was undertaking was dangerously rapid, and I could only guess where it would end. Damned magic wielders and their mystic ways! Cheats and deceivers the lot of them! It was all I could do to wait and see what final form of hers I would be wrestling.

               Milfy’s body stretched longer and taller. Her stubby hind legs emerged from her red, silk toga, and their paws reformed into feet. Her forelegs became forearms, slender yet firmly-coiled with muscle. And her face… her face was more human with beat of my pounding heart. Gone was the narrow maw and furry face of a beast, replaced instead with the full, smirking lips and smooth skin of a youthful human girl. Well… mostly human. The clever golden eyes still stared at me from within a masklike stripe of black skin, and her bestial, pointed ears pricked upwards from a bob of straight, black hair. The fluffy raccoon tail remained as well, swishing behind her like a dog’s.

               “So what do you think?” Queen Milfy stood amidst her gawking minions like a horse in a herd of sheep. “Bet you’re shaking – I’m huge now!”

               “Impressive,” I replied. “But I’m still two heads taller than you…”

               “Wait, wait!” Milfy held a hand out with the other on her chest. “I almost forgot…”

               Milfy inhaled deeply, and her chest swelled with such force, it sent the nearest raccoons reeling with shock. Two mighty breasts surged into view from the confines of her toga, straining its fabric with their weight and size.

               “By heaven and hell,” I gawked at the wobbling surfaces of her mammaries. “They’re bigger than mine. Why? Why do this to yourself?”

               “You know, for someone so intelligent-looking, you don’t seem to have a clue what a woman looks like,” Milfy huffed with her hands on her hips – which broadened and fattened-up to rival the width of my own. Her indignation appeared to be a show for her adoring creatures, for she broke into fits of giggling. “My hips! Gang, my hips! They don’t fit in my outfit anymore.”

               “Wouldn’t a stronger form be more appropriate?” I asked. “With such a plump shape as yours, I could grip you in my arms and squeeze the breath out of you. I could sit on you and still win the fight.”

               “Ooh yes! I am so ready for this!” Milfy squealed and clapped her hands. “We’re doing this right now. Everyone get in a circle and watch! Whiskers, you’re the referee now!”

               I eyed the raccoons surrounding us with a healthy amount of caution. I’d fought swarms of small creatures before, and knew they could be deceptively hard to escape from. These little creatures, however, could barely grasp their weapons properly. I would be fine… but Flynn…

               Flynn was still wrapped tighter than a rustled calf, and helplessly small. Worst case scenario would require me to carry him through a line of raccoons like a pigskin in a game of rugby. Well… could be worse. He’d do more harm if he could actually move.

               “Um, what are you doing?” Milfy was standing before me, her head barely reaching the crest of my breasts. “I thought you were gonna pin me?”

               I shook my head. “Whatever you say, Trash Queen…”

               I reached-out and gripped her upper arms before slamming her to the ground. The raccoons cheered at the brutal sight. In hindsight, this should’ve warned me to be more cautious, but in the heat of the moment, I was elated by my early triumph. The raccoon-girl was lying upon the cavern floor, pinned between the bulk of my bulging thighs and weighted-down by my body sitting upon her pelvis. She was mine to do with as I pleased.

               And yet, for some reason, she was smiling at me. “That’s it?”

               “You’d best hope so, else I hurt your pretty face,” I replied as I gripped her wrists and leaned close to her. “Do you yield?”

               She squirmed a bit and bit her lip with a sharp canine. “Question: ever tried it at the bottom?”

               “What?”

               Then I realized too late that she wasn’t squirming – she was positioning. I felt her right leg snaking itself around mine. Her hands gripped tight against my thighs. Damn it, she was going to throw me!

               Too late, I braced myself even as her arms shot into position against my wrist and front. The raccoons hopped and cheered with anticipation of the final move: Milfy thrust her pelvis against mine with the force of a lioness. Suddenly I was tumbling, flipping onto my back and felt the back of my head smack the ground. The raccoon queen was mounted upon me, straddling me like I was her personal horse.

               “The hell…?” I grunted and attempted to force myself free. No luck. Milfy’s arms were locked against mine, and her thighs pressed tightly against my own. I was helpless!

               “Yes! Squirm, my pet!” she cackled. “Big people are always so bad at wrestling because they try to win with their muscles instead of their brain. Ah, this is too much fun!”

               “This fight – umph – isn’t over,” I replied, straining every muscle in my body to free myself.

               Milfy merely chuckled and let herself lean against my torso. “I love this. I hardly have an excuse to be this big.”

               “’Big’ is an – hmph – exaggeration…”

               “I can get bigger,” she replied. I felt the girth of her thighs press harder against my sides as they thickened, and saw her already massive breasts bulge against my own. “You like that? Your little friend is so lucky he’s going to be my king.”

               “No!” I gasped, nearly exhausted. “He can’t – won’t!”

               “Why’s that? You think I’m not sexy enough? You think I should be more curvaceous? Voluptuous? He’s gonna love these milkers.”

               “No…” I groaned. “Because love… is a gift…”

               The fight was taxing my spirit like few others ever had. I’d faced death like this before, and had even had worse odds against me. I’d always overcome them one way or another, for I was quick, strong, and cunning. But this fight was different. This was a fight about love, and now that I’d said the word, the stakes were clear in my mind. Emotions had been unleashed within me, and I was helpless to stop them.

               And so, as Milfy’s breasts pressed against mine with every breath, I felt my own rise to meet them, and felt myself begin to swell and expand.

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Nine

               It started around my hips, a slight but building pressure against my loins as every fold and crease in my leathers was smoothed and filled. Soft, malleable colonies of fat were taking hold against my pelvic bones, unwelcome bulges that swelled and spread across my perfect musculature like conquering armies. They wrapped themselves behind me in a sneak attack on my unguarded ass, joining forces and gathering strength before subduing my thighs. Mighty, flexing quads were choked and strangled beneath a smooth blanket of fat, deceptively-soft but ever-growing, challenging the leather confines that contained their expanding bulk…

               Damn it all, this was all so stupid! Here I was, thinking that battlefield analogies would distract me from the lovey-dovey feelings that had triggered this curse, when what I should be doing was figuring-out how to free myself from the Raccoon Queen’s grip! She was still mounted upon me, no bigger than a large dog, and yet I was powerless to wriggle-free from between her chunky thighs or even loose my wrists from her little hands. Damn magic-wielders! Cheaters the lot of them! If I couldn’t get myself out of this situation soon, my leathers would tear!

               “Aw, that’s so sweet!” Queen Milfy tittered and let her head rest atop my bosom. “Love is a gift, you say? I’d never heard it put that way. So the secret to your friend’s heart is gifts, then? I can be his gift. Look! I’m all wrapped-up already! All he has to do is unwrap me – wait, what are you doing?”

               I was doing nothing, save listen to her rantings about love while trying not to listen too closely. My body, however, had a mind of its own. The flesh of my already-large breasts had been swelling like ripening fruits right under our noses, and as the two of us finally noticed their expansion, they jostled softly against each other as if alive. They pressed hard against the knot holding them in, until –

               I heard something rip, but the knot was still in place. Fuck! I’d have to find that tear later…

               “A shapeshifter!” Milfy gasped.

               “Shapeshifter!” cried the onlooking raccoons. “Wow, shapeshifter!”

               Milfy released me from her grip and scrambled back like the startled animal she still partially was. “You didn’t tell me you were a shapeshifter too!”

               The whole situation had changed so rapidly, I could scarcely think of a reply. I remained on the cold cavern floor for a moment, gathering my thoughts before sitting-up.

               “Oh yes,” I smirked as I rose to my feet. “I am indeed a mighty –”

               Rip.

               “—shapeshifter,” fuck me, I could feel cold air on my ass. Had to focus… “Ahem. A mighty, powerful shapeshifter, and if you don’t give me my things back, I will transform into something so big and – and strong,” I huffed angrily, for my arse cheeks had decided to swell through the ever-widening tear they’d made.

               “Horse?” asked some stupid raccoon.

               “No,” I snapped. “Not horse. A… dragon – giant green dragon!”

               The raccoons gasped and whispered amongst themselves. “A dragon…”

               “Oh, my gods and goddesses!” Milfy lay prostrate before me with awe and wonder in her voice. “That is so cool! I never met another shapeshifter before!”

               “Yes, well… my time is short,” I replied as my still-flat belly rumbled ominously. “So if you could just give me my axe and that… thing over there,” I gestured to halfling-sized Flynn, who squirmed against his binds like a maggot.

               “Sure, of course I will! Skippy! Fetch the axe!”

               “Oh, and perhaps undo the shrinking curse you put on him?”

               “Well… about that…” Milfy thrummed her fingertips against each other nervously. “I’m not exactly sure how to do that…”

               Flynn’s muffled screaming was loud enough to gain the attention of half the raccoons in the crowd and even made me raise an eyebrow. What a pathetic little man. I could feel my body’s expansion slowing already.

               “You what?” I asked.

               “It should wear off… eventually,” she clasped her hands and grovelled at my feet. “Please teach me your ways! I always wanted to be a dragon! Dragons can fly and spit fire and own mountains of shiny things! I love shiny things…”

               “We’ll talk later,” I shrugged. “In the meantime, get me a sewing needle. I need to fix these clothes and…” I glanced at Flynn and sighed. “Think about stuff.”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Ten

               “So when are you gonna show me how to turn into a dragon?”

               I looked-up from my sewing work and found the Raccoon Queen staring at me like a pet waiting to be fed.

               I sighed. “You’re so persistent with all these prodding questions,” I said. “Can’t you see that I’m busy sewing my garments back together? I’m half naked here.”

               “How’s the sewing needle?” she asked.

               “Fine, thanks,” I replied. “And this throne. It’s warmer than the ground, but only slightly.”

               Milfy thrummed her fingers against each other, gathering her thoughts before speaking again. “So when would be a good time to talk about it?”

               I looked at her and pondered my next move. For someone who could change size and effortlessly pin a seasoned orc warrior to the floor, she was behaving more like harmless kitten than a mysterious cult leader of an equally mysterious pack of sentient raccoons. That inhuman strength of hers was what kept me from simply striding out the cave with miniaturized Flynn across my shoulder – that and being nearly naked. Seemed like I’d have to use my wits.

               I glanced past Milfy at Flynn to check if he was alright. The raccoons had untied him and were gathered about him curiously. He was so short now, I’d have never spotted him if not for the tip of his hunter’s cap poking from the midst of them. He’d be too distracted to hear me… good.

               “Ma’am? Uh… Queen Milfy?” I said with hushed tones.

               “Yes?” her pointed ears twitched eagerly. “What is it? ‘Milfy’s’ fine by the way.”

               I summoned her with a motion of my finger and leaned close. We were inches from each other now, and she was resting her hands on my kneecaps as her tail swished back and forth. Detestable behaviour! Did she have no sense of personal space? But I ignored the slight and whispered into her ear.

               “You want to know how to turn into a dragon, huh? A giant flying lizard that breathes fire and sleeps on mounds of loot?”

               “Yes, yes! Tell me! Ohh, I’m so ready for this!”

               “Well, the thing is… how do I put this? I’d like to know how to not turn into a dragon.”

               “Wait, what you mean?”

               “Hush! I don’t want him hearing,” I gestured in Flynn’s direction. “It’s just embarrassing.”

               Milfy gasped. “You don’t mean… cursed? You’re cursed?”

               “Yes,” I let her say the lie for me. “When I get… moody, I turn into a big fat – uh, enormous dragon. I hate it.”

               “That’s so terrible!”

               “Quite. You seem to know your way around size magic – at least the shrinking aspect of it. Perhaps you could undo the curse on me?”

               Milfy tapped her chin in thought with one hand while running her fingers across my thigh with the other. She was perfectly-positioned for a well-aimed kick that would fling her against the wall, but I resisted the temptation. Perhaps she could cure me, however slight the chance was. Best to sit and let her ponder my naked, cursed flesh.

               “I’ve never seen a dragon curse before,” she tapped my abs as if she were trying to goad the curse to life. “How did you get the curse? Are you like a werewolf? A were-dragon? Did a dragon bite you?”

               “A witch like you did it.”

               “Me? A witch? I wish, but no. I just learned a trick or two.”

               “I see.”

               “What mood triggers it? Hate? Anger?”

               “Love,” I replied before thinking carefully.

               Milfy gasped. “You mean… you and him…?”

               “No, not like that,” I glanced away. “We’re not together or anything.”

               “But you have feelings for him?”

               “No, I don’t!” I felt my face growing hot. “And keep your voice down!”

               “Really?” Milfy rubbed her hand across my abs. “Are you sure? I kinda want to see you turn into a dragon.”

               “I assure you,” I snarled. “That you don’t want to wake this dragon – and I also assure you that I don’t know what kind of ‘love’ triggered that latest episode. If I did, it would never happen again.”

               “So you don’t feel any love right now?”

               “I feel impatient. Can you fix it or not?”

               “Me? I can’t… I only know a couple spells.”

               “Then who taught you? What witch sired you? I could ask them for help.”

               “See, that’s the thing. I never had a teacher. I was just joking around with some of my friends and we found a spellbook and started messing around with it.”

               “Did you now? That explains much. Where are your friends and which one has that spellbook?”

               “We haven’t seen each other since last summer… sort of got into trouble with some locals and had to bounce out of town. But there’s a chance one of us might be in our old hiding spot? Or, at least, the spellbook…”

               “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

               Milfy smiled. “Of course! Anything for my were-dragon! Anything. What you’re looking for is in the cellar of a tavern known as the Nightowl in the town of Bruxton. Tell the owner Milfy sent you…”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Eleven

               When I’d finished my sewing, I emerged from the cave’s mouth and found it to be noon. Eight hours of daylight left; just enough time to follow the spine of the mountain range to Eagle’s Perch, its highest point. That would put me within sight of the flickering lights of Bruxton – assuming I wasn’t matching pace with a man whose legs were twelve inches long.

               I glanced down at the diminutive bard as he tried to match my pace and couldn’t help but feel resentment. He was starting to become more trouble than he was worth. First he shrinks to the size of a raccoon and now I had to sling his lute over my shoulder? Pathetic sort. But then again, there were worse moods to be in.

               “How much farther?” he grunted as he climbed rocks I’d easily skipped upon moments before.

               “Look ahead,” I tilted my head sideways and upwards. “See that peak just beyond the next? Eagle’s Perch. That will mark the halfway point to Bruxton.”

               “Halfway?” Flynn wheezed as he scrambled to my side. “Only halfway? I’m starting to get why halflings prefer staying home in quiet comfort.”

               “And I’m starting to get why I find them annoying,” I snapped.

               “Nice… good one,” Flynn got to his feet and dusted himself. He paused to catch his breath and lay his hand against my calf. “Hey so… I’ve been thinking.”

               “About?”

               “About the curse you mentioned. I didn’t see much in that cave while I was tied-up, but I heard everything. So you’re like a were-dragon or something?”

               “That’s what I’d said in the cave, yes.”

               “Right. Well, suppose we triggered it? Dragons have wings, so I could ride your back and you could fly us over these mountains in no time.”

               Damn this bard and his clever little head! Triggering my curse was the last thing I wanted. If only I were a were-dragon. “And how exactly do you expect to trigger my transformation?” I smirked and leapt upon a tall outcropping.

               “With passionate love, of course!”

               “You better be joking.”

               “No, not sex,” he insisted. “I’m uh… not at my best right now, on account of being smaller than most dwarves…. uh, can you lift me up there? I can’t jump that high.”

               I sighed and reached down for his outstretched arms. “Only if you promise not to mention sex again.”

               “I told you already: not sex,” he insisted and chased after my feet. “Sex is not love! Any bar wench can tell you that.”

               “Did they tell you?” I let the corner of my mouth turn into a smile.

               “Ouch,” he replied. “I’m starting to think you might hate me.”

               “A little,” I said with a grunt as I hopped a shallow crevice. “Which is precisely why you wouldn’t be able to rouse romantic thoughts in me.”

               “I’m keen to try,” he insisted with a longer grunt as he vaulted the crevice. “There are other things you could fall in love with.”

               “Like what?”

               “Music.”

               I felt my face redden. Flynn had a point, for once. His lute had been slapping against the small of my back all day. Except… “Wouldn’t you need your lute for that?” I smirked with a hand on the lute’s throat. “This thing is taller than you now; you’d struggle to even hold chords and strum at once.”

               “Only the low notes,” he mused. “I could play a high-pitched ditty.”

               “Romantic, I’m sure,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter because I spent all morning mending these clothes and will not let them rip again so soon – and if you think I’ll be stripping buff-ass-naked so you can try to pluck a high-noted melody and woo my heart, you’re as foolish as you are short.”

               “Well,” he blushed and shuffled a single foot as I looked back at him. “Maybe I could still ride you.”

               I blinked. “E-excuse me?”

               “I could sit on your shoulders,” he replied quietly. “We’d go much faster. I promise I’m not heavy…”

               I looked down at Flynn, staring up at me with hopeful, glittering eyes. I could see that the idea of riding me like some massive two-legged horse was exciting to him, and it wasn’t hard to imagine why. I was a muscular orc warrior that could crush melons between thighs or biceps, and him being barely an eighth my height could only add to the sense of awe and wonder. And he thought to ask me, a mighty orc, for a piggyback ride? I loathed to think of it, even if it did make sense… but one glance back at the miles of cragged, rocky peaks we had yet to tread was all it took to convince me.

               So I sighed and knelt to one knee. “Fine. You have a point. Climb on and make sure you’ve got a good grip.

               I felt his boots digging into my back, the way their soles gripped against the leather wrapped around my torso. His hands reached my shoulders with surprising agility and, with a quick twist of his own body, he vaulted his right leg over me like I were some horse. The left leg followed soon after.

               “Ready,” he said. I felt his thighs flex against my neck.

               “You better not pull my braids,” I grumbled as I rose to my feet. “Or I’ll toss you off this – ouch! What did I say?”

               “Too fast!” he yelped.

               “Listen…” I took a deep breath and took hold of his ankles. “Keep your hands pressed to my head – not the braids.”

               “Um, yes…”

               “Or ears!”

               I felt his hands on my temples, small and weak like cats’ paws. So undignified… and yet strangely comforting. The slight pressure of his palms was making the muscles relax underneath. Somewhat therapeutic. The weight of his body around my shoulders had a similar effect, though I knew that wouldn’t last till sunset. Weight was weight, after all, whether it was a pack, satchel, or small man.

               “Right,” I shrugged him into place. “Now are you ready?”

               “Now I am.”

               “Good. Let’s hope your shrinking curse wears off soon. Time to set out.”

[Batman76]

Only on chapter one so far, but it's a doozy already!

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Twelve

               Flynn suggesting he ride me was in fact his most useful idea since I’d met him, though I would never tell him. Since he’d first mounted my shoulders, my pace had quickened threefold as I no longer had to match his, and we reached the summit of Eagle’s Perch just as the sun reached the horizon. The forested valley beyond it stretched before us like a wolf’s pelt, laced with countless rivers converging upon a dark tangle of buildings on the far end of the valley shaded beneath the shadows of massive cliffs: Bruxton.

               I squinted at my distant objective to glean what few details I could from such a distance. I’d never been to Bruxton, but it looked like a fair-sized town – big enough to be walled, but not big enough for its own castle. A waterfall was pouring into the town from the cliff’s edge. Something big was built around it… a shrine? Temple, perhaps? It was hard to tell with the haze of so much smoke drifting about the town. Every window in the city was beginning to flicker with the lights of a thousand flames.

               “So that’s Bruxton,” Flynn leaned his small head upon my own, no doubt for a closer look of his own. “I’ve never been there. Do you think there’s more orcs there?”

               “Doubtful,” I sniffed. “Orcs prefer the wilds to city dwelling. Look at woods around the walls – see how they grow close to it? That gives away exactly who lives there.”

               “Elves?” Flynn asked. “Elves like woods.”

               “Elves don’t live this far north. It’s a dwarven city. See how the cliff-face is starting to glitter? That’s the shafts of their mines. This is a mining hub – a prime place for plunder.”

               “Well then,” Flynn shifted his legs about my neck uncomfortably. “I guess I’ll fit right in.”

               “We’ll camp here,” I sighed with a shrug. “Gods know my shoulders need a break holding a man all day long. Be a good boy and fetch me some kindling when I put you down…”

 

               The fire was flickering warmly by the time the stars filled the night sky. I’d caught a hare for us to roast while Flynn had fetched for wood, and I had the meat skewered and sizzling upon a stick as I twisted it over the flames. In spite of all our troubles, we would eat well tonight.

               “I wish I help somehow,” Flynn sat beside me on a flat stone with his legs dangling off the edge.

               “No need,” I replied smoothly. “Your coin will be more than enough for my needs. Soon as we’re inside the walls, you’ll hand me my payment and we’ll part ways at last.”

               “Oh…” Flynn dipped his head. “I was actually hoping to spend more time with you. It’s not every day one gets to be with an orc like you.”

               “What of it?” I snorted. “You’ll meet more orcs in life.”

               “None of them will be like you.”

               I didn’t answer, opting instead to lean down to grab a stick and toss it into the fire. The movement made me wince, for my back was stiff and full of knots.

               “What’s wrong?” he asked.

               “It’s nothing,” I grimaced and tried to twist myself left and right to pop my spine. “Just a whole lot of soreness from carrying you everywhere…”

               “Sorry about that,” he replied. “But actually, I happen to know how to fix it.”

               “Oh, do you now?” I chuckled. “How would you know a thing about a sore back when you’ve never had one in your life, huh?”

               “Hold still for a bit,” he scrambled from the stone’s edge and walked behind me.

               “What are you doing?” I stiffened. “Why are you behind me?”

               “Well, first of all, you need to relax,” he said. “Your back is stiff because the muscles inside are tight. Now then, I’m going to put my hand against you… you feel it?”

               “I can feel it, yes,” I grumbled.

               “What did I say about relaxing? Take a deep breath and let it out.”

               “I could toss you over the fire; that would be relaxing.”

               “Grulda, you carried me all day on your shoulders and this is the only way I know how to repay you. Could you let me do this? One favour before we part ways forever?”

               “Very well,” I inhaled deeply and sighed slowly. “I wasn’t actually going to throw you.”

               “I’m going to move my hand over your back – like this,” he did so, slowly tracing upwards. My back muscles were coiled-tight about each other like fabric, tethered to every bone like ropes on a slave-galley, and bulged strongly outwards like the rolling hills in the valley below. I could feel his hand rubbing gently over them, and to my surprise, the mighty muscles of my body were sensitive and tender.

               “So many kinks…” Flynn muttered, his head just behind mine. “Like pebbles under the skin… when was the last time you stretched?”

               “I don’t stretch,” I replied. “Stretching doesn’t – ahh – what are you doing back there?”

               “I’m pushing my thumb into this kink,” he replied. “This will force the muscles underneath to relax… does it hurt?”

               “No,” I lied. “You’re too small to – hff – hurt me.”

               “Just slow and steady… this will take a while.”

               So it went with me trying to roast a skinned hare with a miniature bard digging his fingertips into my skin. For such a small man, his hands were surprisingly firm. They probed every inch of my back, searching for those hidden kinks they were so fond of. No sooner had they found one, they pressed and squeezed with a strength that made me gasp more than once. It was painful, and yet it felt good, for once the pain was gone, my body felt looser. I could breathe deeper, and move my limbs like they were streams of water.

               “Why don’t you put the meat down?” he asked. “That hare is roasted well enough.”

               “Why don’t I?” I replied, though I did so, for he was right.

               “Now you can lift your arms.”

               There was nothing else to do, so I did so out of curiosity. “What trickery are you planning this time, bard? You’ve touched every muscle your grubby fingers can reach.”

               “There’s more of them,” he replied. “Now that the muscles on top are loose, I can reach the ones underneath.”

               I sighed and did as he asked, waiting to feel his hands discover kinks I’d never known I had. He didn’t disappoint – no sooner had I lifted my arms, my shoulder blades shifted upwards, revealing the deepest, most hidden kinks yet.

               “Muscles coat your body like armour,” he explained as I did my best to keep from moaning. “You have to soften the biggest ones on top to reach the smaller ones underneath. These are the ones that matter the most – little threads of pain balled within bigger muscles of pain in an attempt to hide them away from the world. After a time, you forget the pain even exists. You get used to the stiffness.”

               “That’s a lot of words,” I replied. “How did you learn all this?”

               “I didn’t,” he replied. “But I do have a vivid imagination. You see, I feel the pain in my back every day. I can’t reach it, but it gives me an idea of where others’ pain is. My back hurts right here,” he pushed his thumb under my left shoulder blade until it pressed against a thin, tender muscle no bigger than a thin rope. “For years it’s been like this, and no matter what I do, I can’t make it better… but I can fix yours.”

               “Nice,” I closed my eyes as I felt the pain melt away. “Very clever.”

               “You could say it’s a gift.”

               My eyes flashed open. “You cunning bastard!” I sprang to my feet and faced him.

               “What’s wrong?” he asked.

               Despite my best efforts, a chuckle escaped my lips. “All that pretty talk wasn’t about muscles, was it?”

               “It was, but also not,” he shuffled his feet nervously.

               “Damned poets and their double-meanings,” I rolled my eyes. “So you thought to woo me with your soft words? Sought to seduce me talking in riddles about love? That’s what you were trying to tell me, wasn’t it? That you, a little human bard with no fighting prowess, loves me, an orc mercenary?”

               “Yes…” he muttered.

               I couldn’t help but boom with laughter. “And you thought I’d be too stupid to not notice your trickery – ha! Sorry bard, but you still owe me protection money for the journey – and between you and me, I’m not sure what you could possibly find attractive with a boar-tusked, bloodthirsty type like me.”

               “I like the boar-tusks…”

               “Oh, sure you do. And I bet you love the green skin and dirty brown braids too. How romantic of you.”

               “They’re all nice,” he replied. “But I like you most of all.”

               “Me? What about me? My personality? Now I know that you’re lying because I’ve done nothing but talk down to you the entire journey. What could you possibly admire about that, hm?”

               “It’s not that either,” he said. “It’s what you did in the cave – back when you fought the Raccoon Queen. I couldn’t see well, but I heard every word. When you were fighting her to save me, you told her that she couldn’t keep me because love is a gift. It triggered your curse – but I wouldn’t call it a curse.”

               “Wait, what are you saying?”

               “Grulda, I don’t care what you look like. I don’t care if you’re a giant orc or a massive dragon. I just want you to feel love again – like back in the cave! Please, Grulda, you have to believe me!”

               “A likely story,” I said coldly. “But you’d sing a different tune if you saw my other form. Besides, that time in the cave? That brief moment of love? It wasn’t triggered by you.”

               “It wasn’t?”

               “Not at all!” I blushed slightly, but ignored the feeling. “It was the Raccoon-Queen all along! Wrestling sure does stir strong emotions in a woman… all the rolling-around and squeezing… yeah. I’d never feel that with someone as small as you.”

               “I see…”

               “Whatever. Whatever! Let’s eat before the meat gets cold. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can sleep and forget this conversation ever happened…”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Thirteen

               Sleep. A mysterious, magical state. Sometimes filled with dreams, sometimes not, and sometimes filled with indescribable visions that vanished from memory like vapours in a clenched fist. Sleep. Sweet, precious sleep. I was asleep and I didn’t want to wake – not yet. Not while I was in the midst of the most interesting of strange visions…

               This vision… I wasn’t yet sure if it was a dream or a nightmare. I found myself bound to a mighty tree by the most enormous snake I’d ever seen. The limbless beast was wrapped about my waist tighter than an arm bracelet, and my arms were pinned to my sides as well. A part of me was angered by my own helplessness, but there was no hurry to struggle free. There was a pleasant breeze blowing against my skin, and the sun shone warmly from above.

               The snake moved slowly, lazily bobbing its little head before my heaving chest. “Grulda,” it hissed in a low, snore-like voice.

               I stiffened, awaiting the snake’s next move. Snakes were tricky, deceptive creatures. Some were biters, others squeezers, and it was any guess what they might do. This one had a small head, which was promising. Small-headed snakes were usually not venomous.

               “Grulda…” the snake wheezed. “Help…”

               The snake brought itself close to me, burrowing its tiny head under my leather vest. I gasped at the sensation, feeling its body under my clothes as it slid slowly upwards, stretching its jaw against the fabric until I felt it nuzzling the underside of my left breast. It’s mouth stretched wide – and wider still – until at last it found the soft tip of my nipple and squeezed it in a massive bite.

               I gasped again as I felt it nibble softly with its thin tongue tickling me. The snake wasn’t hurting me, but the way it was trying to swallow as much of my melon-sized tit as it could was unlike anything I’d imagined feeling. It was pleasant – erotic, even – and trapped as I was, I didn’t mind its efforts. Yes, this was a good dream after all.

               It was twisting itself as it squeezed now. I could feel its neck brushing back and forth as it rustled within my vest. I felt my nipples harden at its touch. I knew what was happening wasn’t normal, but it didn’t matter. I was dreaming, and it all felt so good. There was still a part of me that balked at the sensation of my stimulated tits beginning to swell alongside my pleasure, but I was too tired to care. I was helpless within this snake’s grasp anyway, best to enjoy this to my heart’s content.

               So I sighed lustfully and revelled in the ripening of my breasts. They swelled slowly, expanding in all directions as perfect orbs of warm, tender fat. They squeezed softly against each other, tightening as they formed deep cleavage that bulged and heaved with every breath.

               “Grulda…” the snake’s voice was muffled and faint. “Wake up…”

               And they ripened further still. The frantic struggles of the snake-with-Flynn’s-voice trapped within my straining vest only added to the pleasure as his fingers gripped my growing tit for dear life. Ah, I never wanted this to end…

               “Help me… I can’t breathe…”

               Wait. That voice! It was –

 

               “Flynn!” my eyes shot wide open with a burst of adrenaline. I glanced down with dawning horror as I realized that there was no snake gripping my tit – but none other than Flynn!

               That damned dwarf of a bard! Somehow he’d found himself under me in my sleep and found himself crushed by my bodyweight! Worse, he’d slipped his hand into my vest!

               “You!” I scrambled to my feet. “You felt me in my sleep! You… you…”

               Flynn gasped for breath as my chest came off his face, but as I sprang to my feet, he came flying with me, for his hand was trapped tightly between my tits! Worse, they were still growing…

               “It’s not my fault!” Flynn swung by his trapped arm like a pendulum. “You rolled on top of me! I nearly died!”

               “You will…” I stammered. “I-I’ll cut you. W-where’s my knife –”

               In my frantic struggle, I tripped on a small rock and we tumbled backwards. I landed flat on my ass, the helpless bard falling upon my belly with his legs straddling my waist. I sat there, dumbfounded and smarting from the impact as I looked Flynn in the eyes. Things were happening too fast! I wasn’t sure what to think or to feel, and as the moment stretched between us, I felt my face fill with heat and my heart began to pound.

               “I couldn’t see!” Flynn explained with mounting panic. “I didn’t mean to –”

               “Stop…” A single tear rolled past my cheek. I was losing control. “Don’t…”

               “Can you help me pull my hand out?” he asked.

               A slight twitch of his fingers between my breasts was all it took to send me over the edge. Deep down past my navel, I felt my belly begin to rise like a mound between Flynn’s thighs.

               “Oh… oh no…” I moaned.

               Even Flynn could sense the changes. “What’s happening?”

               “I-I can’t stop it… it’s starting…”

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Fourteen

               I lay against the ground with Flynn straddling my waist like a mounted raider. He stared down between his legs with his mouth agape as he noticed what was happening to my body. Oh, I almost wished that he would say something to ease the cringeworthy embarrassment of the moment! But he was speechless as I lost control of myself and began to fatten and grow beneath him.

               It had started with my tits, which had swollen in my sleep to such tremendous size that they I could scarcely believe my vest hadn’t burst. They held Flynn’s little hand in a vicelike grip, squeezing it tightly between their still-growing orbs. The sensation of his fingers flexing and wriggling as he tried to free them was unlike anything I’d ever felt, and though I hated myself for it, it felt good. It was arousing – erotic, even. So much so that all the rage and anger I could muster couldn’t smother it, no matter how much I tried. So my tits continued to grow, and more they grew, the hornier I became, and the hornier I became, the more I grew – a vicious, cascading cycle.

               But even as the rising swell of my breasts obscured my vision, I could feel another part of myself rising. Lower down my body and between Flynn’s thighs, my belly began to rise and spread. I could feel it pressing softly upwards against the lower rim of my vest and belt buckle. Flynn gasped as my growing bulk began to spread his legs wider, and stared downwards at the sight of what I could only assume was my perfect abs being buried by a rapidly-growing green gut.

               “Oh by the gods, it’s happening,” he finally said. “The were-dragon curse!”

               “The what…?” I asked breathlessly. “Oh right! The curse…”

               “We need to get my hand free before you lose your senses altogether!”

               “Yes, that…” I grimaced. “Ugh, can you stop tickling me with your fingers? You’re setting me off.”

               “It’s not on purpose, I swear!” he replied. “I can’t even feel my hand anymore. It’s getting too tight… what’s that noise?”

               “My trousers…” I moaned. “My thighs… they’re…”

               “Gods…” Flynn glanced behind either of his shoulders like a panicking cat. “I can see it… Grulda, you’re getting huge –”

               I snatched his collar in my fist so hard the exposed tops of my breasts wobbled like waves on the open sea. “Enough of this,” I growled as I drew his face to mine. “We’re losing time. You need to take off my vest.”

               “But I’m left-handed,” his breath brushed against my breasts and made them ripple with goosebumps. “That’s the hand that’s trapped between –”

               “Fuck it,” I shoved his face away. “Just rip the vest off.”

               “What? Are you sure?”

               “Just do it!” I screamed. To my horror, my trousers ripped down the ass-seam with a resounding rip and I felt my cheeks spread across the gravel. “Rip it off! Or cut it; I don’t care…”

               Flynn scrambled and fumbled his free hand into his satchel as I lay there breathless and trying to ignore the sensations of my growing body. I steadied my breathing and even closed my eyes, but it was no use. I could feel my waist expanding and spreading Flynn’s legs ever wider, and the feel of a hundred loose pebbles against my growing ass was overwhelming. The pebbles got everywhere, sliding into my crack and rubbing tightly against the weighty flesh like sharp, probing fingers, pressing ever-tighter, making me ache for release from the tension, yearning for climax. I was growing enormously-fat, and it felt good.

               “Got it!” Flynn pulled his hand from his satchel and wielded his hunting knife.

               “Hurry…” I wheezed. “I can’t breathe…”

               “Don’t move…” he set the blade against the lace strapped over my cleavage. “Just need to…”

               The vest exploded open at the slightest prick of his knife. Massive, meaty mammaries thrust violently outwards as I gasped for breath. They jiggled with every move of my chest, and I felt their tips harden against the crisp mountain air. Such was my relief that I barely noticed Flynn’s hand slip free – until I felt him take hold of my round gut.

               “What manner of curse is this?” he gave the still-growing mound a light squeeze.

               “No!” I shoved him off and scrambled to my feet. “Don’t do that!”

               I towered over him now as he gaped upwards at my fattened form with a trembling lip, and I suddenly realized with mounting horror that my secret was laid naked before him. Gone was my dignity along with my muscled and highly-trained figure, replaced with the most unsightly-obese orc to ever stand beneath the sun. My perfect abs and trim waist had swelled into a weighty orb of fat like a cow with calf. Likewise, my already-cumbersome chest had swelled further-still, with each tit resting against my new belly, round and riddled with goosebumps. My hard, muscled ass wobbled with a mind of its own behind me now, easily triple its former size, and each thigh had matched the growth of the fatty cheek they supported like pedestals of gluttony. I’d become what I hated most, and my deepest darkest secret had become too big to hide.

               “So it’s… not a were-dragon curse,” Flynn broke the silence once again.

               “Don’t…” I growled, but felt my voice crack.

               “Is this why you didn’t want anyone to see it?”

               “No don’t!” I wrapped my arms around bare front and turned away, huddling myself into the mountainside and wishing I were invisible. “Don’t look at me!”

               “Grulda, it’s alright,” I heard him say behind me.

               “No, it’s not!” in spite of myself, I felt tears beading in my eyes. “It’s not alright! I… I got fat and… and it’s all your fault! It’s your fault you got trapped! You slept too close to me you stupid city-dwelling string-plucker! And you made me feel… you…”

               “Are you crying?”

               I was silently crying so hard that I dared not answer, but instead closed my eyes and buried them deep into my folded arms. The fact that my arms were resting atop my massive, heaving breasts, which were in-turn resting atop a belly that had folded into two prominent rolls, only added to my misery.

               Then I felt his hand touch my back.

               “What?” I sniffed loudly with a rattling sigh. “Haven’t you touched me enough? I’m a big fat joke now. You gonna write a song about this, bard?”

               “No.”

               “And why not?” I sniffed again and licked salty tears from my upper-lip. “Isn’t that why you wanted to be around me? Well, now you’ve got your best song yet – the big stupid orc who got fat because she felt love…”

               “Is that true? It’s a curse of love?”

               “Yes.”

               I felt him trace his hand to my chubby upper-arm. Slowly, he wrapped both arms around its soft, warm flesh and embrace it. “I thought you said those feelings you had in the cave were for the raccoon queen. So you loved me all along?”

               “I don’t know… yes? I don’t know what love is… I never dared try to learn.”

               “There’s many kinds of love…”

               “What does it matter anyway?” I sighed. “I’m fat and ugly now. Who could ever love someone so fat?”

               He didn’t answer right away, but hugged my arm tightly as he nuzzled his head against it. “You know, my whole life I’ve struggled to find someone to love. Sure, I’m told I’m handsome – and teaching myself how to play the lute certainly helped me meet all kinds of admirers – but all that makes you wonder if they truly love you or just your looks and music. Grulda?”

               “Yes?”

               He tugged softly at my arm to peel me away from myself. I let him do it, but only because I’d lost the will to resist, such was my utter despair. But I was looking at him now, and he was looking back into my eyes. Never once did his gaze waver; he didn’t even blink as he reached upwards towards my face to lay his hand upon my cheek.

               “I always wanted to know if someone loved me. If I knew for certain, I would wish to be with them forevermore. I want that most of all.”

               “Truly?” I blinked my tears away.

               Now I looked upon Flynn with a fresh perspective. This bard – this two-foot bite-sized man was the only soul in all the world that knew who I truly was. Long had I dreaded this day – this exposure of the softer part of my personality – and had even hoped it would never come. Now that it had, I was filled with questions and self-doubt. I loved him? In what way? I’d avoided dwelling upon the subject of love for so long I had no clue how it even worked.

               Yes. I supposed some part of me did like – no, love something about Flynn, but I would have to learn as I went. This part of me that could love was entirely unknown to me. From this day forward, anything could happen to me, and I would need Flynn’s help to understand it.

               “Hey,” Flynn rubbed my cheek. “We’re both cursed, remember? When we make it to Bruxton, we’ll meet that raccoon-witch’s friends and they can try and cure us. I know you’ll enjoy being a muscled-meathead again.”

               Damn him, but his encouraging words were exactly what I needed to hear. I felt my jawline soften under his touch, my face widening ever so slightly. In spite of myself, I grinned.

               “Yes, I think I’d like that,” I replied. “I’d love that.”

               I wrapped him in my arms and gave him a hug – the first hug I’d ever made in so, so long.

[Deoxyribo9]

how romantic!

[>_< 0_0]

2 hours ago, Deoxyribo9 said:

how romantic!

That dawning realization that this story will require me to define exactly what love is 😨

[Batman76]

Into chapter two, and she's decided to kidnap a bard.... So she ends this knocked up right?

[>_< 0_0]

11 hours ago, Batman76 said:

Into chapter two, and she's decided to kidnap a bard.... So she ends this knocked up right?

We’ll get there when we get there! Gif unrelated

[>_< 0_0]

Chapter Fifteen

               It took some time to repair the rips and tears in my clothes, but the cool mountain air nipping at my bare skin was motivating enough to quicken my efforts. By the time the sun was high enough to vaporize the fog from the ground below, I was strapped firmly into my clothes again.

               Very firmly, I might add. My body had recently swelled to double its normal size after its first taste of love, and such tempting thoughts once embraced would be nearly impossible to banish. Yes, the passion of the early morning had lessened somewhat, as had my copious green flesh, but wasn’t completely gone. My breasts and belly still bulged like a wife married a full season, my hips still spread wide like a horse, and I still loved the bard named Flynn. At least, it seemed that I loved him…

               “Ready to go?” Flynn asked as he watched me fasten my belt.

               “We’re not leaving until I – hff – fasten this buckle,” I grunted. “This thing is… hrr… not cooperating with my waistline…”

               “It’s not that bad,” Flynn said unhelpfully. “Looks almost as thin as it used to be. Maybe the swelling will go down by tonight.”

               “Oh really? You think my love for you will be gone altogether? You sell yourself short, short man,” I smirked at him and turned to face him. “Look at this soft gut you’ve given me. See how its pushing the ends of my belt from each other? This is your fault.”

               “Yes, well… I have mixed feelings about that,” he swallowed as I stepped closer.

               “I jest, I jest,” I shook my head and tugged my belt into the protruding mound of fat again. “Fuck me, but this is the absolute worst! It’s bad enough I’ll be jiggling with every step, but I can’t even get this thing on! How does this love-thing even work? Well, bard? Any ideas? You’re the expert on such things.”

               “The world would be a simpler place if love could be explained?”

               “And why not?” I lurched and twisted in place to no avail. “Every other mood is so damn easy to describe! I get mad and the whole world knows what that means. Some poor sap cries into his mug at the tavern and everyone knows exactly what he feels. Happiness, sadness, frustration…” I grunted with another hopeless tug. “… all so easy to explain. But love? Love? What in gods’ name is that trollshit?”

               “Well, whatever it is, why not keep the belt off for now?”

               I froze and stared at him indignantly. “Are you mad? My axe is fastened to my belt within arms-reach for a reason, city-boy. If I can’t fit this thing on, I’ll have to strap it to my back.”

               “But you don’t need an axe,” he replied. “I’ve seen you hunt.”

               “You don’t get it,” I resumed my efforts with the belt. “A warrior just doesn’t strap weapons behind themselves like some lunchsack. That’s stupid. You’re stupid.”

               “Actually, I think I get it,” he replied. “You value your strength and status as a warrior and mercenary so much that you can’t stand to let it go. But you don’t need to be like that around me. I value you because of who you really are, not who you pretend to –”

               “Ha! Got it!”

               “Wait, what?”

               “Got the belt on. Seems like your annoying rambling was exactly what my waistline needed.”

               “Oh… well, that’s good, I guess.”

               “Don’t worry Flynn,” I patted my protruding horse-rump. “There’s still meat on these bones. Now hurry and get on my shoulders before you sabotage anything else in my body. It’s time to head to Bruxton.”