Ada’s first task was very much expected; she was to deliver a letter
written by Lady Melinda, Richwood’s right hand, to one of the dealers of
magical trinkets in the region’s western end. Lady Melinda might have been an
important person, but the letter involved no serious matter. These smaller
errands were to get Ada going, test her, and Ada expected to be running lowly
tasks in the beginning.
The first day of travel took them out of the crowded Richwood capital
and into the outlands. Henry had been on Ada’s shoulder, holding onto her hair,
and whenever there was anything notable in the distance or signs to read, he’d
help her. He would be her eyes, like he promised. Now with Henry officially her
slave, a magical mark had been placed on him, one which would glow when
presented to a document in Ada’s possession. A similar document existed in the
Richwood archive, and as long as Ada had something carrying his scent, even
parts of her body Henry clung to, the Richwood hounds could track him down.
That service would cost, however, but he knew Ada would exhaust every option to
get him back. That notion made him feel strangely adored. He was everything Ada
had at this point.
However, sitting on Ada’s shoulders and holding her hair while guiding
her through the countryside was far from captivity. Thoughts of how to escape
wasn’t on Henry’s mind. He didn’t know where his future lay; he would take the
days as they came. Somehow, he found pity for Ada. One thing was true, Henry
going off on his own wouldn’t bode well for him in Gintessa; the border wasn’t nearby
for his small legs. And if they worked together, it would help them both. They
hadn’t properly confronted and explored the emotional end to their episode in
the arena, with Ada dejected in the shower, apologizing to him. Henry could
feel a difference, however.
Long farmlands of giant barley and wheat stretched to their sides. As a
human in Gintessa, being unobtrusive was no difficult task. From Ada’s shoulder
Henry regarded the passersby on the roads, feeling small at the sight of so
many giants, and even the most innocent civilian who’d never seen combat could overpower
an entire village of humans. Henry urged Ada to ask one of the passing wagon
drivers, pulled by the greatox, if she could ride at the back. Ada was
surprisingly shy to other giants. When she finally got to doing it, the second driver
she asked accepted and let her on.
Ada lay against the side of the wagon, near a group of waterfowl locked
in coops. She wore a plain brown sleeveless daydress provided to her from the
barracks, the Richwood emblem embroidered under the collarbone. The hems
reached just above her knees, and her yellow-brown hair fell over her
shoulders, blanketing Henry. Henry himself wore a pair of simple trousers and
nothing else.
“It’s beautiful,” Henry mumbled, staring over the golden fields of
rapeseed. With an awkward stutter, he realized Ada couldn’t see it so well with
her injured eyes.
She placed the backpack beside her and dug for some hard oatcakes,
washing the bites down with water. Ada let Henry down to sit, giving him crumbs
which more than filled his belly.
“Is that good? Just tell me if you need more.”
“It’s more than fine, thank you,” Henry said. He kept waiting for a
signal, an order for worship. He waited for Ada to arrive. But it didn’t come.
She repositioned and fed him humbly, fingers treating him with care he wasn’t
used to. Sitting modestly beside her shoulder and being so near her face was a
new perspective, a modest shame which, despite their history of wild debauchery,
brought a strange intimacy. Henry saw her differently.
They were on the wagon for two more hours until they split course with
the driver.
Ada bowed down. “I’m sorry, miss, but like I said, I have nothing to
thank you with.”
The lady chuckled and waved the notion away. “And like I said, I don’t
need anything. It cost me nothing. You just be careful, young lady. And don’t
sacrifice too much for…” Her eyes went to the emblem on her dress.
“I understand. Thank you.” They parted ways, Ada heading down the road
where it was smaller and less traveled, through the woods. A few hillocks
emerged here-and-there, the land becoming less and less flat.
“What’s your plan now?” Henry asked. He tried to sound genuinely curious
rather than questioning.
“Climb up the ranks. That lady said I shouldn’t sacrifice myself for
this, but there aren’t many other options. I know I’ll be running errands, but
I’ll have to be opportunistic, take any chance I can. I’m just taking the days
as they come. I’m on the bottom right now.”
Henry peered at the lightning-like ramification around her neck, eight
in total, eight years left. “Will things get better after your offgiant status
is gone?”
“Better, yes. But…” She paused, needing that extra clumsy second to
identify the root bulging out from the road as she stepped over it. “It’s more
than just offgiants and pure giants. Magic is highly valued. That’s what giants
respect the most in humans, which they don’t like to admit. You probably know
this, but humans have potential for magic, a natural connection to it. Even if
you haven’t trained it, the natural potential is strong in and of itself. When girls
are turned to offgiants, the power from that potential is used to fuel the
transformation. Your ability to train magic vanishes. If you weren’t a mage before
transformation, you’ll never be one post transformation. Pure giants, who are
born from a giant having mated with a human, they’ll inherit the potential from
the human father. So, loosely speaking, the ranking goes: giants who have
affinity for magic first, then giants who don’t, and offgiants at the bottom.”
“You weren’t a mage when you were transformed?”
Ada shook her head lightly. “I had no training then, now it’s impossible.
So my opportunities will be limited.”
“Hey.” Henry tapped her shoulder. “You’ve got me.”
She smiled, a restrained one, tarnished with a tinge of guilt. Ada
walked for many more hours, the sun lowering towards evening. Priority shifted
towards finding a good place to sleep. Using the emblem on her dress would be a
viable way to find lodging with someone, showing she was on a Richwood errand.
However, Ada wished to impress, not wanting to demand resources. The minor
things might build up her profile. She preferred to find a nicer place
outdoors, and after an hour she arrived at a stream near a foothill, where the
water tinkled calmly in small glistening lumps over the stones. Ada set down
the backpack. She was going to let Henry down, but he summoned the base magics
and jumped down himself. Ada let herself collapse against a massive tree, one
extended breath signaling her resignation for the day. Henry couldn’t share the
feeling.
“I’m sorry,” Henry said, half smiling. “I didn’t do much today, just stood
on your shoulder.”
“It’s fine,” Ada said. “You were my eyes when I needed them.”
“It’s not that I like being inactive. Getting a break after these weeks
is welcome, but it feels wrong someway to not have done much. I haven’t gotten
to practice in a while.”
Henry sat down and shut his eyes, meditating. For a while, they sat to
the harmonious sound of the tinkling stream and songbirds. The sun descended
beneath the horizon of treetops. Henry heard Ada move, heard water splash, and
opened his eyes. She was by the stream, refilling her waterskin, drinking, washing
her face. Then she sat down and dipped her feet in, working the dirt off with
her fingers.
“Can I ask,” Henry said. “When Leeman mentioned this miracle stone, this
island off to the southeast with free giants, it really caught your attention.
Do you believe in any of it? He didn’t seem like a liar.”
“I don’t think he lied either. He says what he believes, or what he’s
heard. I’m just not sure. This miracle stone as well, returning my eyes back to
normal, of course it’ll take my attention. I want it to be true. It might be,
this fable of a miracle stone, but I’m sure with all these powerful factions
around, someone else would have gotten to it before me. The best he had was
‘somewhere under the mountains’, so if it exists it’s as powerful as it is hard
to find.”
“Hmm.”
“Do you want me to believe in it?”
“I want there to be hope, for bettering things.”
“Like I said, head hanging low and following orders, but opportunistic if
the chance comes.” Ada retreated to the tree, stretching her legs out. Her
right foot ended up noticeably close to him. Henry couldn’t find his focus,
hearing the joints pop as she flexed her toes. The long, round digits rubbed
against one another, and then the left foot shuffled over and rest over the
right, rubbing it.
Eventually, when Henry realized how unnatural the movement seemed, it
was as if he snapped out of a spell. He looked up and saw her smirking at him.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, Henry, but my feet are aching terribly after
all the walking today. You wouldn’t mind rubbing them, would you?”
“Of course not,” Henry said. “I’ve got to make myself useful somehow.” The
left foot returned to its place, the right one waiting expectantly, lying on
its side. Henry put his hands to either side of the big toe and got to work.
With the arms he pressed inwards, and with the fingers he kneaded. Her long and
bulbous toes required a lot of work, but Henry had the energy in him after a
day of doing nothing. When Henry felt like he’d worked the head of her toe
properly, he moved down along the base. There was no response from her end, a
glance up revealing she had closed her eyes, leaning back against the tree in complete
relaxation. Henry thought she’d want to take it further, just like in the wagon,
just like throughout the day, and he even felt his manhood stir, wondering if
he should sneak a few kisses in. But she said nothing, and he remained
dutifully to massaging. He also removed fragments of grass and leaves and
branches, mercilessly crushed and abducted by these fleshy vehicles.
Henry continued and finished her five toes off, then moved to the ball
of her foot. They were noticeably tougher and unyielding, and Henry decided to
use his base magics. His skin shimmered steadily with golden light as he now
had the strength to easily make the rough flesh yield to his muscles.
A light hum escaped her. “Good thinking. Don’t hold back, it’ll take a
lot before it starts hurting.” Henry proceeded with the base magics, not the
arts, and hugged the width of her sole and worked inwards, from the ball of her
foot to her heel. At the heel he required more strength, his elbow like a
giant’s fingertip as he jabbed and held it pressed, rotating with the shoulder.
The toes flexed. “I can feel the difference between my feet.” Ada’s
voice was low, eyes closed still. “Both of them were aching terribly, but it’s
like you swept the pain away from the right one, and it’s like the left foot has
been borrowed from some wearied worker.”
Henry took that as the cue to move to the other foot. There he repeated
the massage, starting from her toes. When he was halfway down the sole, Ada
murmured a quiet, satisfied phrase.
“I’m surprised you didn’t say something sooner,” Henry said. His heart
beat faster as he decided to breach the subject. “It’s… been a stark contrast
to the Ada I’m used to.”
“I… I’ve felt sorry for what I’ve put you through. It just didn’t feel
right to keep on it. And don’t you remember what I said in the shower? I was
like that because I had nothing, and I thought I’d never get anything, so I
pushed hard when I had the chance. But now it’s different, I know you’re with
me. I’m not like that all the time.”
Despite having always wanted more reflection from Ada, Henry felt
strangely disappointed. “I understand. But think back to what we said. You felt
guilty, you asked me if I really enjoyed it myself, and I said yes. I wasn’t
lying either.”
“So…” She pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “If that’s true,
why haven’t you worshipped me yet?”
“Uhm, I’ve awaited your signals. I’m the slave in this relationship.”
Ada chuckled. She leaned forward, her hair falling forward. “Let’s make
one thing clear, my sweet little Henry. There will never be a time where you
start worshipping me, and I say no.”
Henry had never found her more attractive.
“But in case it needed to be said, my slave, it is simply unacceptable
for you to spend that much time near my feet and not use your mouth at all. Now
how will you remedy this problem?”
The role came so naturally to Henry, as he kneeled and put his fist
against his chest. “By devoting my undying worship to my mistress and ensure I
have touched every single inch of her soles with my tongue.”
Ada leaned back, and the smile wasn’t overly eager and lustful. It had a
restrained, content nature, still in her role. “Then get to work, slave. And take
off your pants.”
Henry pulled and kicked those darn things off before rushing off to her
left foot, casting himself at her toes. He started at the bottom end this time,
from the pinky toe, grabbing the little digit with his mouth and kissing it
passionately. While he did so he rubbed the bottom of the toe with his hands,
his naked front pressed into her sole. As he moved up the row of toes, Henry
spied between the gaps and saw the expression on her face, the rhythmic waves
of pleasure visualized. It made him feel connected to her entire body, that his
mouth, through the surface of her toes, was truly reaching her whole being.
“Massage, worship… These feet can cross all of Gintessa without a single
complaint if they get this daily pampering.”
“And they will,” Henry said in between his kisses on the third toe. Ada
saying what she did filled this task with meaning beyond just sensual pleasure,
a meaning which filled the dissatisfaction Henry had with not doing much
throughout the day. He realized how he was systematically sucking, kissing, and
biting all the ache and tire out from her feet. This contributed to their
journey. He was thanking these toes for carrying him. They were indeed tougher
and more leathery than their lotion-soft state back in the marble room of the
arena, but Henry didn’t mind. In a way, her pristine state back then felt too
perfect, their silky texture too flawless. Henry liked them in their travelworn
state more, for he felt that his worship meant something, helping them recover.
“I know you enjoy worshipping me, but you seem to have a special
attachment to my feet.”
Henry sucked on the nub of her second toe and released with a kiss, then
shrugged. “I don’t know. Without you, I probably wouldn’t be like this. Your
feet specifically, your toes, they’re just perfect.”
Ada put a hand to her chest, fluttering her eyebrows in exaggeration. “You’re
making a girl blush. But I don’t buy that. You think if it was any of your two
other friends, they’d ever do what you’re doing now?”
“Hmm, probably not.”
“You’ve always had it in you. I might have triggered it, unleashed it,
but Henry has always had a naughty side within him.”
Henry took a pause now. “I also think… Around Rennard and Milton, or in
general, all three of us wouldn’t behave in certain ways around each other. I
think different sides to all three of us would emerge if we were alone.”
“So they’re off somewhere now, worshipping another giant’s foot?”
“Probably not.” The notion made Henry smile at first, though it faded
quickly, and a crestfallen air followed.
“What’s wrong?” Ada noted his inaction.
“I just started wondering where Rennard and Milton are now.”
“Oh.” The mood spread to her. “Shouldn’t have mentioned them. I’m sorry,
I really was an idiot back then.”
Henry waved his hand at her. “Don’t think about it. Someone else came
along and kidnapped them, a slaver of some sort. I think they ended up in the
hands of a Grey Rhino commander, someone called the Charmer. I put the blame on
them when I think about what separated us.” He wondered if Ada believed that
lie, because Henry certainly didn’t. Deep down he assigned blame onto Ada as
well, justly so, for starting the chain of events leading to the boys splitting
up. And Ada likewise was probably cursing Rennard’s name whenever the
inadequate sight troubled her in her daily life. It was the great ghost hanging
over them, whose existence they didn’t wish to acknowledge. Dwelling on those
things now wouldn’t lead anywhere good.
Henry wanted to restore the atmosphere to what it had been. His target
was her big toe, more specifically, the inner bottom quadrant of the bulbous
digit, her H-spot. Henry captured the fluffy flesh with his mouth and chewed on
the portion named in his honor. From its relaxed position her foot twitched with
a yelp.
Ada laughed. “You naughty little thing.” Henry wrapped his arms around
the throat of her toe, like one holds onto a lover, and made out with her big
toe. From forehead down to chin, Henry buried his face into the plump flesh
like a puppy snuggling against his owner, mouth constantly at work. A good
minute of his face and her big toe locked in an unseparated snuggle ensued.
Then, Henry heard shuffling, movement. Parting from her big toe, he saw how Ada
had pulled the daydress up over her waist and lowered her beige panties. He
realized it was his first time seeing her with panties. The pussy he knew well
was free and on display, glittering with moisture.
A force pinched Henry’s back. It was the toes of her other foot, yanking
him away to itself, as if her feet were two distinct lovers jealously wanting
him for themselves. Henry ensued his lovemaking with the toes of her other foot.
The swishy flutter of the branches above could be heard, Ada writhing against
the tree. Her moans, the visible lumps of cum coalescing on her pink lips, they
were like the dry coal thrown onto the fire that was Henry’s energy. They made
his tongue more accurate, diligent, the angles from which he approached her
toes more creative. It felt as though he were pushing buttons controlling the
waterworks of her womanhood, the causality between his mouth on her toe and the
excretion of her liquids very direct.
One of her moans persisted, and a tiny stream shot out from her pussy.
With the foot Henry wasn’t worshipping, Ada kicked the panties down further,
sending them to the ankle where Henry was. Ada masturbated while Henry kept
delivering his symphony of measured tongue to her toes, arriving to the H-spot
of her big toe, and Ada squirted impressively. She shot all the way past her
extended feet, her three fingers circulating around her clit and sprinkling
more of it out. When it subsided, she had a moment of pause, so did Henry. He
thought she was done, lazily leaning against the tree and not bothering to
adjust.
“Henry. Come here, quickly.” She said it from her near passed-out disposition,
her index pointed straight to her pussy. Henry jogged dutifully between her
legs, his steps squelching in cum-soaked soil. Between the hallway of her naked
legs, her enormous, swollen pink mouth gaped at him, hungry.
Upon arrival, Ada leaned forward and reached, closing her fingers around
Henry. Ada inserted him until his legs were inside, then released. Henry had to
flex his core to stay upright. Past her pink nub, the large bosom, he saw her
raise an eyebrow with teeth biting the lower lip. He could hear her voice in
his head: ‘Do I really need to give a command?’
No, she didn’t. Henry crunched up to reach her clit and started with
kissing, a few deep ones, peppering several quick ones in between, all the
while his arms were swimming, massaging her lips. Now he didn’t need to look
over, her head always in the periphery of his vision, and he noticed her head
rear back with an airy exhale. He worked her up, teasing her with kisses and
smooth massage. His arms glided effortlessly over the lubricated lips. Then the
tongue action came, lapping away like a dog. All the moisture his tongue
collected, he swallowed, letting himself be nourished with her bodily
secretions. Ada’s lower abdomen spasmed, her breath quivering. Henry stole a
glance backwards, saw her massive legs and the toes at the end curling, turned
back up and took in the sight of her round bosom behind the daydress and the
stray strands of her yellow-brown hair falling over her forehead. It all
completed a very womanly picture which further turned Henry on, a sense of awe
mixed in, how he could sensually overpower this massive, earth-shattering
animal with his mouth alone.
“Your mouth…” Ada gasped, head craned back. “It is magic. A magic mouth.
I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.”
One might think Henry tried to devour her clit by how he stuffed it into
his mouth. Ada yelped the beginning of a scream, cutting it short with a
swallow-like reflex. A hand came up to her lips, keeping the noise behind
closed lips. There were no certainties others didn’t live nearby. Her vaginal
walls were tight around Henry’s legs, ensuring this delicious human treat would
never go free.
A first drizzle of squirt dripped on Henry’s face, interrupting him
first, but he immediately rushed back in and doubled his efforts when realizing
she was getting there. He slurped and sucked, massaged and kneaded, and Ada rocked
back and forth where she sat. The squirt shot out, Henry having to recoil back
to let it pass overhead or it might shoot him out with it. Unavoidably however,
plenty washed over his torso and face. Henry shut his eyes, swallowed and spat
whatever entered his mouth, tried to maintain balance in the convulsing fits of
Ada’s movement, and relentlessly pushed on like a soldier, his mouth returning
to her clit.
In the rainstorm of squirt, the minute felt like an hour, until Ada’s energy
died down. Her liquids stopped. Henry fell back with a deep breath, his torso
hanging out of her pussy. The cum literally dripped off his head and hands, able
to feel the streamlets coursing down from all around his torso.
He could push himself out with relative ease, her pussy bloated and
relaxed. Henry fell into a pool of cum, one of many. Ada seemed knocked out,
her waist bent a bit sideways as she now lay down fully, past the tree. Henry’s
manhood was raging, he too needed release. He marched down between her legs,
the grass drenched. Henry got on his knees by her left foot and buried his face
into it. He inhaled and kissed while mashing his face onto the creamy sole, pumping
his manhood, and it took literally a few seconds before he shot his own load
into the grass. He produced quite a lot, yet as a contribution to the total
pool of cum around it was nothing but a drop in the bucket.
Henry lay down, her pinky toe serving as pillow. He lost himself to the
sight of the starry skies above, and coupled with the utter relaxation of his
collapse, Henry thought he had left the earth, drifting hazily through the
skies and towards heaven. It was the most peaceful transition to sleep Henry
might ever know.