Vann looked down at the dusty scroll he’d dredged up from
the basement of the town’s library. He held his hand out, muttering the words
of power and feeling his magic flow through him. There was a brief glow over
his palm, then his heart leapt as there was a spark, but then it fizzled out,
leaving the darkened basement lit by a single lamp once more.
He started as the door opened, dust falling from the rafters
as light outlined the figure walking down the stairs. He peered up, the light
stinging his eyes, and grimaced as he saw the pointed elven ears surrounded by
long blonde hair.
Eletha, he thought miserably, trying to sink into the
shadows. The elf was the last person he wanted to see.
She spotted him, and a smug smirk crossed her face, “Oh look,
it’s the runt, trying to dredge up magical secrets?” She snapped her fingers,
and a fireball, much like the one he’d tried to conjure, popped into existence,
lighting her way as she walked down a row of bookshelves.
“Just trying to see if there’s anything that could help,” he
muttered.
She just snorted, “you’re pathetic, you know that?” she
seemed to find the volume she was looking for, sliding it off the shelf and
turning back to him. “It’s already kind of funny how many humans try to be
mages, but at least most of them can conjure up a lightning bolt or summon an
imp or something…” She gestured at him, “how long have you been calling
yourself a spellcaster? Most people would have moved on by now.”
“I’m still trying to figure out a specialty,” he said
defensively.
Eletha giggled, walking over to his table and leaning over
it, glancing down at the scrolls he was reading with an amused expression.
“The problem,” she said, walking her fingers playfully over
the parchment, “isn’t understanding, or comprehension, you’re human, but you
don’t seem…” she shrugged, “well, let’s just say your brain isn’t what’s
holding you back… it’s your magic, you simply don’t have much, and you never
will.” She gave him a mocking smile, “I can see why you don’t give up this dream
though… it’s not like you can fall back on those usual human gifts of brute
strength, can you?”
He burned with rage, but she was right. Elves like Eletha
were short, but at 5’ 3” she had a good two inches on him, to say nothing of
his… well he liked to say he had a lithe physique, Eletha called it scrawny.
“I’m a mage!” he insisted angrily.
“OH!” she laughed, “I love how squeaky your voice gets when
you’re mad…” she reached out and stroked his smooth cheek, gently brushing his
black bangs aside before he could swat her hand away, “you know Vann, you could
always try work at the tavern, I’d give a cutie like you plenty of tips…”
“Get out of here!” he shouted as loudly as he could. The elf
just giggled, practically skipping back up the stairs with her book. He fumed
at her as she went, collapsing back into his chair and giving the scrolls a
defeated look.
…
Vann halfheartedly walked through the town gates towards the
cabin he lived in out in the woods. He couldn’t afford to live inside the walls
of Sweetwort, the little frontier town nestled in the kingdom’s northern
forests, but it wasn’t like he had much to steal anyways.
“Ah Vann, another day of research?” a rich baritone called.
He turned to see Sir. Chadwick, one of the town’s resident knights. His pearly
white teeth shone as he walked up to Vann, his broad armored shoulders gleaming
in the evening light as his cape billowed slightly behind him. With a square
jaw and perfect blonde hair, Sir Chadwick made an odd sight next to Vann, a
statuesque hero next to… well, a scrawny nobody.
“Yeah,” he said with a weak smile, “I’m sure I can get a
proper fireball going pretty soon.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Sir Chadwick laughed, “I wish I could
make heads or tails of sorcery, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time, but…” he
bit his lip, embarrassed, “You have the soul of an adventurer, I’m sure of it,
if you want some lessons in swordplay… you know where I can be found.” With
that he gave a smile and a nod and started towards the inn, no doubt to meet a
legion of pretty young women who would swoon over his tales of chivalry.
Vann sighed, watching him go, a sword? Me? no, he
didn’t have the strength for it, it was magic or nothing. He knew Chadwick had
meant nothing mean by it, and that was the worst part about Sir Perfect, he was
so gods damned nice, but the interaction still rankled him. He continued
out into the woods, dark thoughts clouding him as he made his way to his cabin.
“Hey roomie!” Tyra bellowed as he walked in. He sighed as he
saw the dark-skinned girl with her booted feet propped on his table again,
leaning back casually as she balanced a knife on her fingertip. “What’s for
dinner?” She flicked a loch of her short dark hair out of her eyes,
concentrating on the blade. With a skillful flick of her wrist it flipped
through the air, her hand darted out catching it in its sheath perfectly.
Tyra was a knight, and one of his oldest friends. The two
had come to Sweetwort together after they’d come of age and been kicked out of
the orphanage in the city of Tarport far to the south. The idea was that they’d
become adventurers, stake a claim on the wild frontiers, and make a fortune
together. Tyra had squired alongside Sir. Chadwick, quickly becoming skilled at
arms, even if she relied on speed more than strength. Vann was still…
struggling.
“Potatoes and chicken,” he muttered sullenly.
She frowned, “Come on! You made that last night!”
“It’s what I have!” he said defensively, “I’m sorry, I don’t
make a lot of money trying to figure magic out!”
Tyra eased her boots off the table, frowning, “I’ll buy us
some different stuff, if you want” she said quietly.
“No,” he grumbled, “I… I ask you for too much coin as it
is.” He sighed.
“Have you thought about maybe trying a mage academy?” Tyra
asked.
“I don’t have enough money or strength for it, I’d never
pass exams,” he said, burying his face in his hands, “I only have the slightest
bit of magical power… only a little more than a common person.” He focused
intently, snapping his fingers and scowling when, instead of a spark, a simple
roll of white smoke drifted up from them.
“Well, I’m not that strong,” Tyra said with a
friendly smile, “but I still make the knight thing work… I’m sure it’s the same
with you, it’s a matter of technique and training.”
“I hope so,” he groaned. I can’t let Tyra know how close
I am to giving this up… we were supposed to be adventurers together.
“Hey,” she said with a smirk, “if it’s any consolation I was
pretty sure I’d be the one living off your gold when we moved here.” She
stood up, kicking her boots off and revealing a pair of bare feet that preceded
a foul musty odor.
He wrinkled his nose, “can’t you leave those outside?”
“In a minute,” she said, taking off her belt and putting it,
and her knife, on the table, “come here, I want to try this sweet takedown I
learned from a city guard…”
His eyes widened, “no way! And besides, aren’t most of the
people you fight way bigger than me?”
“You’d pass for a big goblin,” she insisted, “now come over
here!”
He turned to run, already knowing it was pointless, and a
moment later the giggling girl was on him. He grunted as his arms were pinned
to his sides, and the world blurred as she pulled him in a suplex flip over her
body. He grunted as he flopped on the ground, thankfully on a soft fur rug
they’d laid down, and he groaned in a mix of mild pain and surprise as he
turned over. A brown skinned foot darted out, pinning him to the rug, and he
groaned again at the rank smell of Tyra’s boot-feet.
“Pretty sweet, huh?” she gushed, “not super practical, but
if I’m unarmed and a goblin is rushing at me boom!” she clapped her hands
together, pressing down with her foot on his chest slightly and causing him to
grunt. “Of course for a real enemy, I’d put my boot on their neck,” she said,
eyeing him. A mischievious grin crossed her face, “kiss it!” she demanded,
moving her foot closer to his face.
“What!?” he muttered, moving his face away, “no! Cut it
out!”
“Come on,” she pouted, making a fake kissing face, “my
foot’s a princess! Give her a kiss.” She made smooching sounds. Finally
realizing he had no way out of it, Vann sighed and kissed her foot, causing her
to giggle. She stepped off him, leaning down to help him up. “Hey,” she said,
giving him a quick clap on the shoulder, “you can get me back with a spell once
you figure them out, deal?”
“Deal,” he muttered, staring off into space.
“Sorry,” she muttered, “I’ll make dinner, why don’t you just
go relax?”
…
Vann lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling of the cabin.
From across the room he heard the snoring of Tyra in her own cot, and with a
sigh he sat up. He couldn’t sleep, and he slipped his shoes on to go for a
quick walk. Tyra wouldn’t like him going out alone at night, “it’s a damn
frontier town!” she’d insist, but he didn’t want company… and if a rogue
monster ate him today, well that would just be fine.
He savored the cool air coming off the mountains, looking up
at them in window as they were silhouetted against the starlit sky. So much was
out there waiting to be discovered, lost tombs, ancient ruins… but he’d never
see any of it. He sighed, sitting on a large boulder and just staring up for a
time.
“If any of the gods are listening,” he muttered, “I need… I
need to be more than what I am.” His eyes lit up as a shooting star went by, an
omen? He wondered. He stood up and cleared his throat, on the off chance a
divine was listening, “in fact, I know I could do good and advance the
will of any divine that would have me, if I was just given the chance!”
A dozen more shooting stars passed overhead, and he felt a
buzz, that same familiar feeling that was in the tips of his fingers when he
manifested the smallest of sparks and smoke, but over his whole body. A pink
orb manifested in front of him, floating quietly through the forest.
“D-Do I follow?” the orb seemed to stop, waiting for him. “I
guess that’s a yes,” he muttered, sliding off the boulder. He slowly walked
through the woods as it led him through a path that seemed to clear in the
forest before him. He watched in awe as root and vine and tree parted for them
like an ocean, hope filling his chest.
Something… someone heard my plea, he thought
excitedly, I wonder which god it was? Typhon, lord of storms? Perhaps aged
and wise Armulos? He clenched his fists and pressed on, fighting a grin,
whichever god it was, he’d see their will done, the wicked would learn to fear
the champion of… whoever this was.
Finally, they came to a cliffside on one of the mountains.
Vann looked over the valley and realized just how far he’d walked from his
cabin, the rays of the first morning sun peeked over the horizon. The new light
illuminated a vast structure built into the mountainside, great white columns
leading into a darkened interior, crumbling and overgrown with vines. The pink
orb stopped at the entrance, fizzling out as he walked up the rubble strewn
stairs.
He looked around, not seeing any sigils or holy signs he
recognized, I’ll fix up this temple, he decided, it would be a fitting
tribute to his new patron deity… he peered and seemed to notice a heart symbol
carved into some of the stones… with a whip in the center? Odd, not one of
the kingdom’s pantheons… or perhaps an older sigil, now forgotten? I’ll fix
that, he thought confidently.
He walked confidently inside as the first rays of sunlight
entered the temple with him.
…
Vann’s vision swam, and he shouted in panic as he realized
he was looking up at a blue sky. He was on something soft, warm, and he
scrambled backwards against… a wall of something equally soft.
“WELCOME,” a booming voice echoed overhead, a woman’s voice,
smug and sultry. He looked up in awe to see the gigantic form of a woman’s
face, elegant and sculpted, with flowing long red hair and piercing blue eyes
the size of houses that bore into him. He started as he realized he hadn’t
shuffled backwards into a wall, but… into her fingers!? The towered over him,
the manicured digits three times his height.
“Y-You’re-“
“A goddess?” the giant giggled, “how perceptive… you passed
into my divine realm when you followed my messenger into the temple.” She
leaned in close, her eyes sparkling mischievously as a grin formed on her
castle sized face, “you are in the presence of the goddess Zenovia, what say
you?” The wind seemed to pick up, whipping her hair around her face and almost
knocking Vann over in her palm.
“Z-Zenovia?” He managed, forcing himself upright, “I-I’m
Vann, I called for the divines, and I see my prayers were answered!” He gulped
as he blinked and tried to think how to prhase the next part. “I… I am not sure
what you are the goddess of exactly, lady Zenovia.”
The wind seemed to die, and instead of the divine music
playing around them silence fell. Zenovia looked down at him and frowned. She
licked her lips once and pulled away from him.
“I… I suppose I have been asleep for a few thousand years,”
she muttered, “I guess none of my cultists woke me up when the stars were
right…” She sighed, “well that’s a downer.” She gave him a small smile, “worry
not mortal, I shall send you on your way for now-“
“WAIT!” he shouted, interrupting her. “I came up here
because I was hoping we could… make a pact?”
She raised an eyebrow, and snorted, “I truly must be
forgotten… tell me my adorable little friend, do you want to know exactly what
I am the goddess of?”
“Uhh…” he swallowed nervously, please not necromancy, he
thought, looking around, he didn’t see any skeletons…
“The sexual empowerment of women, female domination, femdom
if you’re in the club scene,” she said with a giggle, “I thought it quite odd
that a lone man would journey into my temple in the first place, I had quite
the… reputation.”
He blinked, licking his lips nervously, “so you… hate men?”
he asked fearfully.
She rolled her eyes, “of course not, that’s not-“ she
scowled, “look, when we picked our precepts at the dawn of time, they said pick
something you love, I liked tying my boyfriends up, using my divine powers to
reduce them to adorable little things in my hands…” a massive finger came down
and gently ruffled his hair, “now I won’t speak for everyone that ever
followed me,” she mused, “but I don’t have anything personal against your sex
in and of itself… I just have certain tastes.”
“Uh, fair enough,” he said, “I… I guess you don’t have much
use for one such as me?”
She shrugged, “I don’t think you would appreciate the
rituals required for my blessings.”
His heart sank, even this divine intervention had failed,
“Very well…” he muttered, “I won’t trouble you any longer-“
“Now hold on,” she said, waving her arms. A portal shimmered
into view in the air, “someone is on the temple grounds, did you come alone?”
The two of them watched as the temple came into focus on the
spot of air the goddess had summoned. Vann’s eyes went wide as he saw Tyra, and
Chadwick was there with her! The two of them were being forced up the mountain
slopes towards the temple ruins, hundreds of goblins pursued them, the green
creatures frothing with rage as the shook sharpened bone tipped spears.
“We’re being forced against the cliff face!” Chadwick called
in panic as he raised his shield, deflecting a thrown spear.
Eletha appeared too, the elf chanting as lighting flew from
her hands scattering the crowd of attackers briefly, “I-I’m almost dry!” she
screamed, her tone a far cry from the cool and collected one she taunted him
with.
“We bought time for the merchants to escape,” Tyra shouted,
lowering the helm on her own armor, “if this is it, we did our duty!”
“Screw our duty!” Eletha snarled, “you two muscleheads need
to hack a way through them!”
The portal shimmered as the scene seemed to view out,
showing the goblin horde advancing from all sides of the trio.
“Gods no,” Vann said, his heart falling. He turned to
Zenovia, “t-those are my friends!”
“Sad,” Zenovia mused, “you may remain here in my realm for
safety until the creatures pass, or you may go to die with them. The choice is
yours.”
“You’re not going to do anything?” he asked, crestfallen.
She shrugged, “we gods and goddesses are quite limited by
our divine compact with one another, we can do great things through those
pledged to us… but our direct power in the world is limited. For those three? I
can do nothing for them.”
His eyes lit up, “make me your servant!” he shouted
eagerly, “you’ve been slumbering for so long, you need one, and if you grant me
your power, I could save my friends!”
“I do need to get my priesthood back up and running,” she
muttered, rubbing her chin, “but… I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a man
as a follower… officially anyway.” She giggled, “oh the rituals would be so…
delicious, you won’t last a day…”
“I don’t care!” he pleaded, looking at his friends in the
midst of battle, “please, I’ll be the best champion you’ve ever had!”
She bit her lip, stifling a laugh, “you’re a very cute boy,”
she said with a smirk, “so I’m going to play along with this... for now. I will come to
you tomorrow, when the full gravity of what you’ve done has set in, and then we
can undo it.” She snapped her fingers, “for now though? Pledge your eternal
soul and fealty to me.”
“I pledge my eternal soul and fealty to the beautiful and all-powerful
goddess Zenovia,” he said, falling to his knees in her palm.
“Wow,” she laughed, “beautiful and all powerful? I was a
little skeptical, but you’re off to a good start.” She lowered him down to her
feet, immense and massive things, her big toe alone stood higher than his whole
body as she lifted it slightly off the smooth marble floor. “Let’s finish it
up,” she said with a grin, “give it a kiss.”
He quickly ran up, embracing the toe and giving it an eager
kiss, “Wow,” she said a frown, “that… didn’t take as much convincing as it
usually does.”
“I kiss more feet than I’d like,” he said, gazing up at the
goddess.
“Really,” she muttered, crossing her arms, “You are an odd
one… Okay, let me get your vestments.” She snapped her fingers and he was in
her palm again, he gasped and tried to cover himself as he realized he was
naked. He yelped in surprise again as his limbs flew upward of their own
accord, leaving him in an “x” shaped pose hovering in air slightly.
The goddess squinted, looking between his legs. There was a
snort, then a low giggle, and finally just a single laugh as her barn door
sized cheeks flushed red.
“W-What!?” he asked defensively.
“Just a little joke from earlier I thought of,” she
said, “d-don’t worry about it.” She started giggling again.
His face burned red, and she continued her examination of
him, slowly rotating his body in the air like he was a wind chime.
“Now, I don’t have a traditional men’s outfit, and I don’t
think you’d like the leather corsets I used to give the priestesses…” She
traced a finger over his chest, and he felt cloth seeming to crawl over his
skin. It was a tight material, that seemed to contract over him, molding to the
shape of his body. A bit of the air shimmered, turning reflective and allowing
him to see the skintight white suit she’d created, a sash and that same heart
with a whip in the center symbol carved on the temple outside. There was a
ruffling sound of cloth and a cape appeared with it, stopping just at his
ankles.
“I… I love it!” he said in awe, “though, it’s a little…
tight in some parts.” He looked down, then briefly back over his shoulder. It left
very little of his physique to the imagination…
“Hey, it’s a lot less
revealing than half of the stuff I send my followers into battle in,” she said
dismissively. A satchel appeared at his side, and he glanced down to see a pair
of books in it. “Those are my holy scriptures,” she explained, “they’ve got my
rituals, rules, parables, all that good stuff, you take a read of those when
you get a chance,” she said with a wink, “they might seem a little daunting to
a boy like you, but don’t fret. I’ll be by to remove my blessing from you
tomorrow and this will all be just a funny story.”
“W-what if I don’t want you to?”
he questioned.
She just laughed, a bellowing
sound that filled her divine realm, “there’s no way you’re going to be able to
handle a day as my champion, I’m not worried.” She turned him around her palm,
and he squeaked with surprise as she flicked his rear end with her fingertip,
“now get your cute little ass out of here and go save your friends.”
“THANK YOU GODDESS ZENOVIA!” he
shouted, disappearing into a pink portal as he was returned to the earthly
realm.
Zenovia sighed, waving her hand
and conjuring a mountain to lean back on, another wave and a vast hot spring
appeared for her to rest her feet. The scrying portal shimmered to life in front
of her, and she put her hands behind her head as she began to watch her newest
champion’s journey unfold.
You are such a good goddess, she
thought smugly to herself, you get to help that little cutie save his
friends, and teach him a valuable lesson. She sighed, it would be a shame
to see him go, but then she could start the search for a real champion.
…
“Shit,” Tyra muttered, hefting
her round shield as the three adventurers were backed against the wall of the
mountainside, “this could be it…” Vann… she thought, I wish I
could’ve said goodbye…
The goblins surrounded them,
cackling madly and shaking their spears. The creatures advanced, slowly closing
the circle around them. Eletha muttered a final prayer to an elven deity, and
Chadwick scowled as he held his sword in front of him.
“Halt evildoers!” Vann called
out. The trees seemed to part, and light filled the clearing, blinding the
goblins and causing them to turn in surprise. Van leapt triumphantly off a
rock, a white cape fluttering behind him.
“VANN!?” The three of them all
exclaimed at once.
“What in the gods name are you
wearing?” Eletha balked.
“In the name of the gods indeed,
especially my new goddess, Zenovia!” he declared with a smile, “and I am her champion!”
He waved his white staff in front of him, muttering words of power he’d long
studied but had been too weak to use. A fireball the size of a wagon burst
forth, exploding and incinerating the first rank of goblins, sending more
flying backwards.
“Holy shit,” Tyra muttered, a
smile forming on her face. “Come on!” She screamed and charged into the stunned
horde of goblins, and a moment later roots seemed to burst from the ground,
flinging the creatures away as Vann’s magic provided them cover.
For Vann it was utter jubilation,
he’d studied magic for so long, and now he finally had the power to wield any
spell he wanted, spells he’d never even heard of were just popping into his
head! He laughed as he hurled spell after spell, scattering the monsters. It
didn’t take long for the party to turn the tide, and the last of the goblins
scurried into the forest before the quartet.
“I’m the best in these woods, so
I’m going to scout around,” Chadwick announced, hefting his sword, “if it looks
like they’re preparing a counterattack, I’ll come back to warn you.” He gave
Vann a broad grin, “that was fantastic! I always knew you’d figure it out!”
with that he turned and started into the treeline.
At last Tyra sheathed her sword
and stowed her shield across her back, “Vann!” she said, running to him and
embracing him, “that was-” she stopped, realizing he only came up to her chest,
“Vann?” she asked curiously.
He gulped, realizing his friend,
who usually stood maybe a few inches taller than him, now towered over his
reduced form. As Eletha joined her, the two women cast a shadow over him in the
morning sun.
“M-My goddess,” he explained, “I
uhh… her blessings come at a cost.”
“So she shrinks you?” Eletha
asked, brow furrowed. “Weird, what’s she a goddess of exactly? I’ve never heard
of Zenovia.”
“Erm… female domination…”
he muttered under his breath.
“What’s that? Come on pipsqueak,
speak up!” Eletha said, snapping her fingers in a demanding tone.
He gasped as he felt a buzz of
energy fill his body, his magic replenishing as he got… smaller? He was now
only up to the two women’s bellybuttons, and they looked down at him in shock.
The elf reached out and touched his hair, as if confirming he was now only half
her size.
“Goddess of what?” she repeated,
eyes wide.
“Female domination,” he said with
a sigh, “as in women dominating others, mostly in a sexual manner from what I
gathered from a quick glimpse through her books.”
“They’ve got a goddess for that?”
Tyra asked, scratching her head, “weird.”
“Well, if she’s looking for the
most pathetic wretches she can find, she found the right one,” Eletha said with
a smirk.
Vann grunted as he felt his
height dwindle again, his eyes now passing lower than the exposed bellybutton
on the blond elf’s midriff.
“Eletha, you’re making it worse,”
Tyra said angrily.
“It’s not my fault that he’s so
pathetic he went crawling at the feet of the first divine that would take him!”
Eletha said.
“H-Hey, maybe cool it with the insults,”
he managed, watching them both drift higher as the shrinking continued, “I
think they’re making me-“
“Gods above,” Eletha said with a
giggle, “they are!”
“I think… I think they’re
charging up my magic though,” he muttered. He reached into the satchel,
grimacing at the size as it had not shrunk with his uniform, and hefted
out a now much larger book, Commands and Rituals of Zenovia. He’d taken
maybe a minute at most to flip through each book before charging into battle,
and he quickly found his new patron’s rituals. “Okay, a champion of Zenovia
draws strength whenever they cause her rituals to be completed…”
“Give me that,” Eletha muttered,
taking it from his hands. Her eyes went wide at the very first page, “the
ritual of belittlement, a powerful woman mocking and belittling her target,
causing them to shrink with each insult?” she laughed uproariously, “wow, I’m
guessing this goddess typically imagines her champion in the role of the woman
doing the belittling?”
“Hey, show a little respect,”
Tyra said angrily, grabbing the book from the elf, “Vann just saved all of our
asses, this new goddess of his is all right in my book!”
“Hmm…” the elf looked down at
him, that same smug smirk she always had when she was thinking of horrible
things for him, “Well Vann, I have to admit, you did find a way to be
useful, and you seem to be skilled enough with a spell when you can find the
power to actually use one…” She shrugged, “I suppose if nothing else you’ll
make fine entertainment on our adventures.”
His heart swelled, “does this
mean I’m going to start going out with you guys on missions and stuff?”
“Well yeah,” Tyra beamed, “it
seems like you’ve got the firepower now!”
“It’s borrowed power,” Eletha
said dismissively, “from a goddess, he’ll need to show his devotion to her
regularly if he wants to fight a swarm of goblins every day, or else he could
end up getting stepped on by one.” She smirked, bending over and still looming
over his diminutive form, “If you need a hand in getting some of that magic
back Vann, I’d be happy to help you with some of those rituals… you little
pest!”
He grunted as he shot lower, his
satchel falling away from his body as he fell to knee height.
“Eletha!” Tyra shouted angrily.
“What, it’s what his goddess
requires!” she giggled with a shrug, “I’m helping power him up for the next
fight!” she handed the book back to Tyra, “you lovebirds might want to read up
on this, have fun…”
“Lovebirds? What do you
mean by that!?” Tyra asked angrily, leaning down to pick up the foot tall Vann.
He grunted as he was cradled her arms like a doll, held against her cold steel
armor by her strong grip.
Eletha just laughed and rolled
her eyes.
…
Later, when they’d returned home,
Tyra had stripped off her steel and carried the shrunken Vann to their table, eager
to hear more about the pact he’d made.
“So, she shrinks you if you use
her magic,” Tyra muttered, flipping through the book, “and most of her rituals
shrink you too… but you get extra power in exchange. Also it looks like if you
break one of her commandments she… shrinks you too.” She shrugged, “looks like
you might have to get used to being small buddy!”
“It shouldn’t last that long,” he
muttered, “but… yes, it would seem so.” He tried to give a confident grin,
“it’s a small price to pay though, to protect my friends and fight evil!”
“Yeah whatever,” Tyra laughed,
“you uh… you might want to stick with me, or even Eletha, for some of these…”
she flipped the book around and showed him a very graphic illustration of a
laughing woman bring a heeled boot down on a pleading shrunken man. “Some of
them seem kind of gnarly for the guys.”
“Yes, as Eletha guessed I believe
most of these imagine that the goddess’s champion is the one doing the er…
dominant acts,” Vann said, wincing at the picture. He blinked; it was… him!?
He narrowed his eyes, the woman doing the stomping had changed too, it
looked suspiciously like-
“Huh,” Tyra mused, “Is it weird
if the picture suddenly looks like… me?” The woman with the smug expression and
the tiny man begging for mercy under her foot suddenly seemed to have the same
short haircut Tyra wore, and that same brown skin, where the illustration had most
certainly had a pale northern complexion a moment ago…
“Try turning the page,” he said
nervously. She did, and the next illustration depicted Tyra’s smiling face as
she held a necklace before her, a medallion in place at the end of it with a
shrunken Vann shackled to it and serving as a central decoration.
“Whoa,” Tyra laughed, “you’re
lucky I don’t wear much jewelry…” she turned the page, “Neat book Vann, I can’t
wait to read it together… oh look, exerting physical control, trapping your
tiny toy in your clothing… luckily for you it looks like your goddess gave you
a lot of options to earn her favor.”
He sighed, “look, I understand
that maybe this isn’t… typical, but she did give me the power to save
everyone, and-“ he was cut off as a face as tall as he was leaned in, and a
pair of soft lips enveloped his face in a quick kiss. He stumbled a moment,
almost falling over on the table.
“Thanks for saving me,” Tyra said
softly, giving him a small smile.
They were quiet a moment, then
she grinned, “Come here pipsqueak!” she growled. Her hand shout out, and he
cried out in surprise as she easily pinned him to the table.
“W-What are you doing!?” he
stammered.
“I wanted to wrestle you,” she
teased, “like we always do, but you’re too small and weak for it… maybe you can
beat my hand?” He grunted, trying to lift her calloused palm off of him, he
felt the buzz of his magic returning, and he grinned, realizing what she was
doing.
“Tyra, come on, I’m too small-“
“Uh, oh, someone’s going down,
better push harder or you’re going to be wrestling my thumb!”
The mix of her taunting and the
easy way she was manhandling him caused that pleasant buzz in the back of his
skull to light up, she’s charging up my magic, he thought, fighting
against a finger that was now larger than he was. It was charging up something
else too… he gasped as her palm rubbed over the thin material of his uniform, over
an erection straining through the tight outfit the Goddess had crafted him. As
her thumb rolled up to pin his face into the table, Tyra’s palm drifted over it
and she paused.
“Wow,” she said with a giggle,
“you really chose the right goddess for you, huh Vann?” she rolled him
back over onto his back, where he’d been a foot tall when she started, he could
now easily fit in the palm of her hand, “she grants you power when you get
roughhoused by women, and you have one right here who kicks your ass every day,
it’s perfect!”
It really is, he thought,
gasping as her fingertip traced over the outline of his erection. This is…
way better than I thought. A part of him had always secretly enjoyed
“losing” to Tyra when she was in one of her more playful moods, now apparently
that sentiment was the pathway to the magic he’d been searching for all these
years.
“Do you think you’ll get in
trouble if you make a mess on this adorable priest uniform she gave
you?” Tyra giggled, gently rubbing up and down on his crotch. “It would be a shame;
I really like it…” He moaned and reached for her grubby fingertip pleadingly,
but her other hand came around, easily pinning his arms with just her thumb and
forefinger while she continued her motions. He grimaced and struggled, but her
fingers were like iron bars, easily holding him in place while she rubbed back
and forth over the bulge in his pants.
“I… I don’t know,” he managed
through gritted teeth, “she seemed to have a…” he gasped, “pretty good sense of
humor!”
“Yeah, she’d have to,” Tyra
laughed, “okay hero, enough stalling, cum your pants for me.” She pressed the
tip of her finger down on him, forcefully grinding it into him and causing to
thrash and moan feebly as his orgasm arrived, his body yielding to Tyra’s will
over his. She giggled a moment, letting him savor the moment, before lifting up
her finger and wiping the small amount of cum that had managed to seep through
his pants onto it across his white shirt.
“T-thanks,” he said with a weak
smile, “I… I probably earned back some of those fireballs I used in the woods…”
“Hmm… well, it wouldn’t be safe
to let you go without being sure you got all your magic back,” Tyra said
with a wicked grin. His eyes went wide as her fingers slipped underneath him,
scooping him off the table like he was a coinpurse. Those same fingers that had
easily pinned his tiny body to the table now wrapped around him like pythons,
holding him tight as he was dangled over the opening of her leather boot, taken
off and set next to the table as she’d come in.
“Uh, Tyra, I think I’ve got
plenty of magic now!” he protested. He grimaced as the ripe smell of Tyra’s
feet wafted up from the opening, the darkness there promising a sweat-soaked
hell.
“It’s your first day, you really
need to impress your new goddess!” she giggled. He shouted one final
protest as she dropped him in.
Vann landed with a soft *thump*
and, grimacing as the ripe odor filled his senses, clouding his head. He
groaned and started to sit up, but then cursed and scrambled backwards as he
saw a foot twice his size beginning to force it’s way in.
“TYRA!” he shouted, fighting a
laugh, “seriously, come on!”
“You love it,” she teased
dismissively, forcing the rest of her foot in and sealing him away from the
world.
He grunted as her toes seemed to
race forward, pinning him to the insole of the boot, curling around him with
the same vicegrip strength. Unlike her fingers they were soft, without the
callouses and weathering of her swordplay, but they were also damp, grimy, and
his hair was swished around as they playfully gripped and released his head in
the dark prison of the boot’s toe.
The buzz from before returned,
and he sighed as he realized his magical power was growing, even as he
was doing the opposite. He felt his body reducing more, the toes around him
growing stronger each time they grabbed at him, the sweat soaking his body as
he fought feebly against toes that went from the size of his head, to the size
of his body.
“Now you just stay in there and
charge your spells up while I go in to town and get us some fresh food,” Tyra
laughed. She took a step, pausing to make sure he was still moving. A tiny bug
sized squirm against her foot told her that he was, and she smiled and decided
he was safe enough for the trip.
She whistled a tune happily as
she headed out the door, happy that her friend had finally become the
adventurer of his dreams, and happy she could help.
We are going to have so much
fun with this, she thought excitedly.