Grima had been defeated. Although not vanquished, his presence would no longer bring peril to the world, not for generations to come. A breath of peace swept the world as the wars cooled to an end, stretching from Ylisse to Valm. There was always a call for heroes in the world, but with no wars to wage, mighty champions of every nation began to retire from the battlefields and take instead to their homes. Even the incredible Shepherds, the noble-led mercenaries whose exploits and adventures were critical to saving the world from Grima, had largely disbanded so that its soldiers could cherish what they had fought for.

The tactician Robin and the dark mage Tharja; throughout their time thwarting evil, the two Plegians had fallen in love, united together shortly before their climactic showdown against Grima. In the most pressing moments, Robin was convinced by Chrom and the others not to sacrifice herself, to allow their bonds to stay strong. When the wicked dragon was overcome by the Shepherds, a long life with Tharja awaited her. As both had been dignified and officially titled heroes of Ylisse, they sought a luxurious home outside the capital, a manor to themselves that would allow the two the privacy they desired, but also the closeness to their allies.

Three years had passed since the worldwide peace began. With every subsequent year, it was the case that Robin and Tharja grew more distant from the other Shepherds. It had been that way with everyone truly, but little was ever heard from the married couple. Then, on a day like any other, Lucina received a message, an invitation to their manor. She had adapted to her unusual place in the royal line, taking over as leader for a new generation of Shepherds while Chrom continued to rule Ylisse. Despite the importance of her role, Lucina still made efforts to share time with her allies, and that of course included her fondly-remembered tactician.

After traveling by pegasus, Lucina had reached the manor, taken to a location deep within the rolling fields. The building, fanciful but compact, was perched along a river’s scenic vista. A humble staff of maids and butlers welcomed her upon arrival, politely guiding her through the property before allowing her passage into a lobby. She was told to wait in the spacious chamber while Robin and Tharja returned, and so she did, reflecting off a mirror situated above an unlit fireplace. As Lucina idly traced over the changes to her face since maturing three years, she wondered how different her old friends might be. Tharja was infamously eccentric, while Robin was mindful and delicate. The two were, as Lucina imagined, a peculiar pair, but she would not see herself interrupting their romance.

Interrupting her thoughts, however, was the opening of the doors. Lucina’s smile flashed hopefully, but in the mirror, she saw that behind her was neither Robin nor her wife. Yet, it was a face she instantly recognized, that of another old friend. “Cordelia? Cordelia, is that really you?” she asked, spinning on her heel to face her.

Cordelia was taken back by Lucina’s approach, and her being-there at all. “Lucina! Er-- M-Milady…?” Cordelia stammered, tripping over her words in surprise. She smiled back at Lucina as she neared, deciding to bow onto a knee as a proper greeting. “M-My apologies, milady. I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

Lucina giggled and gestured for Cordelia to rise. “It’s a pleasure to see you,” she said, “though I wasn’t expecting anyone else, either.”

“You were also invited…?” Cordelia asked as she rose. She looked over the lobby proper, noting the empty lounge chairs and corners. “Robin had requested to see me, but for what purpose, I never found out. I suppose you haven’t seen her?”

Lucina shook her head, and worry claimed the ends of her lips. Her hand instinctively balanced on the hilt of her sheathed blade. “No. Not either of them, actually.”

“Hmm… I wonder what this is all about,” Cordelia muttered, strolling into the center of the room. Too anxious to take a seat, she simply stood about with Lucina joining her. “I hope they aren’t in any trouble.”

“I hope not, either.” Lucina fixed an eye on the doors at all times. “I can trust Robin to call upon us when needed, but… it’s her that I--”

Before she could finish, the doors to the lobby opened. A host had arrived, entering the room with a creeping slowness, like how the night crawled over horizons. To greet Cordelia and Lucina was Tharja, drifting into the lobby with the gloominess she was known for. A long shawl poured over her devilish figure, cast down from her neck and draped in a pool at her feet, its transparency only generous enough to preview the silhouette of her curves underneath. Tharja’s expression was hollow, not unlike how either woman knew her to be, but as the doors closed and her dim eyes scanned the two before her, she was found scarcely smirking.

“Mmhmm~ Welcome to our manor,” Tharja said, stretching one arm out towards Cordelia and Lucina in a suggestion towards the rest of the building. “I am very grateful for your timeliness. I could hardly wait another minute…”

Lucina smiled, as did her fellow guest, but Tharja’s tone left an obvious chill on her. “I surely speak for us both when I say that it’s an honor to be invited,” she began. “Cordelia and I were just discussing for what purpose you called us, in fact. Is there any danger?”

Tharja giggled and lowered her head, “No, no. Not any danger we didn’t ask for,” she hummed darkly. “There’s no need to be concerned for either of us. If anything, we only hope you might understand the brilliance of our romance~ Never before have either of us appreciated such… tranquility.”

Where Lucina was confused by Tharja’s dialect, Cordelia was somewhat more accustomed. She raised a brow questioningly, “That’s… interesting. But, speaking of Robin, where would she be?” Her smile returned with a memory in mind, “Flying here has made me especially nostalgic for those old days...”

Tharja’s amusement edged into a glare while her grin persisted. “You will meet with Robin soon,” she explained. With a step forward, she dismissed the shawl with her arms stretched outward, allowing it to flutter to the ground and leave her form exposed. Lucina and Cordelia gasped at what Tharja displayed, her body nearly-nude posed before them to be seen. Black lingerie painted her most appealingly; a bra that hugged back her pillowy bosom, underwear that clung by threads around her hips, and garters that maintained rich stockings that covered her legs from the thighs down. “For the time being,” she continued without disruption, “I would enjoy nothing more than for us to catch up~”

Lucina shuddered back a step, her mouth agape without anything in it to be said. Tharja’s undressing was a complete surprise that left her openly stunned, but Cordelia was astonished differently. She raised her chin in disgust and scowled at the sultry presentation. Her arms crossed in frustration, finding the act to be wholly uncalled for -- but both women were nonetheless painted crimson with their emotions, stuttering as Tharja showed herself.

“Th-Tharja…” Lucina both began and ended, looking up and down the impressive body.

“Is there any reasoning for this?” Cordelia scoffed, biting her lip with the waning thought that this appointment had importance. “Even for you, Tharja, this is quite… awkward. Pray tell that you didn’t call us over here just for this.”

Tharja was unbothered by the criticisms, seemingly enjoying the spitfire reaction from Cordelia especially. “Such a simple, small perspective…” she replied in a low chuckle. “I promised myself that if either of you could comprehend how momentous my body is, well… then I would consider this whole spectacle to be over. But,” she giggled again, “it seems I had nothing to worry about. Of course both of you would fail to respect a body such as this~”

Lucina and Cordelia were no less confused with the circumstance, their expressions stiffly unchanging as they observed Tharja’s fingers swirl and dance along her body with anticipation. The two leaned closer into one another as they listened to Tharja’s explanation, but Cordelia’s patience had been breached. Offended, she pushed the matter, “Spectacle? Respect? What are you on about, Tharja?”

“A-And… where is Robin, exactly?” Lucina still pondered, a finger at her lip. “Is she, er… aware of what’s happening…?”

Tharja cackled, “I do love to surprise her…”

Cordelia shook her head. “Enough of this game. If you wish to speak to us, then a modicum of manners is only fair to expect!” She uncrossed her arms with a sigh. “Let us leave, Lucina. This is just another of Tharja’s games--”

“It’s far too late to leave,” Tharja teased, her coldness putting a still to Cordelia’s movement. Fingers rolled in a dainty wave as Tharja’s eyes lit up with excitement, “I intend to be your eternal host~”

A second scoff was heard from Cordelia, but in the very next instant, both her and Lucina vanished. Where they stood remained only their intricate uniforms, left behind so spontaneously that the clothes had to still drop to the ground. Armor padding and weapons clanked loudly atop the square stretch of a rug they happened to be atop of, while the softer fabrics collapsed into puddles. A late perspective would have caught only Tharja alone, standing before two distinct messes of cloth.

Tharja keenly studied the pair of spots, delaying her movement so she could savor the moment. Her heart was ablaze, and she cast a hand over where it drummed to keep it controlled. With a gentle step closer, Tharja licked her lips and peered above the blue pile of clothes. She waited, and enjoyed every quiet second of what she observed.

From under the mound came a rustle, a mere bump of life that searched for an escape. From the neck hole of Lucina’s outfit appeared a nearly flea-sized figure, stumbling over the tiniest splits of threading. The wave of noble blue hair identified the person as Lucina herself, an abysmal fraction of her former height. The elegant and devoted princess, feared by anyone that crossed her blade, had been shrunk to a pathetic size, less than a centimeter tall and trapped within her own clothes. She was dumbstruck with the alien surroundings that encompassed all that she saw, as if teleported to a whole new land, but her surprise was magnified as she more intricately scanned the two mountains in front of her -- not soot-covered mountains, but two feet and their black leggings. The peak of these ankles alone would be a journey’s distance for Lucina, but those legs continued to stretch impossibly high into the heavens, farther than she could truly comprehend, but there was no doubting exactly who it was that towered above her, larger than Grima’s monstrous form ever stood.

“Th-This… Can’t be…” Lucina stuttered, her body falling pale under the unreal pressure exerted by Tharja. As she gawked upwards, her balance was lost and she fell backwards into the cloth. So overwhelmed was she that she never noticed her nudity, a natural result for having shrunk into her own clothes. “A-A trick… This is… a t-trick…”

Tharja giggled deliciously, the warmth of her desires rapidly filling the coldness innate with her. Her smile cracked, but she stayed in control, biting on her thumbnail in suspense. She bent forward, keeping her legs enticingly straight and long while she craned down to be above the helpless princess. Her body loomed immensely, but especially so regarding her chest, both globes swaying together with a leviathan weight that taunted Lucina’s belittled position.

Dark strands of hair were lifted aside, and a hand pressed back her bosom. Tharja hummed, “It feels now like I can properly introduce you to my home, heh-heh… Welcome~ Are you breath-taken? Shivering with fear?”

“Tharja!! Wh-What madness is this?!” Lucina barked gracelessly, hopping up and down to emphasize the words in her little voice. She soon collapsed to her knees, blown away by Tharja’s descent when the dark mage suddenly crouched before her. All of her bravery was rinsed in that moment, turning the proud princess into a cowering insect. With what little confidence remained, Lucina spoke up, “Th-This has to be reversible! This must be undone!”

Lucina’s begging was met with a blissful smile. “Oho, are those little squeaks… your voice?” she wondered. “Or are they your screams? In any case, you’re far too insignificant now to be heard. Perfect, hehe…”

The grim voice swept Lucina into shivers, her fingers flexing hopelessly towards where her sword would have been. Her instinct, as always, was to challenge this obstacle, but Tharja was beyond comparison to that of any foe she had faced before. Even the terrible dragon Grima was not so massive, and that was a monster that threatened to devour armies at a time. Simply comprehending the dark mage had left her stunned, a position that left her vulnerable to Tharja’s desires.

“Come here, you little speck~” Tharja giggled. Her hand reached out, hesitating only when the excitement made her twitch. The sprawl of fingers overwhelmed Lucina like an entire league of wyvern riders, the tips crashing down around her like artillery fire. Each digit was huge and wide, thicker than trees and moving far faster than Lucina could. She turned to run, but the wasteland of cloth offered her nothing; the obelisk fingers charged towards her in sync, ramming into her with only enough tenderness to pluck her away.

The winds rocked horribly as Lucina was elevated away, squirming and screaming in the clutch of just three fingers pressed all around her. When the movement ceased, she had to reevaluate the world and her perspective of it; all in front of her was a face the size of a courtyard, two humongous eyes sharply pointed onto her. She was imprisoned by a pinch, captured not like a princess or knight, but like a helpless bug picked off the ground.

“Eheheh…! You look absolutely maniacal…!” Tharja chuckled, her free hand stroking her cheek in delight with what she saw. The tiny Lucina flailed desperately between the pads of her fingers, her efforts barely enough to tickle. “I recommend saving your energy, Lucina. You’ll need it for later.

“Now, about that other one…” Tharja stood back to full height, casually keeping Lucina at chest-level as she twisted to the other pile of clothes. While she had been overjoyed to loom over Lucina, Cordelia had time to digest her situation and make a better attempt to flee. Tharja realized as much when she saw the little rumbling in Cordelia’s corset, the efforts of a rice-sized woman miserably trying to climb out of a cup of fabric.

Cordelia’s attempt ended in failure, defeatedly sliding down into the center of her underclothes. All of her struggles left her crawling in sweat, but she was jumped back into movement when a great thunder struck behind her. She scrambled forward, but was eventually compelled to gawk at what shadowed her existence. Her blood ran cold and her pupils shrunk; while scaling the view that was the titanic Tharja, Cordelia realized that a tremendous foot had been flung overhead.

“Th-This is impossible… No-- No, no!” Cordelia panicked as she felt the foot travel down after her, its size surely wide enough to encompass any path she tried to escape to. The heel soon touched the ground, not far from where Cordelia began her run, but it continued to flatten in a tantalizing descent. Tharja was just playing with her, but it was a game of very real danger to Cordelia, left cowering underneath toes that were the size of carriages.

These toes danced fluidly with Cordelia tripped beneath them, taunting her for being so weak. The foot was angled away, allowing Tharja to gaze down at her victim, much as the victim could stare back at her in awe. “Impressed?” Tharja rumbled, her smirk oozing with a confidence that rained over Cordelia. “You always acted so capable and brave, Cordelia. Where is that spirit now? Have you already accepted having become so inferior?”

Cordelia’s redness flared from embarrassment into rage. She jumped to her feet like a warrior with a second wind, ignoring her exhaustion as to push forward a fighting expression. “I’m not scared of you, Tharja! These tricks don’t work on me!” she screamed -- louder and shriller than she ever before spoke at anyone. Tharja’s amusement was unflinching. “I… I am the most talented flier in the Ylissean army! Th-This will not go unpunish-- eeeaaaiii!!”

All of Cordelia’s poise and passion was stripped as Tharja sat down onto her knees, each step of lowering herself causing an interrupting quake over the clothes. Cordelia’s fury was utterly ignored, too tiny to make an impression. Tharja towered in front of her, and so she was flushed back into fleeing, though it was all too late to try. The dark mage enjoyed watching the attempt for a time, but seconds into watching the little woman race across her clothes, Tharja intervened by pinching her just the same as she had done to Lucina.

Similar to before, Tharja wanted to closely examine Cordelia, doing so with spilling giggles. She kept Cordelia locked in the grasp between her thumb and forefinger, more than enough to keep her pinned with only her shoulders and up exposed. “So, so inferior~” Tharja lauded, a single eye used to scan over the shrunken soul. “You always were, but especially so now. Hehe…”

Cordelia used all of her strength to try and budge the fingers off of her, but they moved only to Tharja’s whim, and that whim was to torment her. When she was first relieved of the forefinger lifting off her back, it shifted instead so that she was pinned differently; her bare chest was flung to face upwards, making it a target for the broad tip of a finger to toy with. Cordelia shrieked and slapped the finger furiously, but Tharja touched to her heart’s fill, molesting the pegasus knight with such a simple and effortless motion. She was just grinding her fingertips together, yet Cordelia was violated and wounded, unable to prevent any of it.

“You must be boiling with anger~” Tharja assumed, correctly. “That itsy-bitsy chest of yours was laughable before, but now what are they? Humiliating? Shameful?” A particularly tight touch to her breasts made Cordelia pop into a yell, but to Tharja, it was an excitingly sudden squeak. “Ahh~ I must not be wrong, then. It’s only reasonable for you to feel outmatched, afterall.”

It became the focus of Tharja’s intent, that exact subject of superiority. She shifted her handling of both women so that they were dropped together in one open palm, strategically held adjacent to her right breast. It was a fantastical mountain to the two lowly spectators, a globe of immense weight that heaved gently to the tempo of Tharja’s expecting breaths.

“There you two are~ I could just lose track of you if I wasn’t… careful.” Every word of Tharja’s was spoken from bitten lips, her cool persona gradually fading into a warmer, lustful mood. Her heart throbbed to be holding two noble warriors in her palm, her fingers curled around them to further dwarf their diminished sizes. She watched as the duo scurried to one another, their sprint across her hand felt as minuscule prods along her skin until they met into a despairing embrace. Both heads cocked up at Tharja as her laughter crippled whatever hope they had left, “You two… You belong to me…! You can’t very well disagree with me, not while you sit in my hand, heh-heh…”

“Th-Tharja!!” Lucina yelled, unabashedly relying on Cordelia’s hug for support. It was the only way she could muster the courage to speak up to such an overwhelming foe. “Th-This has gone on long enough! At least explain yourself!”

“Wh-Where’s Robin?! Tell us, Tharja!” Cordelia added with her own shout. “Does your wife not realize what you’re doing to her friends?!”

Tharja giggled, “I do hope all that noise is in worship of your goddess. Is this how bugs pray for mercy? Hmhmm~” Once again, she ignored their pleas, her desires drawing her towards the luxurious lounge couch. Every footstep spurred a miniature earthquake that rattled the little bodies in her hand, a sensation she was not unaware of, but in fact savored. She had always sported exceptional power with her dark magic, but never before had she felt so dominant above others -- truly stricken with a sense of divinity, the off-handed tease of being a goddess continued to resonate with her.

Tharja politely perched herself on the couch’s end, relaxing into a seat with subtle motions that brought her captives closer to the nipple that rivaled their size. Before Lucina and Cordelia could compose themselves on her palm, she tilted them into a slide down onto her lap. Their meager weights plopped onto her smooth thighs one at a time, the softness of such skin making for a surprisingly painless landing. No less, however, were the two women terrified of what was to come, lifting their heads to discover a new setting surrounding them. Gone were Tharja’s tree-like fingers; they shivered upon a thigh that overlooked a river-like cleavage of flesh where her legs met, and ahead of them was the clear mound of her sex from which a wicked arousal brewed.

“Now that we’re all relaxed,” Tharja hummed, “let’s really dig into the fun I have planned. But who to begin with, hmm?” She gently held her head against a supportive palm while her eyes drifted from the red-headed dot to the blue-headed dot. While still coming to a conclusion, she tauntingly sucked on a pointer finger until it was coated well with her drool. Her grin curved sinisterly as she made up her mind; “Let’s start with you, Princess. I think Cordelia would be appreciate knowing what fate lies ahead of her, huhu~”

To this announcement, both women curled into one another protectively, but Lucina had nevertheless fallen pale for having been designated. Together, they watched as a behemoth finger hovered above them, the very same that Tharja had prepped with saliva. In the moment it descended upon them, the two attempted to split away, but both were overtaken by the poke, their bodies toppled by a single fingertip. Both roared in resistance, gripping the skin stubbornly however they could, but their minuscule forms were all too easy for Tharja to separate. With a swivel of her fingertip, she dislodged Cordelia from the stickiness, leaving her stranded atop the thigh while Lucina alone was abducted into the air.

Lucina had lost all grace and prestige; she was practically a stain, her noble blue hair splayed out messily across the round end of Tharja’s pointer finger. The adhesive of spit refused to let her even writhe in agony; she could only open her eyes and bare witness to the magnificent face breathing over top of her, assaulted by the lofty giggles that this goddess seemingly struggled to restrain. Lucina had been pitted against unfair perils before, but never had she felt so insignificant and feeble.

“We fought together so many times, Lucina…” Tharja said in her haunting tone. “I know you have a limitless spirit within you. I’ve thought of a very good use for that energy…”

Lucina despised being humiliated in this way, but the depth of which she would be shamed was only about to dawn on her. The sky warped away from her tiny perspective as the finger aimed itself elsewhere. When the movement was over, Lucina realized she was held lopsided, facing an earthy-yet-familiar texture -- she gasped, comprehending the rugged quality to be that of a human nipple. It stood mostly erect from the peak of Tharja’s boob, and her free hand made sure to emphasize that sternness by pressing into the flesh around it, accenting its outwardness.

The finger drifted closer, as did Lucina with it. With a great effort, Lucina snapped her head forward from the spit. “St-Stop!” she barked emptily -- it was a reaction, just a response from her throat to defend herself. “No, Th-Tharja, this can’t--!”

Impact; Lucina was smashed between fleshes, pressed against the firmness of the nipple with the power of Tharja’s touch forced into her back. A lungful of air was pushed from her chest as she was squeezed harshly against the surface, a grand pain that proved electrifying for Tharja’s enjoyment. She shivered upward with delight, her toes curling in excitement as she massaged Lucina further into her nipple. It began with just two fingers wrestling the princess up and down, but the momentum went on to include her whole hand, cupped over the breast in a bouncy grasp. Lucina sputtered with shouts in whatever windows she had to speak up, but Tharja’s moaning echoed over those cries, belittling the horror that was evoked.

All the while, Cordelia was left in utter awe, watching this monumental act from what she perceived to be a grand distance. She stuttered Lucina’s name in a vain prayer for her to be spared, but there was seemingly no mercy to be given by Tharja. The dark mage was not only the scale of a goddess, but in the headspace of being one, abusing her outlandish power for such a selfish and lewd profit. Cordelia’s whole body quivered unnaturally for a soldier of her stature; she had to wonder, What is Tharja going to do… with me…?

Breaking Cordelia from these dwelling thoughts was Tharja removing her hand from the breast. The flier shuddered into a gasp when she glared at the nipple; Lucina had vanished. Fittingly, there was a wicked chuckle that followed as Tharja’s attention shifted onto Cordelia.

“Lu-Lucina…? Where is she?!” Cordelia snapped, burning the last of her confidence in a splash of anger.

Tharja giggled, “Are you confused, Cordelia? Where do you believe Lucina has gone, hmm…?” A serpentine tongue licked her lips delightfully as she taunted Cordelia, and her hand again grabbed her breast, emphasizing its hugeness by having its shadow be cast over the little woman. Her smile cracked wider, “She’s inside~ She’s been devoured…! By my breast…!”

Cordelia fell silent under the darkness that was Tharja’s amusement as she chortled through her explanation. She could not believe it at first, that not only were her and Lucina shrunken by a close ally, but that Lucina had been ingested. When her eyes watched every sway and wobble of the fatty flesh above her, all Cordelia could imagine was Lucina’s perspective, struggling to comprehend the prison she was sentenced to.

That prison, specifically, was like an unseeable void. Inside Tharja’s breast was the pitch black to be expected, making Lucina blind to the flood of milk she was thrashing in. Pockets of air could rarely be appreciated before she was being flung elsewhere, mixed around in a viscous flood that was utterly uncaring of her. The heat drove her insane, but no strength behind her flailing could possibly overpower Tharja’s god-like body. She could only endure the torment that was Tharja massaging her breast, every touch and squeeze tackling the shrunken princess within.

Lucina’s suffering, however fantastical it was, went unseen. Cordelia stared deep into the breast, but she could barely fathom what she was experiencing. Unfortunately for her, there would be no reason to simply imagine such a thing, as Tharja’s smile seemingly forewarned that reality.

Cordelia turned and ran -- it was instinct to even attempt such a thing, despite knowing better. All she could flee towards was the end of the massive thigh she stood upon, and even this she failed to do, as a shiver down Tharja’s leg caused the flier to trip forward into the skin. This was not even an intentional attack, but a byproduct of Tharja’s arousal claiming her from top to bottom. The tickling, itching sensation of a woman desperately fighting inside her tit was launching her into a most heated mood, only able to prolong the inevitable uproar by delaying her excitement.

“You’re next~ Cordelia~” Tharja hummed, her head reclining far back against the lounge couch. She allowed Cordelia one last wind of effort to run away before deciding to retrieve her. A pinch of her fingers was all it required to immobilize Cordelia and have her hoisted away. To the shrunken victim, it was a sudden capture that was impossible to avoid, as two pillars of flesh spontaneously dropped around her in an unstoppable clench.

A clap of laughter rang over Cordelia’s efforts to wriggle free, her struggle managing to tickle the fingertips that bound her and nothing more. Tharja was enthralled with watching the tiny limbs spiral and smack against her skin, openly drooling to the fantasy that she would soon have this pathetically sized person trapped inside her. Such a nasty expression was in the small glimpse of light Cordelia could see from between the fingers, a face that she called and reached to, to no avail towards being set free.

“Yes, yes~ Do exactly that…! Fight as hard as you can, hehe…!” Tharja mocked, her free hand rising up and down her thigh in anticipation. “Lucina is trying so hard to break free… I’ll have you join her~ and maybe together, you can entertain me for, aheh… a little while…!”

“No, Tharja! A-Anything else…!” Cordelia cried in her best attempt yet to push herself out from the fingers, but it was no use. Suddenly, she was propelled towards her destiny, clinging to the very fingers she resisted as they hurled her up to the mountain that was Tharja’s breast. She was pointed towards it, the orange-pink of the dark mage’s nipple blinding her as it stood forward from a pool of pale skin. It imposed upon Cordelia like an epic foe, but as she were, naked and diminutive and defenseless, this lone nipple was guaranteed to dwarf her and her warrior’s spirit.

It rushed at her with a heartbreaking inevitably. Just as Tharja had with Lucina, she shoved Cordelia against the center of her nipple, pushing her in deep enough that the fatty flesh warped around her. Tharja giggled and shivered as she toyed with Cordelia like this, at one point lifting her breast high so that its weight could be dropped onto the tiny woman. More so than with Lucina, Tharja was particularly fast and unforgiving, her arousal having slipped her to a maddening edge.

“Go in now~ It’s your turn~!” Tharja sang as her hands worked like loyal puppets; her right hand massaged Cordelia into the nipple, while the left was trained on her crotch, a squeezing touch applied to her clitoris as she continued. Her next breath was a long gasp, her hips sliding forward down the lounge couch as her nipple swelled from the intrusion.

Before long, Cordelia had fallen past the point of return. Her minuscule form was absorbed, and the darkness that had been choking her down had opened into an uncanny cavern of wetness. Cordelia thrashed in a lake of milk, still raging Tharja’s name for what she had done to her, but such fury was washed away when the dark mage jostled her chest, creating unpredictable splashes that overwhelmed both Cordelia and her cries.

In her thrashing for survival, Cordelia had struck something unique from the milk and mammary walls; the body of Lucina, limp and drained as it floated to the whims of Tharja’s breast. Cordelia recognized her instantly and took the princess into her arms as best she could, but another shake of their world caused them to be swallowed into a vortex, consumed even further by the outrageous amount of milk.

“Ahha… Haa…” Tharja blinked and drooled with her mind phased into another reality. As her arousal melted between her thighs, she pictured vividly the details of Lucina and Cordelia trapped inside her. When she did, she playfully tossed her chest side to side, using only these twisting movements to spur new vigor within her victims. “Keep trying…! You pathetic bugs… have to keep trying, ahhah…!”

In a flinch, Tharja dashed into her conclusion. She tightly gripped her breast with her free hand while she reached an incredible climax, her lip bitten hard as she flowed freely from her crotch. Inside her breast, her grasp had caused a new swelling of waves to barrage her victims, their torture directly tied to her pleasure. In the aftermath, Tharja coyly stared at her nipple, grazing its hardness with a tender stroke of her fingers.

What a fulfilling amount of power…! Tharja congratulated herself. Two brave warriors, banished to the inside of my tit…! And there’s still more, more fun to be had…!

The doors to the chamber opened, but their sound did not startle Tharja. She had expected the arrival, having arranged for her to turn up shortly after the others had. Caught up in a mess of giggles and her legs stretched apart gracelessly on the lounge couch, she skipped a greeting entirely, choosing only to angle herself backwards so that she could peer at her wife, Robin.

“Tharja, dear?” Robin quietly entered, having walked into the chamber with her nose into a book. “I was told that we had company, but-- ah, uhm.” Only after she had closed the doors behind her did Robin look up to see Tharja splayed out the way she was, her eyes darting immediately to her bare chest and exposed crotch, noticing otherwise how reddened her skin was. Likewise did Robin herself start to blush, and so she chuckled nervously, “Am I… interrupting anything, dear?”

“Hehe~ Not at all, my love… You’ve come at just the right moment, in fact,” Tharja replied, her haunting tone unable to chill Robin at this point in their relationship. She closed her legs and kicked them onto the couch cushions, one knee drawn upwards in a tantalizing invitation for her wife. “My love… I want you. Now.”

Robin stuttered, but gently closed her book of tactics and set it aside. “You seem… eager,” she mentioned, taking the time to remove her coat and hang it. Tharja studied her every motion -- as usual -- and similarly did Robin observe her in return. She raised a brow curiously, “Is this related to the visitors we have?”

Tharja hummed, her arms and legs rolling with desire. “Come here~” she purred in place of an actual answer. She hid her nipples behind her palms, pushing the plushness of her chest together as to entertain Robin, as well as herself. “Don’t make me wait, Robin~ Don’t make me angry~”

Robin laughed and humbly nodded. “I won’t,” she agreed, hastening her approach to the couch with an ever-budding grin. She unbuckled her belt and stepped out of her boots, but with Tharja craving her so badly, it was in this half-dressed state that she clambered onto the couch and put herself above her spouse. Tharja’s devilish smile yearned to be kissed, and so Robin obliged, meeting her lips with her own, their tongues tasting one another in teasing trills.

Tharja’s fingers ran through the hollow-white of Robin’s hair, trailing through its warmth and undoing the tails it was in. Continuing down Robin’s back, Tharja tickled at her partner’s corset, undoing the threads with veteran expertise until it was loose enough to hang low. Robin returned the affection with strokes along Tharja’s slender waist while maintaining her position held over her, but Tharja wanted that distance closed; she pulled down on Robin’s ass with both hands clutching each cheek, demanding that Robin be pressed against her.

A bite into Robin’s neck electrified her into an interrupted breath, Tharja having lifted forward to latch her teeth just above her shoulder. She suckled on the skin, and when separated, left a whispery exhale over Robin’s right ear. Warmed by this gesture, Robin giggled and nuzzled into her wife, but then, her wrist was grabbed -- it was directed, taking her hand directly to a breast. No other words needed to be said between the two sweating bodies as Robin happily took part in what Tharja craved, fondling her breast with pushes and pulls and sensitive pinches.

They kissed again, but Robin’s eyes opened with concern. “... mm? Mm…” She broke from the kiss, compelled to study the breast in her hand. “... Dear, there’s… Is there something moving? I-Inside your…”

Tharja’s amusement was an instant response. Robin’s perplexed expression stoked her flames of arousal all over again, and in bubbly giggles, she stretched up to meet Robin in a hug that pressed their chests together. She kissed her collar bone before answering, “It’s an experiment… It’s a spell I learned…”

Robin blinked, figuring it had to be as much; it would not be the first time Tharja snuck magic into their antics. “What kind of spell is this?” Robin stroked the breast again, her thumb gently circling the nipple in particular. It was light enough to overlook, but there was undeniably little motions happening in the very peak of the breast. Robin began only unsettled by the feeling, but then grew more disturbed as she deduced, “Are our visitors… i-involved…?”

Tharja panted, turned hot by just this dialogue. In a surprise grab, she forced Robin’s hand harder into the breast, using the tactician’s weight to lift herself higher and put them at an even level together. Her smile overtook Robin’s vision, and then with a playful push, she had revolved their positions, putting Robin beneath her laid out on the couch. Robin gawked at the gorgeous body looming over her, pinned by two hands against either shoulder.

Tharja then leaned down into Robin’s ear, whispering a wind of words into it. “They’re inside me,” she giggled with a stammered breath, “Lucina… and Cordelia…! I shrunk them using dark magic… They became so tiny! And now our friends are trapped inside my tit…! That very tit you’re holding right now…! Do you feel them begging to be let out, dear…? Can you imagine the world they’re in…?”

Robin was agasp through this explanation. She stuttered in disbelief, but she knew better than to doubt the reality of Tharja’s power, the lengths she was willing to go to. But the image was hard to decipher in her head, the scene of Lucina and Cordelia being washed about in a chamber of breast milk. What had they been suffering through from just how she massaged Tharja’s chest? Not at all did Robin think that their foreplay would have such epic consequences for two trustworthy companions.

Yet worst of all, a detail neither Robin nor Tharja considered, was how aware the two victims were of their fate. Cordelia was the most conscious of the two, carrying Lucina amidst tidal waves of milk haphazardly splashing all around her. “Robin!” she shouted in what little air she had. “Stop her, Robin! You have to stop her…!” Every grope of the breast was a new assault on the two women, their well-beings at the mercy of Robin and Tharja’s sexuality.

Robin stared full of thought at the nipple, still registering what had happened. Her grip around the breast had loosened but not completely, her touch still warmly revolving around the globe. Tharja breathed heavily over her face, itching with excitement after having explained her horrible secret. Her smile was wide and savage, a droplet of saliva falling from over her lip.

“This is… This is wild, Tharja, even for you…” Robin replied. She tilted her head, then rose her face into Tharja’s chest, snuggling her cheek into the flesh. “How cruel… Hehe… Only a truly god-like dark mage would do such a thing.”

Tharja giggled energetically, pushing her chest outward around Robin’s head. She rocked against her until she was pinned back into the cushions, made submissive beneath her weight. Her hips rotated tantalizingly around Robin’s own, grinding into the gap between her thighs while her hands made a spectacle dancing through her raven hair and down her curves. Robin breathed harshly with such a pressure put over her, but her smile persisted; after so many years of being married to Tharja, wickedness such as shrinking their fellow Shepards was only another adventure to be cherished together.

The liquid world surrounding Lucina and Cordelia suddenly flushed with new movement. Their bodies toiled in the endless milk, splashing about in blind efforts, all because Robin’s hand squeezed the breast from outside. Every such touch concocted a new direction to swirl the unfortunate women, their souls and beings repurposed into becoming a magical thrill for a couple’s sex life.

And vigorously did the couple embrace each other, a distinct madness in the eyes of both women. Tharja pressed her lips hard into Robin’s, claiming her tongue in a pulling twist. Robin exhaled desperately out of Tharja’s mouth, claw-like fingers brushing through her white locks and down around her neck -- tightened there, just short of a strangle, her nails digging into the sensitive throat with a playful callousness. The trouble to breathe inspired further erotic emotions from Robin, whose attention was squarely on that of the one nipple, a bud of flesh that she understood was a cavernous eternity for two close friends.

Tharja removed Robin’s clothes with unrelenting force, tearing the fabric recklessly as to strip her chest out of the corset. Robin was always at Tharja’s will, her body manipulated almost as easily as those shrunken by her spell. A commanding smile from the dark mage was linked to Robin’s drumming heart, like a leash put around it, and it was with such dominance that Tharja leaned into her ear with a whisper, “Drink from me…”

Robin’s smile, subtle as it may have been, was an obedient reply. Her hands gently crawled to the bend of Tharja’s back and used her arc as support to lift forward, her face softly approaching the bare bosom. She nuzzled a cheek into the right breast, fondling her nose into the cleavage, but this teasing was unacceptable to Tharja -- her glare snapped and she surprised Robin by lifting her chin with a finger. Such a harsh dynamic was not new to either of them; Robin had to act away whatever smile she wanted to shed, playing the part well of being Tharja’s puppet. Without any other hesitation, she loyally licky the nipple, producing a pleasurable shudder down her wife’s spine as it lightly bounced from the wet touch.

Both paused willingly, jointly focused on the nipple with a silent but significant intrigue. In their quiet, they each imagined the consequences for Cordelia and Lucina, the unreal universe with which they were submitted to. A warm, creeping giggle melted the couple back into motion, and they continued to rock against one another, Robin’s face gradually pressed deeper into the soft breast.

The heat of their passion manifested in its own torturous fashion for those locked inside the nipple. A rising temperature did more than just usher more panic onto Cordelia and Lucina, depleting from them far more than either realized right away. Cordelia felt the unique stinging all over her skin, and Lucina was stirred awake by the burning. A secondary aspect of Tharja’s unusual spell was taking place: the two women were being digested into the breast milk, becoming one with the creamy waves. Every grope of Tharja’s breast, every pinch of the nipple advanced this gruesome process. Desperately did the duo swim to the sides of their prison, smacking at the walls while still resisting the tackling tides. They screamed for Robin’s help, for either of their two gods to spare mercy.

Robin’s giggle reverberated through their world, as her lips were snug against the flesh at that moment. “I think I hear them,” she claimed tepidly. Her eyes traveled from Tharja’s chest up to her obsessed gaze. “They have such tiny screams… How small did you…?”

Tharja fumbled with little laughs. “Specks,” she answered happily. Her redness deepened, “Like motes of dust… and they’re becoming even smaller. Like droplets… Droplets of my milk…”

Robin kissed the nipple; the most initial leak of wetness excited her taste buds, and her grasp on the boob tightened with desire. As though addicted to that sweet flavor, Robin rapidly stroked the nipple with curls of her tongue, dancing with its shape to the melody of Tharja’s delight. The dark mage wanted more, and so she pulled Robin by the throat tighter into her chest, manually moving her head to her own rhythm. The moment they were leading to was to be an ultimate peak for Tharja, the combined satisfaction of climaxing alongside her lover, and to cherish the success of another magical test.

Tharja’s body loosened into shivers that tickled Robin’s body, wetness seeping from her crotch as she soared into an orgasm. Simultaneous to her moan of pleasure did Robin’s tongue achieve what it had sought; streams of milk erupted from the nipple and into her mouth, amounting only to droplets that the tactician yet appreciated like a full-fledged worshipper. These little mouthfuls more than pleased Robin, perpetually licking for more and more, until the sweetness was enough to set off her own climax underneath Tharja’s weight.

Robin licked her lips, boasting a confident expression while Tharja watched. The tensions of sex was fading, but the soreness was itself a beloved part for the couple. Tharja’s posture relaxed and she slid back along the lounge couch, cuddling between its back and Robin’s post-love strokes. The afterglow of sex was stronger than usual, brightened by the significance of what had occurred; no longer were Lucina and Cordelia of this world as humans, but their existences refined to that of milk, a meager amount that Robin had casually swallowed.

“Mm, I want a taste, too... “ Tharja whined, maneuvering herself into a kiss with Robin. Her tongue dragged along the corners of her lips, hunting out the remaining flavor of her own milk. She giggled devilishly, “It’s… incomparable, isn’t it? The taste of two human souls, eheheh…”

Robin nodded into Tharja’s chest and stroked her sides tenderly. “Nothing can ever compare to what you do, my love,” she dreamily remarked, a drop of sweat descending her brow. As hot as she was, Robin still cuddled into Tharja’s own warmth, and in the position she was in, her lips naturally rounded around the nipple again. As she suckled the tit, Tharja returned the affection with loving caresses through her wife’s hair, biting her lower lip as more of her milk seeped from herself.

Thara’s dark powers proved again to be unlike anything else. Two of Ylisse’s proudest warriors were instantly diminished to an impossible size, only to be digested in breast milk and fed to their own friend. As wicked as the evening was, it was but one engagement for the couple, and they fantasized further of where else to use such a spell as they retired to their bedroom, seeking out more ways to liven the night.