The eastern plains at the edge of the kingdom of Baldania were
sparsely populated and developed, years of instability having made
regular farming impossible. Albert’s reign was starting to change that,
with the kingdom flourishing under his rule.
A rule that was in part thanks to Cyrene, the hundred twenty foot
Harpy that fluttered through the skies, every flap of her wings swaying
the trees below like a thunderstorm gale. Nestled in her crimson hair
was Albert himself, gripping a long strand of the harpy’s hair for
balance as she brought him, Morwen, and Meghan to the open expanse of
Baldania’s eastern frontier.
The crisp alpine scent of Cyrene’s hair filled his nostrils as the
enormous harpy flapped her arms, settling down on the wide open
expanse. She lifted her wings up to her head, gripping the trio of
humans out of her hair gently.
“Is this good Albert?” she asked, looking around at the abandoned countryside.
“It’ll do,” he nodded, feeling his stomach lurch as Cyrene gently set them down on the grassy plains.
“Not a lot out here,” Morwen, Albert’s second wife, remarked.
“No,” Albert agreed, placing his hands on his hips and surveying it, “it’s perfect for
testing
things.”
“I still say it would have been totally safe to try this at home,”
Meghan said, flourishing her mage robe as she withdrew a small bottle, a
glowing blue liquid splashing against the sides as she held it up.
Albert bit his tongue, simply taking it from her without comment.
There was a rush of wind as Cyrene shrank back to her normal height
behind him, going from over a hundred feet tall to a “mere” eight. The
crimson haired harpy playfully draped her feathered wings over him,
pulling him close to her toned stomach as Meghan readied the potion.
Glancing at the three women Albert reflected again on just how
lucky he’d been. It seemed like just yesterday that he’d been told he
was the only heir to the Baldanian throne, shanghaied into being the
figurehead of a collapsing kingdom. With luck, and he liked to think a
fair bit of wit, he’d managed to turn things around, raising an army,
fixing the kingdom’s stagnant economy, and finding himself married to a
trio of beautiful and talented women who would serve as his queens.
Morwen nodded at him as he regarded the girls, the tough former
Bandit captain was a gruff sort normally, skilled with swords, muskets,
and a dozen other armaments. The long sleeves she wore hid the scars
that crisscrossed her body, the result of a magical ritual intended to
grant her immunity to magic, a trait which had saved their lives more
than once.
“Just let me mix these,” Meghan said, popping the cork on a second
potion bottle and letting a few drops fall into the blue concoction.
Meghan was a scrawny twig thin girl who’d flunked out of the Imperial
magic academy. With few options and no money, Albert had hired the young
spellcaster to help him run his kingdom, a decision that had ended with
him shrunk to a few inches tall and hidden in her bra while she tried
to cover her mistake. He’d eventually come to appreciate Meghan, and
she’d made far fewer mistakes of late when honing her impressive magical
talents. The matching bracelets they both wore were a testament to
that, an enchanted piece of jewelry that allowed the pair of them to
remain at full size, in spite of the shrinking curse she’d accidentally
inflicted on them both. She’d fallen in as another queen of his,
managing the mystical affairs of the small kingdom.
“What’s this potion going to do!?” Cyrene asked excitedly, hugging
Albert closer to her. She gasped a moment, “Meghan, could it turn me
blue!?”
“Why in the name of the gods would you want to be blue?” Albert
asked, stifling a laugh as he leaned into the comforting embrace.
He’d met Cyrene when she had been squatting in the royal castle,
simply moving in and declaring his own bedroom as her new nest shortly
after his forced coronation. Instead of the monster he’d expected, he’d
found Cyrene to be good natured, and while often unfamiliar with human
society or more worldly concerns, her kindness and support had been the
bedrock of bringing his new kingdom back from the brink.
The fact that an experimental magical ritual had given her the
ability to grow to a hundred twenty foot colossus of a harpy had helped
too of course, and even now what few enemies remained in the kingdom
knew to fear the sudden flash of a shadow overhead before the wagon
sized talons of the immense harpy would come down on them.
“What is this potion of Meghan’s supposed to do exactly?” Morwen
asked warily, resting a hand on her sword pommel as she regarded the
diminutive mage.
“We’re going to make Cyrene even more powerful,” Albert explained, grinning up at the harpy.
“Is she not dangerous enough at one hundred and twenty feet tall?”
Morwen asked, amused. “Are these kinds of things really necessary
anymore Albert? My brother and I have the army ready for just about
anything.”
“You and your brother have my full confidence,” Albert said with a scowl, “but we’re a
small
kingdom, and now that we’re prosperous suddenly our neighbors
think we’re good enough to conquer, if they see the opportunity.” He
separated from Cyrene, stepping back and feeling her soft red feathers
against his skin as he joined the other two humans. “If it should come
to defending ourselves from the Empire, the Elves, even the Amazons, we
need as many aces up our sleeve as we can get. A giant harpy is good,
but a giant harpy that can breathe fire? Or perhaps summon ice storms?
Well, that’s even better.”
“So you don’t actually know what this potion is going to do?” Morwen asked, crossing her arms.
“Nope!” Meghan beamed, “I found this mixture in the notes of the
dark wizard that made the first potion for Cyrene, he didn’t exactly
leave a lot of detailed notes, except to say this one would make a
powerful monster even stronger.”
“I can’t wait!” Cyrene beamed, “it’s been so much fun being able
to get huge, chasing all of you cute humans around like field rabbits!”
She made a playful snatching motion with her talons, giggling slightly
at the thought.
“Okay, I think it’s ready!” Meghan said, holding the bubbling mixture up to Cyrene.
The harpy eagerly took the glass bottle in her clawed talons,
lifting it to her lips as the three humans looked on. She took a sip,
smacking her lips as she tasted it, then her eyes went wide and she
grinned.
“Oh, it’s good!”
Without waiting another second she downed the rest of the bottle,
the blue glow of the enchantment lingering on her lips a moment.
“Well?” Meghan asked eagerly, “do you feel phenomenal cosmic power yet?”
“I feel…
good,
” Cyrene said, blinking, “kind of like drinking Ale, but not quite…” Her eyes went wide suddenly, “Oh wow, that feels-“
That was the last thing the four of them heard before the blinding flash of light rocked their senses.
…
Morwen groaned as she blinked herself awake. She was somewhere
warm at least, that was something. She looked up at the walls around
her, then up at the blue sky overhead. Some kind of canyon perhaps?
“Damn it Meghan, your potion teleported me somewhere,” she growled.
The ground was soft, spongy almost, and she tried to get her
bearings. The surface of wherever she was had a slightly wrinkled
texture, seeming to emanate out from a central point. The smell on the
air was familiar too, a somewhat woody and brisk scent that reminded her
of mountains for some reason.
She froze, while Morwen had only occasionally spent time close to
the harpy relative to Morwen and Albert, that particular aroma was
unmistakable, one that only a harpy had.
I’m on Cyrene somewhere,
she realized in shock,
I’m…
She looked up at the sky, then the pale skin colored walls around her.
“CYRENE!” she shouted as loud as she could, “CYRENE I’M HERE!”
The enormous harpy’s eyes fluttered open. She was laying on her
back, and from the smooth feeling of the grassland beneath her she could
tell her size had changed. It was something she was used to, but she
frowned as she looked to her side at one of the few trees that dotted
the landscape.
“Oh wow,” she giggled, “I’m
really
big now!”
The tree in question likely wouldn’t have even come up to the top
of her clawed toe, and if not for the advanced senses of sight that a
harpy possessed, she probably wouldn’t even be able to make it out at
all. She scowled as she saw that her clothing was gone, likely torn to
shreds when she’d grown. Megan had managed some kind of size changing
fabric for her, but evidently this newest size had overwhelmed it, no
doubt reducing it to stretched and torn threads somewhere.
Hearing was another sense that was far more powerful for a harpy
than for a human, and a tiny voice reached her ear, “Cyrene!” it called,
“I’m stuck in your-“
“Just a second Morwen,” Cyrene, said, reaching a clawed finger towards her bellybutton, “let me scratch this itch…”
Morwen’s eyes went wide as the enormous digit came into view. The
revelation of just how big Cyrene had gotten was truly sobering. “Her
finger was like a massive tower moving through the sky, blocking out the
sun as she playfully scratched around the edge of the bellybutton that
had become Morwen’s prison.
“I’M IN HERE!” she shouted as loud as she could.
Cyrene froze, “Wait,” she said, smiling in amusement, “You’re in my bellybutton? No way!”
The harpy’s rumbling giggle was like an earthquake, and Morwen
fell to the ground, feeling the world shake as she was tossed to and fro
against the soft walls of the canyon sized indent on the harpy’s toned
stomach.
“CYRENE THIS IS-“
Her shouts were cut off as the harpy playfully pinched the sides
of her bellybutton, “closing” it and biting her lip in amusement as
Morwen’s cries were muffled.
“You’re not even the size of an ant,” Cyrene mused, letting the bellybutton part.
Morwen scowled as light returned to her world, “Cyrene seriously,
you’ve got to be at least a thousand feet tall, it’s not safe to stay
that size!”
“Yeah okay,” Cyrene muttered. As fun as it was to keep her friend
trapped, the harpy had to admit she was right. She concentrated a
moment, summoning up the usual sensation of shrinking back to her normal
size… but nothing happened. “Huh,” she mused, “I can’t change back,
something must be wrong.”
“Something went wrong with Meghan’s potion,” Morwen muttered, “
Shocking
.”
“You just stay there for a minute until I find the others, okay?” Cyrene said cheerfully.
“Just stay here!?” Morwen balked, “Cyrene, I’m not staying in your bellybutton! CYRENE!”
Cyrene ignored her protests, playfully tapping the outside of the
bellybutton and causing Morwent to tumble into the center as she
focused, trying to feel any other bug sized motions against her skin.
Probably shouldn’t get up until I find them,
she thought, chewing her lip and wondering where Meghan and Albert had ended up.
…
Meghan came to with a groan. Her hand traced along the surface of
the ground, and she frowned as she realized it was warm. She’d been
shrunk and toyed with by the harpy enough times to know exactly what
that meant, and her eyes traced up to the twin mountains on either side
of her, each capped off at the summit by a perky brown nipple large
enough to park an entire wagon train around.
“Whoa,” Meghan muttered, then grinned, “It worked!”
“Meghan?” the harpy’s voice rumbled.
“Yeah, right down here!” Meghan shouted.
“I don’t see you!”
The harpy’s face reared up, a massive geographic feature that
filled the horizon as she looked down at the mage. Meghan gulped
nerviously, feeling the soft breath of the harpy like the wind current
before a storm, each exhale whipping her short hair around her ears.
Meghan leapt up, waving her hands feebly as the gigantic eyes
scanned the vast plain in the center of the harpy’s cleavage. They
focused on her suddenly, and she had to fight an instinctive urge to
flee as a pair of irises big enough to swallow her up a hundred times
spotted her.
“You guys are so tiny,” Cyrene giggled.
“We’re not,” Meghan scowled, “you’re just huge! Now Listen, once
the potion settles you should be able to shrink back to your normal
size, so just… try not to destroy anything until then!”
“Not much out here to destroy,” Cyrene muttered, looking around at
the desolate grasslands. She glanced down at the speck sized mage,
“Hold still!”
Meghan’s eyes went wide as a taloned finger came up to Cyrene’s
mouth, and a castle sized tongue traced out, coating it in a thin sheen
of saliva.
“W-Wait, Cyrene, that’s not a good idea!”
The spit covered digit was descending down on her, and Meghan
sighed, knowing it would be impossible to outrun. She simply waited,
grimacing as the slimy pillar came down. She grunted as it made impact,
forcing her against the soft expanse of the harpy’s warm skin, indenting
into it slightly before lifting up, holding her stuck to it as the spit
dried like concrete, sealing her in place.
“I just need to put you somewhere easier to keep track of,” she
explained. Meghan saw the harpy’s chest pass below her, giving her a
view of the immense breasts not unlike the view of mountains when flying
overhead. The erect nipple at the peak was growing closer as Cyrene
lowered Meghan’s dot sized form towards it, and a moment later her body
collided with the brown flesh as she was scraped off the fingertip.
Meghan scowled as she tried to move, but the remaining spit was
rapidly drying her in place again, leaving her stuck to the side of the
harpy’s massive nipple, her arms and legs spread at her sides while the
titanic harpy squinted down at her, giggling at her predicament.
“You just stay right there,” She muttered, playfully flicking her
nipple and shuddering slightly. Biting her lip she played with it for a
few more seconds, running a fingertip over the trapped Meghan. She
couldn’t really feel her, but knowing she was there was exciting.
“Now I have one more human to find…” she mused, wondering where on her body Albert might have found himself.
…
The thick woody alpine scent of a Harpy’s hair filled Albert’s
nostrils as he sat up, taking in the tangled red forest he’d found
himself in.
Am I on Cyrene’s head?
He wondered, standing up and taking in his surroundings. He
glanced at the trunk of one of the massive waving red “trees” at his
side. It was thick,
impossibly
thick, and judging from the way the “forest” spread into the distance, Cyrene was much bigger than he was used to.
Another smell was mixing in with the crisp springy scent of harpy
hair, a musky warm one with an earthy undertone that was emanating from
somewhere behind him. Albert gulped as he realized that the hair around
him was far too tangled and rough to be on her head, and the smell her
arousal confirmed it.
Not her head,
he realized,
her nethers…
“CYRENE!?” he shouted, making his way through the tangled
wasteland between the harpy’s legs. He started heading in the direction
the smell of her womanhood was coming from, feeling himself growing
aroused as the smell of Cyrene’s juices began to permeate the air,
becoming so thick he could almost taste it.
Gods above, she’s already got me near the brink just from being close to her,
he thought, blinking as he tried to focus. Cyrene was always
overwhelming, but at her new size even the simple smell of her slit was
almost too much for the king to handle.
“I think I heard something,” Cyrene muttered, glancing down her
body. Albert’s voice had been muffled, farther away than the other two.
“Cyrene!” she heard him yell again, and she leaned up slightly,
scanning her body with a frown as she tried to determine where her
husband and king had found himself.
“Oh,” she giggled as she looked at the tuft of red hair between her legs, “Albert? Are you in there?”
Albert looked up as a massive finger playfully traced through the
forest of curly red hair, searching for him in vain. The parted strands
of tree trunk thick hairs did reveal the rest of his path though, and
swallowed as he looked across the slick puffy canyon that made up the
outer lips of her womanhood.
“I-I’m here!” he shouted, “I’m in your hair! DOWN HERE!”
“Hmmm… be careful not to fall in,” Cyrene thundered from above
him, “you’ll get stuck like a fly in honey!” She gently flicked her
nipple, shaking the spot she’d stuck Meghan too.
Albert’s mind was starting to get a little hazy from the thick
smell of the harpy’s arousal on the air, “Y-Yeah,” he stammered, far too
soft for her to hear.
I could probably get a little closer…
He gulped as he looked down at the pearl capping the top of her
womanhood, that little nub that was always the final spot to hit to send
her over the edge, that little nub that was now large enough to crush
him like a boulder. He crept closer, and a shiver rocked the world,
sending him tumbling to the cushiony ground.
“Oh I
definitely
felt that,” Cyrene purred, letting her hand drift down her body
again. “We’ve got some time to kill until I can get smaller again, and I
can’t exactly get up while you little specks are running all over me,
but I think we can still have a little fun!”
Albert watched, spellbound, as the tip of the harpy’s finger began
to slide into the glistening pink of the canyon before him. Her moan
shook the heavens, causing him to hug the ground for dear life as the
warmth of her womanhood billowed out over the landscape.
It was like being caught in a hurricane as the world shook and the
loud moans boomed from overhead, Albert could do nothing but cower,
hoping that this immense force of nature wouldn’t sweep him away in an
instant, swallowing him up into the slick pair of lips that hungrily
devoured fingers wider than the capital city streets.
Albert found his own hand drifting down, and amidst the rumbling
quakes of Cyrene’s self pleasure, he joined her, reaching into his pants
and gripping his aching manhood as the womanly smell of the harpy’s
slit pummeled his mind to dust, compelling him to join in the cascade of
pleasure large enough to sweep him away like a tidal wave.
“Gods above,” Morwen breathed, looking up at the shaking walls of
the belly button. She felt her own face becoming flushed as the ripe
smell of sex filled her prison like a thick fog. She blinked, swaying
slightly,
at this size she’s just too much,
she realized, giving in and beginning to rub the front of her own
pants as she fell to her knees. Thoughts vanished as the harpie’s orgasm
built, sweeping the thoughts of the tiny woman trapped in her belly
button away like a sand castle on the beach, helpless before such an
overpowering natural force.
Meghan mewled pathetically, unable to reach her own nethers as she
was forced to watch the harpy’s face contort with pleasure. The dried
glob of spit held firm, trapping the mage impotently against the tip of
Cyrene’s nipple, rising and falling with each gasping breath while the
crimson harpy toyed with herself.
“AH!” Cyrene cried out finally, her muscles tensing as she brought herself to climax.
To Albert it was like a volcanic eruption, the wetness coating
Cyrene’s fingers and filling his world with the rich powerful scent of
her womanhood. He came with her, shouting as thoughts of safety fell
away, consumed by the lustful vision of a woman’s flower large enough to
swallow up his castle, spasming in pleasure before his eyes.
“Whew,” Cyrene panted, looking at her glistening fingers. She
squinted a moment, making out a tiny dot on the tip of one, just below
where her talon would have begun. “A-Albert?” she giggled.
He tried to wave, but the thick blanket of her cum had sealed him
tight against her finger, filling his mouth and nose and making it hard
to breath as he coughed the musky goo out of his lungs.
“You really got too close,” Cyrene murmured, “you could have
gotten hurt.” She gently peeled him off against her other nipple,
leaving him sealed and stuck there like Meghan.
“I’m going to take a little nap,” Cyrene yawned, “a good cum
always makes me a little tired… I think by the time I wake up I’ll be
able to change back, so you guys just relax, okay?”
The two humans stuck to her nipples like ants, and the one trapped
like a piece of lint in her belly button, were all too exhausted to
respond.
…
“You were over a thousand feet, easily,” Albert muttered, looking
at the indents in the grass where the harpy’s talons had left deep
holes.
“That’s so cool!” Cyrene gushed, ruffling Albert’s hair, which was still grimy with her dried cum.
“You should be able to get that big any time you want,” Meghan
mused, “just focus on your normal growing ability and keep going… It’s
just going to take longer to change sizes again, that takes a lot of
magical energy!”
“So stick to a hundred feet for now,” Morwen growled, “even
flapping your wings at that size will flatten half the wheatfields near
the castle.”
“Aww, I liked being huge,” Cyrene pouted, “and I know you loved
being in my belly button Morwen! You looked really flushed when I got
you out of there!”
“I-I got caught up in the moment,” she said defensively, “at that
size… gods, there was nothing else to do, it’s like you were in my
head!”
“Yeah, when you’re up against something that big, it’s like
meeting a goddess,” Meghan giggled. “Okay, should we head back home? I
think we can call this potion a success!”
“Sounds good,” Albert nodded, “Cyrene?”
She giggled as she grew again, letting herself stop at only a
hundred feet this time as she looked down at her trio of tiny friends.
With a practiced motion she picked them up, depositing them one after
another into the feathery red hair on her head. After giving them all a
moment to get situated, she flapped her wings, taking off into the sky
to bring them home.