Tales
of Myth and Legend
Part 4
– Woodland Encounter Part 1
By
Richard C.H. Davies
Warning
this story contains: Giantess witch, fantasy fiction, Shrunken Man, Shrunken
Women, giantess, kidnap, giant woman lick, soft vore, naked giantess, chase, hard
vore, human to animal transformation, handheld, taunting
The wind
ruffled the dark feathers across the wings which were spread out as wide as
they could.
Aqualisha
circled from thermal to thermal as she felt her way through the spiralling
rising heat beneath the white fluffy clouds.
She enjoyed
the wind rushing across her beak and eyes and down her neck and body. She felt
young and free and healthy again.
For years
she had been trapped in bird form, cursed by her own incredible skills of
transformation. Now, thank you to Ember and Sir Arthur, she was free to change
form at her own will. That once again made being in avian form an enjoyable
experience; because it was her choice.
She spent
hours and hours enjoying flying, bouncing between thermals and being buffeted
by the wind; as she collected her bearings and her thoughts.
She dived
into action occasionally to dive bomb and snap at a little field mouse or two;
to enjoy a fresh snack.
Then she
moved to her true objective, to locate her coven sisters.
Aine would
surely be the easiest to find, of course. Known as the Goddess of Love, she was
the most sociable of all of the witches and the most likely to be immersed in
mortal human society.
She was the
most debaucherous of the sisters and lived up to her name.
Aqualisha
located the first mortal human settlement. She circled overhead for a while on
a reconnaissance, gauging the threat levels. She tended to avoid areas where
there were a significant number of people bearing arms. It just wasn't worth
the risk.
In human
form Aqualisha was an incredibly attractive dark- haired woman, stunning to
look at, and highly tempting to mortals. Over the generations she had lost
count the number of times she had been forced to defend herself and shrink down
potential sexual predators.
She had
always got the better of them, apart from one of the first times in Ancient
Greece, where Ember had rescued her. Nevertheless, when she did succeed in
preventing her sexual assault it was still an unpleasant experience made more
worrying by men and thugs who bore arms.
So, she
always did a reconnaissance of any human settlement first and then flew to the
outskirts and dropping down into the treeline.
She always
found a good branch to land on, wait for a few moments of quiet and ensuring
there were no witnesses, then she had to patiently wait for someone to pass by.
She needed their clothes. It usually turned too many heads walking into town
naked.
She had done
that once when she had been young and stubborn and it had led to her, quite
rightly, being accused of being a witch and a she-demon (the latter of which
wasn't so fair).
Thankfully
she didn't have to wait too long. She could hear two women speaking as they
wandered through the woodland.
Aqualisha
enjoyed watching them through her bird's-eye. Her eyesight was so sharp in this
avian form, as was her hearing. She actually felt quite clumsy in human form,
stumbling about, almost feeling deaf and blind.
She could
hear every word very clearly.
The women
were talking about the goings on in the village. They noted that a Knight had
ridden through a few days ago and it was the talk of the community.
The women
stopped and one of them said that here was a good spot.
Aqualisha
hopped between some branches silently to get a better vantage point.
The two
women were crouching and picking mushrooms from the woodland floor and popping
them into baskets that they carried.
Aqualisha
watched them intently. She cocked her bird head to the side; studying them,
waiting for the correct moment.
Her yellow
eyes flickered. Thin flaps of skin glazed over and refreshed her razor focused
eyes.
Her talons
clung to the branch that she was perched on. She was getting impatient and was
feeling cocky today. She had been trapped without any enjoyment or freedom for
too long.
She felt
like doing something that Ember would very much not applaud.
Aqualisha
lowered her bird head, her slender form narrowed, her wings were angled and
muscles bunched and primed and she dropped from the branch and swooped down
towards the women.
The bird of
prey glided towards the women who were focused on the ground looking for
mushrooms.
"Winzig!"
Aqualisha cried out as she glided like an arrow.
One of the
women screamed out in shock, but rapidly shrank down to the size of a mouse, a
perfect size for the bird of prey to swoop down on and catch in her talons.
Aqualisha
reached down with both claw feet, she saw almost in slow motion the terrified look
of the tiny naked woman as the dark shape of the terrifying giant bird of prey
approached.
The woman
turned and started to run but was caught painfully by the claws of the
predatory bird.
Aqualisha
noticed the legs of the normal sized woman as she swooped past to pick her tiny
companion up.
She felt her
fear and shock filling up her Life Force Well, as was the tiny struggling
captive in her talons.
Aqualisha
didn't land there on the ground, she snapped out with her talons, grabbed her
prey, continuing her forward momentum and arced straight up into the air,
flapping her wings very hard and flew back into the canopy.
"Harriet!"
The normal sized woman screamed out. "Where are you?" She looked
around in terror. "Demon!" She screamed out. "Satan!" She
cried. "Be gone with you, give me my friend back and be gone!" She
screamed out, backing away from the horror scene of what had occurred.
She didn't
really know or understand what had just happened. Her friend had seemingly
disappeared, but she could have sworn she saw a tiny creature in her place,
which the bird had snatched up and flown off with.
She turned
around, looking in every direction. Waiting for a spirit, a demon, or some kind
of a horned satanic creature to spring out and grab her.
What had she
seen? What was this apparition of hell? Her panic addled mind recalled an
image, a bird. A dark bird. Did it have horns? That was how she pictured evil
that was how the stories were told. Yes, it had horns. It was a satanic bird.
It had sprung up from hell and taken her friend.
There was a
snap of wood behind her and she spun round. Her lungs were burning in fear. Her
heart was thumping. She was panting.
Her eyes
were wide, looking for the threat.
She swung round,
spinning, looking from tree to tree.
The very
bark of the trees seemed threatening. The branches and bowers of the trees
seemed to droop and frown at her. The whole woodland seemed hostile.
But she just
saw fallen leaves, trees, mushrooms…
Some
movement to the left.
She spun
round.
"Stay
back!" It was a moving branch in the breeze.
She backed
up further.
Then she
bumped into something hard with creases in it.
She screamed
and struck out. Smacking her hands against the solid bark of an oak tree.
She stumbled
backwards and tripped over the exposed roots of the tree. Falling backwards
onto her backside.
She
scrambled along the leaves, rustling as she went.
Her hand
gripped around a stick and she hoisted it up, she brought herself to her feet.
She spun
round shaking in fear, using the stick like a sword to ward off evil.
That was
when a light- coloured thing came into view and she came face to face with… the
demon.
Her heart
turned to ice.
The creature
didn't have horns.
But it was
truly satanic in form.
She watched
in ice cold terror as the bird like form landed nearby to her in the clearing.
Impossibly
the featherlike appearance of the bird transformed into skin, the beak softened
and transformed into a nose, mouth and jaw, the piercing dark pools of black
eyes changed into human eye form and the smaller body enlarged into a human
like form. It was an ugly transformation, but it was shocking to behold what
remained at the end.
The bird had
finally transformed into a beautiful naked woman with long dark hair, and it
seemed to occur only over a matter of seconds.
It was so
absolute that one would wonder if their eyes had fooled them.
The dark- haired
woman was crouching and then slowly stood upwards until she stood fully erect,
displaying her completely naked chest and body, her piercing eyes looking
towards the confused woman.
Her face was
very serious and focused, but as she made eye contact and felt the fear in the
other woman her serious face turned into a terrifyingly beaming and wicked
smile.
"Hello
my little snack," the demon said, baring her white teeth in the process.
*
Sir Robert
was a drunk.
He was a
drunk, a misogynist, a thief, a blagger, a bragger, and a ruffian. In modern
terms he would have been defined no less as a thug.
He had very
few knightly virtues, in fact.
However, he
did have a few vague attributes that could be associated with a knight. He had
a sword, a motley uniform and helm, and he was normally up for a fight. That
was about it. Sometimes those attributes helped people, when he could step into
a fight and give someone a good thumping, sometimes he inadvertently rescued
people. Oftentimes he did not. He was not always the best, or indeed bothered
in identifying the victim of a fight. He normally decided who was the most
virtuous to fight and went at them.
He was
standing facing an oak tree in the woodland, having a piss against the side of
the tree. He leaned heavily against the tree pressing one of his hands against
it.
He swayed
from side to side, humming to himself, watching the steam rise from his urine
in the cool morning air.
He didn't notice
that some of his mud- stained tunic swung into the stream of his piss and got
soaked with it.
Nobody would
notice his smell.
This village
was a shit hole just like most of them that he passed through. He mused.
They were
all full of dirty, rat and flea infested peasants, who smelled worse than a
horse’s arse, in his humble opinion.
In fact, he
concluded, he probably smelt distinctly rosy compared to them. The fact that he
had bathed a week ago, was indeed most hygienic.
A scream
caused his drunken head to snap upwards in the perceived direction.
He looked
about and searched for the source, all he could see was trees and woodland
around him.
He quickly
finished his stream of urine, shook his cock, and glanced at his camp that he
had made outside the village. He had camped outside the village, not lodged
there, mostly because he wasn't satisfied that anywhere had suitable bed and
board. It was, of course, nothing due to his apparent lack of coin.
He could
dismantle his camp later. He glanced to see his steed was still lashed firmly
to a tree.
He picked up
his sword and helm and staggered in the direction of the noise. His tunic
swaying as he staggered wildly from side to side.