Lady Melissa was notorious among the nobility and the peasantry alike, although for highly different reasons.
Among the nobility, although there were some who took considerable pause at her very common, lowborn appearance- tall, muscled body, dark hair and eyes, a decidedly overdone plumpness to her lips- it was common knowledge to disregard this, as she was a vicious gossip, and her gatherings were absolutely legendary. The King and Queen themselves would often do and say very crude and debasing things in her presence, and yet no one would mind because such things were often in the spirit of her parties. She was definitely overstated in everything she did, and did not find it odd to feature orgies and "hunting games" (where one would stand on her balcony with a crossbow and have a set amount of time to hit as many targets as possible, some of which were mobile courtesy of her servants) on the retinue alongside balls and political debates. In short, peculiar.
Among the peasantry, one could easily be fooled by her orders for higher education, and the bizarrely high crop yield in her territory, into thinking her a paragon of the lower classes. However, she was just as bad if not worse than the others, due to the . . . instability of her actions, which included everything from typical noble selfishness to baths of human blood to beating people to death with a spoon. She was especially odd due to her taking a single peasant "attendant" at a time, who would be made to hold up to insane, often changing standards of perfection, and to be in her presence absolutely constantly- even the home these attendants would have would never be more than a mile from her castle. However, these attendants were murdered and replaced on various whims, and none lasted longer than a month. She was, in a word, peculiar.
However, there was one who did not simply find Lady-Duchess Melissa, of the Duchy of Mykin in the Kingdom of Ruhenne, to be feared, or joked with, or looked upon as a peculiarity. Taryn, her newest attendant, outright loved her.
And this, Melissa herself found peculiar. No matter how debasing the act, no matter how gruesome the activity, no matter how utterly insane Melissa was being, the more petite woman was always by her side, unless directly ordered not to be.
This pushed Melissa to find Taryn's limit.
This spurred Melissa's inevitable comeuppace.
*** *** ***
Melissa had put Taryn to work scrubbing the main bathtub while she got to work on her latest bit of whimsy. In this case, she had come across a shrinking spell, and while the thought of making the already short blonde absolutely puny before her crossed her mind, she had to dismiss it. After all, for all her vivid imagination, all she could come up with to humiliate a tiny Taryn would probably be a dream come true for the lovestruck peasant.
But shrinking just the younger woman's clothes? Now there was an idea. Make her sit, nude, before the object of her obvious affections, and penalize her if she reacted physically in any way. That such a thing would coincide with the Amazonian noblewoman's bath was simply additional reason to do it. Melissa could picture it now: elegantly extending her arms, permitting soap suds and boiler-heated water to flow down her body and trace along its curves . . . and little Taryn, helpless to do anything but watch, struggling with her own stupid crush. Melissa permitted herself a smirk.
The dark-haired noble recited the incantation from memory and stared intently at Taryn's clothing, discarded as per her own orders . . . nothing. Melissa frowned. "Perhaps I said it incorrectly," she said, crossing her arms in displeasure . . . only for the contact-triggered spell to cause the now two-inch woman to fall the extended drop to Taryn's undergarments.
*** TARYN ***
It had taken hours of scrubbing, on hands and knees, to achieve the spotlessness her Lady sought, but the straw-haired peasant girl had finally done it- Melissa's tub was gleaming, and the servants had been fetched to fill the nearly lake-sized depression in the floor with water. Taryn quickly pulled on her clothes (Lady Melissa had ordered her to wear trousers and coats, like a man, but Taryn cared not for what she wore so long as she cold be nearby a being of beauty such as her Lady), and idly noticed Melissa's discarded on the floor near them.
"My Lady?" Taryn asked the empty air hesitantly. Lady Melissa was prone to all sorts of games- perhaps this was a nude variant of that seeking game children played? Taryn smiled at the thought of her tall, gorgeous Lady, stark naked, trying to conceal herself beneath her bed, or behind a bookcase. "My Lady, if we're to play one of your games, may I be informed of the rules? If I know not the rules of the game, then how can it be said I'm playing?"
As she waited for a response, Taryn idly bent down and picked up the Lady-Duchess's dress and undergarments, pausing for only a moment to breathe deep of the fabric's scent, before sending them down the laundry chute. It was then that Taryn noted her Lady's silk-and-gold slippers, and became highly alarmed- the attendant had watched her Lady-Duchess scold even other nobles for daring touch the sleek (if somewhat large for a woman) footwear. The young peasant girl felt relatively safe in the assumption that the noblewoman, for all her inconsistencies, would never simply leave these shoes in the open where anyone could ruin them.
"Sound the alarm!" Taryn cried, running down the halls as fast as her legs could carry her, ignoring the awkward bunching the men's garments she wore did. "Lady Melissa is gone!"
*** MELISSA ***
Of course, poor Taryn was wrong, in a sense . . . but she was right in the important one. While technically Lady-Duchess Melissa was as close as she could ever be to Taryn, the two women's bodies in contact as Taryn's vaginal lips repeatedly touched Melissa's head as she ran . . . Melissa could hardly still be considered herself. At two inches tall, no one would take her seriously enough for her to run a Duchy, and such a creature wasn't fit to hold such a title in the first place.
Lady Melissa was indeed gone . . . replaced by Insect Melissa, who was angrily trying to assert her authority over a crossdressing peasant girl's underwear of all things.
"Stop that!" she screamed ineffectually, barely able to hear herself over Taryn's voice booming over her. "You will stop- ugh- shoving me- ah- into this girl's- eurgh- vagina this instant!" Unable to fight the titanic being that bade the cavas-sized cotton pantaloons move, Melissa instinctively sought to lord authority over the inanimate object instead.
This worked about as well as one might think, and poor Melissa was only tiring herself out. This had the unfortunate effect of robbing her of her energy when she needed it most- when a passing maid finally calmed Taryn and sent the hysterical attendant home. As Taryn was unable to hear Melissa over her own self-pitying cries, and the insect-sized noble couldn't move enough to reach up and touch the blonde-fringed organ she'd been accidentally slammed into time and time again, the former Lady-Duchess of Mykin was left to fume for Taryn's entire, thankfully brief, walk home.
The peasant girl almost immediately stripped naked and went to clean up, still sniffling and berating herself. This unfortunately left the two-inch Lady-Duchess alone on the floor, barring the removed clothing. She immediately tried to get her bearings, and decided that her best option would be to get Taryn's attention and get taken back to the castle library to hopefully find a counter-spell. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done, given how it seemed the blonde was unable to hear her, and seeing her was definitely our unless she WANTED to be mistaken for a common roach in this hovel.
Melissa inwardly shuddered- Taryn was . . . surprisingly efficient at getting rid of pests, which was one reason the noble hadn't tired of her yet. It probably wouldn't take much for the girl's fist or foot to reduce her beloved Lady to a smear of red, and the girl would be none the wiser.
So, Melissa began her trek across the dirty floor, inwardly desperate for some shoes- the filth was one thing, and Melissa disliked it, but the gritty rocks were painful on feet that generally only met smooth stone or marble three times in a day, at maximum, and otherwise were always in the most comfortable of shoes the Kingdom could provide. Eventually, she made it to two flat pieces of leather sewn together rather roughly, almost making a pocket if it weren't considerably longer on one side. Melissa dismissed it as having been a rather abortive attempt at sewing for the peasant girl, and made the decision to hide in it until morning, despite the considerable metallic scent.
Until, that is, Taryn's now thunderous voice boomed down from above. "Where is the other . . . Ah. There you are," the girl said, picking up Melissa's hiding place between two fingers, effortlessly holding it aloft and jostling the miniature noble about. Melissa cursed at the top of her lungs, but from below Taryn's hips (she knew this because she was being carried low enough to look up at one, and she offhandedly noted that Taryn was still undressed) her voice wouldn't carry to the young woman's head.
Just as Melissa was about to give up and sulk, she was set down. Inside the leather pocket, the dark-skinned woman laid down quietly and went for a nap- this was all too much.
*** AN HOUR LATER ***
Melissa was jolted awake from her sleep by a heavy thumping not too far from her body- and was startled by the presence of a large shape barging its way towards her resting place. It was huge, it was fearsome, it . . . was only Taryn's foot. The foot of a puny peasant girl held enough power to terrify Melissa, and that fact was abolutely mortifying.
At least Melissa knew where she was now, though: the inside of a house slipper. A disgusting hiding place, in retrospect, but perhaps this was her chance. Trapped against the wall of this slipper, all Melissa needed to do was rech out, the tiniest bit, and Taryn would know she was there.
So why couldn't she do it?
Why was she having so much damned trouble just . . . touching those damned massive toes?
Perhaps it was her pride? Melissa assured herself she could easily regain her noble dignity by executing Taryn once she returned to normal, but that seemed to make the hesitance worse, and with the powerful sound of the peasant girl yawning overhead, it seemed the opportunity would be lost soon.
Perhaps she was being held in check by fear? Fear of being stomped into the arms of Death by nothing more than her servant's foot? That had some likelihood to it, but Melissa calmed herself. Taryn would never harm her, and the advantage of surprise was with her. The blonde wouldn't be expecting to feel something on her toes, so she'd reflexively pull her foot from her slipper, and Melissa would be given enough time to make her presence known.
That, at last, quelled her hesitance. She reached out and clambered onto the plump toes of her attendant, ready to scream as loud as she could.
The foot retracted, pulling Melissa with it into the moonlight, to the surface of Taryn's oversized fether pillow of a mattress . . . all to the sound of the blonde peasant girl's shrieks of fear.
"TARYN! LOOK AT ME, TARYN!" Melissa called, desperate to be heard, to be seen. She flailed her arms, hoping to catch her attendant's attention in a serious enough manner to be given a glance sustained until her identity was established.
Suddenly, a lantern, luckily still lit, was brought before Melissa- although it must be said it initially looked like an attempt to squash her, and the noble threw up her arms in mortal terror.
A voice, simultaneously soft and powerful, rang out from above Melissa's head. "What . . . ?" The dark-haired Lady-Duchess slowly lowered her arms, hesitantly looking up into Taryn's face. Tired and rustled by nearly getting to bed as her appearance was, the comparatively titanic young woman carried a kind of beauty and dignity to her that Melissa internally, in a part of her being she could not suppress, wished to be closer to. The noblewoman took one step forward, then another, entirely silently.
"My Lady?" Taryn whispered, blushing a deep red as she realized the object of her affections had been cooped up in one of her old , reeking house slippers. "M-my . . . my apologies, Milady Melissa!" she bowed her head, her eyes shut. "I knew not of your presence there, and if I had I would most definitely have cleaned my home," she said rapidly, wincing as she recalled just how dirty her home was compared to the castle, "and my clothes. A thousand pardons, what is my punishment to be?"
Melissa smirked up at Taryn, and walked up to her foot while visibly holding her nose, causing the blonde to scrunch her toes and blush. "You are not to be punished, Taryn. This is not your fault . . . at least, I don't think it is . . . however, I will need you to help me fix it. I've dabbled in sorcery, and there are some books in my library. I believe one might restore me to normal." This was actually true, if deflecting how much sorcery she "dabbled" in after little Taryn was sent home- she honestly had no ideas regarding a counterspell, and could only hope one existed. Still, it was best to hope positive for the moment.
"I'll not be allowed back in the castle until morning," Taryn murmured, "but I shall do everything in my power to find that spell for you." The blonde was absolutely adorable when making a vow, Melissa decided- perhaps giving the girl what she wanted and simply taking her wasn't too bad a thought . . . if, admittedly, it would need to be done behind closed doors. A noble and a peasant having relations was too scandalous to be permitted to get out, even for her.
"Now then," Melissa clapped twice, "I shall need bedding, little Tar- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" she screamed as Taryn's long fingers, each as broad as a turret, wrapped around her body and hoisted her into the air.
"Well," she said heavily, her face flushed and her lower lip firmly under her teeth as she laid back, "my bedding is very coarse. Peasant fare, you know," she said obviously, moving her hand that clutched her Mistress to her chest, as the other pulled on a heavy woolen blanket. "So, the softest thing for you to sleep on," she laughed lightly, depositing her Lady on her right breast softly, "is me. Bear with me, as my body pales in comparison to your silk bed, and I'm sure my rump would be softer, but . . ." her blush deepened as she pulled the blanket over her chest, pinning the indignant Melissa to her body, "I have my reasons not to put you there," she finished, gleefully falling asleep as she was extremely excited for the events of the following morning.
Lady-Duchess Melissa, however, was far less enthused.