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It’s good to be the king. Or at least that’s what everyone said. For King Albert of Baldania, being the king wasn’t so good, in fact he’d have given just about anything in the world to NOT be the king. As it stood his new bodyguards had proven multiple times that they could run faster than he could, so he was stuck.

“And so my liege,” Lord Sines, his advisor, continued, “there are a number of-“

“Are you absolutely sure I’m the old king’s only living relative?” he asked again, hoping against hope that Sines had “good” news on that front.

“Sire,” the elderly man began in a tired voice, “you are the king’s only son, yes a lowborn bastard to be sure, but your lineage is properly royal.”

Albert spared a glance up at the old king’s portrait. He’d been a broad-shouldered man with a billowing black beard and a bald spot shone even in a painting, and he held an axe the size of a wagon wheel overhead. Albert, by contrast, was often described as a prettyboy by millworkers he assured himself were just jealous. With a boyish grin and a lithe figure, he’d caught the eye of plenty of village maidens in spite of his short stature. One thing was for sure, he bore almost no resemblance to the hoary battle scared former monarch. When they’d dragged him out of the mill and insisted he was the king’s last living heir, he’d thought it was an elaborate joke. If the King HAD been his father, he’d certainly been an absentee one, Albert had spent most of his youth in an orphanage and the rest working for the miller.

“If you say so,” he muttered. “Continue your report of the kingdom’s affairs…”

Most people would be happy to find out they inherited a kingdom, but most people weren’t Albert, and most kingdoms weren’t Baldania. Known for years as “the sick man” of the continent, the tiny realm had historically avoided annexation by its larger neighbor, the Human Empire, largely because of its mountainous borders, and today because of an economy so poor that any would-be conquerors would run a loss by taking it. For his part, Albert had finally saved up enough of his wages to leave the kingdom for… well, anywhere else really, when the men had grabbed him and coronated him against his will.

“We are currently facing a large invasion led by bandits,” Sines explained, “A one, “Brodda the Beast” leads them. They have pillaged several farm estates and they will soon strike at larger settlements. In our efforts to modernize our military, we equipped our soldiers with the latest technology, these firearms I’m told are quite effective in combat-“

“That’s great!” Albert said, smiling at the good news, “So this Brodda character, they scattered his army, right?”

“Well…” Sines cleared his throat, “as it turns out these “guns” as they are called, are a little more complicated than a sword, and the men couldn’t read the manuals the arms merchants sent them with… they ended up leaving most of them on the battlefield.” Sines paused a moment, “Brodda on the other hand, is apparently quite literate, and has equipped his own forces with the weapons.”

Albert stared at his advisor in shock, “So we nearly bankrupted the kingdom buying guns for every criminal in the land!?”

“Nearly?” Sines said, “Oh no, we’re quite bankrupt. Those two knights at your side are the only remaining levies we can call upon.”

Albert looked from side to side at his bodyguards and sighed, “Okay, what else?”

“The great lich Ponteforus has raised an army of skeletons out of the southern deadlands,” Sines said, “he claims he will create a kingdom of the dead and-“

“Okay, lich, skeletons, next,” Albert said, growing irritated.

“A dragon-“ Sines started

“A dragon?” Albert asked, wide eyed, “a gods damned dragon too?”

“Your grace,” Sines said, “if this is all too much for you-“

“What else?” he roared, “what else could possibly be wrong?”

“A harpy,” Sines finished, “it may seem a minor affair, but a harpy has taken up residence in the tower where your late father’s master bedroom was.”

Albert fumed a moment, “Okay,” he said, standing up, “someone get me a sword or something, I’m going to go deal with at least one of these problems today!”

Albert plodded up the stairs, a set of ill-fitting armor clanking as the two knights followed behind him. He sweated in the plate mail as he tried to make it up to the top of the tower, but he tried not to show any weakness to his bodyguards. If he was going to survive this king thing, he was going to need to be strong.

He tried to think about what he knew of harpies. They were all female, he knew that much, and they tended to kidnap men during their mating seasons. Supposedly they weren’t keen on direct confrontation, being more playful in nature. The other monsters and bandits plaguing the kingdom? Utterly beyond him, chasing one bird-woman out of his father’s old tower? He could handle that, surely? A simple start to tackling the kingdom’s problems, one that would show his new subjects he meant business!

“I think the problem with this kingdom,” he explained, stopping with a huff in front of the bedroom door, “Is that a lot of the leadership doesn’t want to do the hard jobs.”

“Of course, your majesty,” one of the knights said with a nod.

“Now then,” He said, hoisting the armored trousers up, no matter how tight he cinched the belt they just wouldn’t stay, “I’m going to go in there, and chase the harpy out! You two stay here, and bar the door so the Harpy can’t flee into the castle.”

“Your majesty,” One knight asked uncertainly, “have you ever fought any monsters before?”

“We had a hobgoblin at the mill once,” he said with a smile, “I kicked its ass!” The two knights exchanged glances, and then stepped back as their young king approached the door. “All right,” he said, giving them his best grin, “that harpy’s about to learn there’s a new king around here!”

With that he kicked the door open, shouting as he ran inside. Per his instructions he heard the door slam behind him, and a heavy oak bar slap across it on the other side. He looked around the enormous master bedroom, seeing the blankets and the pillows from the king-sized four poster bed strewn about. Drawers and cabinets were thrown open too, various robes and garments laying on the floor.

His eyes narrowed, noticing the double doors to the balcony were open. Maybe he’d missed her? He chuckled to himself, sheathing the sword and walking over to the doors. He could just lock these, then the Harpy wouldn’t be able to get back in, problem solved! He turned the lock on the wooden doors, chuckling to himself over how easy the whole thing had been.

There was a thump as something heavy hit the ground behind him. He froze, hearing a girlish giggle and the sound of ruffling wings. A pair of bright red feathers drifted down in front of his eyes as he gulped, and, with a deep breath, he forced himself to turn around.

His eyes met a soft feminine stomach, and his gaze trailed up to a perky chest barely contained by a woven top, finally he forced himself to look the rest of the way up, meeting the blue eyes of the smiling woman’s face looking down at him.

“Hi!” she said eagerly.

“AH!” he shouted, tumbling backwards against the balcony doors. “Stay back!” he fumbled for his sword even as the enormous harpy stepped towards him.

He got a good look at her as his back hit the locked doors. She had vibrant red hair that was overgrown and wind swept, and feathers the same shade of crimson trailed from her arms… wings? A pair of very human hands extended from the joint of those avian appendage, and with the forepart of the wings folded back she almost looked like she had a normal pair of arms. Her lower half was covered by a small loin cloth that just barely preserved her decency, and a pair of luscious thighs traced down from a perfectly round bottom until they reached her knee, where her skin became scaly and rough, like a bird’s legs. Like a raptor, she had a set of three toed feet, ending in sharp talons no doubt used for seizing her prey from the air.

Albert flinched as a massive taloned foot came up, splintering into the wood behind him and pinning him against the wall as the birdlike toes gripped him. With a giggle she reached down, keeping him pinned with her leg as she plucked his sword out of his scabbard.

“Oooh,” she said admiringly as the blade caught the light, “shiny!” She tossed it away, causing it to clatter on the floor. Her head swiveled back to him, tilting slightly as she regarded him.

He gulped and struggled against the talon a moment, not managing to budge her. His mind raced, and he tried to remember anything else he knew about harpies. They startled easily, right? Maybe he just needed to take command of the situation!

“Harpy!” he said in his firmest voice, “Shoo! Go on! Get!”

“Wow,” She said, frowning, “Rude!” She glanced behind him, “and you’re the one who shut all the doors too! How was I supposed to leave even if I wanted to?”

He gulped, aware of the talon across his chest tightening slightly, “I could ah, open them.”

“Why would I leave?” she asked with a frown, “This is my nest!” She pointed upwards to the massive ceiling beams. Albert’s eyes traced up and he saw an immense bird’s nest constructed from thick tree limbs and clay, the remnants of the royal bedspread and some of the king’s finer robes were torn up and lining it as insulation.

“Making good use of the high ceiling,” he muttered.

“Yep!” the harpy said cheerfully, “and it stays dry when it rains, and warm when it’s cold!”

He cleared his throat, “Well, this is the KING’S room in the KING’S castle, so you need to go!”

She looked at him quizzically, “The human king died, I heard about it like a month ago or something.”

“Yes,” he said, “well, I’m the new one, and this is my castle and MY bedroom.”

“I got here first,” the harpy said, sticking her tongue out at him, “early bird gets the worm!”

“Look,” he said, gripping the talons and trying to wrest them off him, “I’m the king now! I have a whole kingdom! You have to get out of here.”

“Hmm…” She mused, leaning in close, “kind of a small king… cute though.”

“I mean it!” he said, “If I yell, those men will storm right in here!”

She looked at the door, then back to him, “Hey everyone, I’ve got the king!” she called playfully.

“WE BELIEVE IN YOU YOUR GRACE!” one of the knights called, “This door won’t budge until you’ve won!”

“This fucking kingdom…” Albert muttered angrily.

The harpy just giggled, and the talon loosened, tracing up to the hem of his armor and pulling it loose. The leather straps snapped easily from the harpy’s grasp, and without that central piece holding it together the arm plates came free too, and as his shining steel clattered and clanged to the ground around him, he felt himself shivering in his undershirt and smallclothes under the harpy’s amused gaze.

“This is another great part about living down here in the tower,” the harpy said with a devious smile, “when you live up in the mountains, you’ve got to fly around looking for humans… but here? Cute ones just walk into your nest!”

She extended her arms, the beautiful crimson patterned wings unfolding as the harpy flapped her wings, lifting off the ground. Albert yelled in shock as the talons shot out, grabbing each of his arms as the harpy flew upwards. He grunted in surprise as he was tossed into the nest she’d built among the tower’s ceiling beams, rolling amid the shed red feathers and tattered remains of blankets and clothing.

She fluttered down in front of him, kneeling in a manner that still left her looming over him easily. She giggled as she moved closer to him, enjoying the scared way he scuttled back against the edge of the nest.

“You don’t need to be so territorial,” She said in a sultry voice, leaning over him, “I don’t mind sharing this space with a cute little human like you…” She thought a moment, “I really should just take you for a husband, but since you’re kind of an important human, being the king and all, I think I’ll just have to let you come and go as you want for now.”

“Very generous of you,” Albert breathed, his heart pounding.

“What’s your name? If you’re going to be plodding around my nest all the time from now on, I need to know it.”

“Albert,” he said hesitantly, then, more boldly, “KING Albert.”

“I’m Cyrene,” she said, placing a hand on his chest. “Your little heart is going as fast as a field mouse!” she laughed. Suddenly she froze, her eyes going wide, “I heard from a human once that stress can kill you guys! Is that true?”

He blinked, “Uh, well not-“

“He was a doctor too, he said stress is killer!” She gasped, “oh, and you’re the king! Do you think stress might have killed the last king?”

Albert was about to say something about an assassin and a crossbow bolt, but Cyrene just raised one of her fingers to his mouth, idly he noticed in place of a fingernail she had something more like a claw.

“Don’t talk!” She said urgently, “you’re just going to stress yourself out even more!”

She reached her clawed hand down and, with one easy tug, tore his shirt clean off him. He shouted in surprise, but the harpy didn’t seem to take any heed. Instead, she reached up, and began unlacing the coarse cloth top she was wearing, the read feathers of her forewing slapped across his face, tickling him and causing him to sneeze. When the crimson down flashed across his face again the harpy knelt over him, her proud and pert breasts on display. His eyes bulged as he took in the view, those perky pink nipples seemed to call to him.

“Oh,” she said suddenly. She bit her lip, “Does this kind of thing give human men stress? I guess it would explain why you’re always trying to run away from us-“

“No,” he breathed, “I uh… It’s definitely helping me feel more… relaxed.”

“Great!” The harpy beamed, “I was worried there for a minute.” Her hands came down and, with the same force as his shirt, easily tore his underwear to ribbons, leaving him completely naked.

“Yummy,” Cyrene giggled, looking at his rising erection. Her hands traced over his naked body again, causing him to shiver slightly at the touch of those clawed fingers. Her massive palm went flat against his chest, pushing him down. As he watched she reached down to her side, pulling another set of laces and letting the rugged looking loincloth she wore fall to the nest’s floor.

The harpy’s womanhood was covered in a patch of rough hair the same crimson shade as her feathers, and she giggled as he took it in. Her finger came down and twirled through the hair, giving him a good look at the glistening wet lips that seemed almost to call to him.

“Have you ever been with a woman…” she paused, licking her lips, “like me?”

“Like you?” he gulped, looking up at the harpy’s towering form, “no, not like you.”

“I’ll try to go easy on you then,” she giggled, “we ARE trying to reduce your stress after all.”

 She hovered over him a moment, then lowered herself onto his waiting manhood. He gasped as he felt her slick wetness envelop him, and the harpy herself seemed pleased at the feeling. She leaned down, reaching around and cradling his head lovingly as her face came down to his.

She had an earthy and outdoorsy smell to her, the mix of dirt and sweat he recognized from hunters and farmhands. From her though there was something else, different, airier, lighter somehow? Like the wind off a mountain after a spring storm. He inhaled it deeply, and found himself almost embarrassed at how the essence of this wild harpy was affecting him so, but not nearly embarrassed enough to pull away.

She kissed him suddenly, her powerful tongue forcing his lips apart and exploring his mouth, filling it and almost casually pushing his own down and out of the way. It filled him, sensually crawling over the roof of his mouth and seeming to delight in how defenseless he was against it.

The first thrust took him by surprise, both the force and the speed, and he grunted in shock as pleasure jolted up his spine. He would have cried out, but Cyrene was still passionately kissing him, a low moan escaping her as she continued to ravage his mouth. He squirmed as her pace didn’t stall, hammering against him so hard he winced.

He squirmed against her iron grip, and as he got a hand free her own darted out, catching his wrist and pinning him to the nest. She leaned back up, finally letting him breateh as her immense form loomed over him, hammering down onto him again and again, causing them both to grunt with pleasure.  Their eyes met, and he saw a wild hunger in hers, the fierce and predatory gaze of a harpy who had captured her mate and was forcing him into submission. He gulped nervously, and the show of fear seemed to invigorate her, causing Cyrene to drive into him even harder.

Their pleasure rose together, his thrashing would increase, and her grip on him would tighten, and then almost to rebuke him she would ride him harder. She had a goofy grin on her face, a victorious one even, looking down at the human king who was powerless to resist her, who was being driven mad with pleasure as she brought herself to bear on him with the speed and force of a chariot.

“Cyrene!” he gasped, “P-Please-“

“Yes!” She crowed happily, “say my name! Beg me!”

His head rocked back and his eyes threatened to roll into his skull, “Cyrene!” he shouted again, “I’m going to-“

He shuddered and convulsed, still easily held down by the larger harpy as orgasm rocked his body. From the howls of pleasure overhead she was finishing herself, and for a brief moment she continued to ride him, causing him to almost see stars.

Finally, the haze of orgasm faded, and with a chuckle the harpy lifted herself off him. She sighed contentedly and crouched next to him. She ran her hands along his body almost lovingly, and eventually those taloned feet gripped his arms again, lifting him up as the harpy took flight again.

He was unsteady on his feet as she lowered him back down to the floor, his legs felt like jelly and he was certain his ears had popped. He blinked, thoughts and sensation returning to him slowly as he felt the harpy lift up his arm, gently sliding the sleeve of a long purple robe down it. The garment tightened as she tied a sash around his waist, effectively clothing him.

“There you go,” she said, ruffling his hair. “Are you feeling less stressed out now?”

“Yes,” he muttered, still swaying slightly. That had been… an experience, that was for sure. He was feeling a lot of things, but stressed wasn’t one of them.

“I had a good time too,” she said with a wink, “it’s going to be really fun sharing this tower with you!” She guided him towards the door, her taloned hand on his back as she towered over him.

“S-Sharing?” he muttered, looking up at her smiling face. “I umm…” he sighed, “Okay, I’ll have to send for a new set of blankets for the bed-“

“Pfft,” the harpy snorted derisively, “the bed? No way, there’s plenty of room up there!” she pointed up at the nest in the rafters. “I’ll just fly you up and down, we’ll probably be going to bed and getting up around the same time anyways.”

“Of course,” he said, still in shock.  

“Well, you should probably go do your king-stuff now,” Cyrene said, stopping in front of the door back out to the stairway, “try not to let that stress creep up on you again, okay? If it does, come find me!”

With that she opened the door and ushered him out, and he stumbled into the small open space at the top of the stairs. The door closed behind him, and the two bodyguards, who had been lounging on the far side from the door stood up suddenly, as if surprised to see him.

“Y-Your majesty!” one said, “You’ve surv-“ He stopped himself and cleared his throat, “Did you kill the harpy?”

“Ah no, I dealt with it,” he said, pulling the oversized robe a bit tighter around himself.

“So you drove the harpy off?” The other knight asked.

“I DEALT with it,” he said firmly, “no more questions! We’ve got… king stuff to do.”

The two men stared at him silently a moment.

“What?” he spat, finally.

“Your majesty,” one said, “you’ve got a thing in your hair.”

He blinked, and then reached up, feeling around until he felt something clinging to his ruffled and messy hair. Pulling it down he sighed, it was a crimson feather.

Albert blinked awake, yawning and stretching. He reached down for a blanket and frowned, seeing the sheet of read feathers stretching down from the harpy’s arm. He glanced over, seeing Cyrene’s pert breasts eye level with him even as he was hugged against her like a favored stuffed toy.

Another king would have sent for knights to chase the harpy out, or at least demanded another room in the castle. He had no knights he would trust with the job, in fact the only thing his two bodyguards seemed capable of was grabbing him when he made a run for it and bringing him back to his throne. As for other rooms? He was the king damnit, he’d stay in the king’s bedroom… even if he hadn’t quite figured out how to get the harpy to vacate it yet.

“Morning,” she said sweetly, hugging him close to her massive frame again. “Sleep well?”

“I did,” he said, letting his arms hang wide as Cyrene’s birdlike talons closed around them. It was the truth, her feathers were softer than any blanket, and quite warm… but he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it to her, or himself. He felt the now familiar sensation of being lifted out of the nest, and a moment later she gently let his feet touch the floor, then landed with a thud next to him.

“So, what are you doing today?” Cyrene asked pleasantly, walking over and opening the balcony doors.

“I’ve got to meet some new court wizard Sines has found for me,” he said with a scowl. “We can’t exactly afford to pay one, but he says this one will work on contingency.”

Cyrene paused, “What’s that mean?” she asked finally.

“It means he’ll work for the promise of money later,” Albert explained, putting his royal robe on.

“Ugh,” Cyrene said, rolling her eyes, “who knows if they’re going to have money later?”

“Not me,” Albert said with the hint of a smile, “but if you run into the wizard, don’t tell him that.”

“Probably won’t,” Cyrene said, missing the joke, “I’m flying out to a grassy field a few miles from here. This farmer just bought these nice shiny brass bells for all his cows, and they even have really nice velvet ribbons! I’m going to see if I can get a few off before he notices and chases me away.” Her eyes lit up a second, “hey, should I bring you one? Maybe the wizard will take it as payment!”

He looked at her eager face a moment, then forced a smile, “Sure, grab me one too if you can.” He fought a laugh as she gave him a thumbs up and fluttered out of the open balcony doors, taking off into the sky. He watched her go a moment, briefly envying the freedom.

Albert was seated on the throne, his two bodyguards on either side of him. Both men seemed relaxed this morning, he hadn’t tried to escape over breakfast like usual, and the king’s good mood seemed to have spread to his subjects.

“Your majesty,” Sines began, kneading his hands as he approached, “I couldn’t help but notice that the harpy flew out from the tower this morning… I thought you said you defeated-“

“I DEALT with the harpy,” he said firmly, “she will trouble us no more!”

“But she’s still living in the tower?” Sines inquired.

“She will trouble us no more,” he repeated crossly.

Sines stared a moment, then moved on, “The bandit army has advanced in our direction, apparently, they’ve decided to forsake smaller targets and attempt to take the capital. Our vassals have refused calls for aid, and are simply fortifying their own castles.”

“Lovely,” Albert muttered. “Any news on the lich?”

“He’s found an ancient spellbook, the Krotonomicon, and he’s declared an end to the age of the living,” Sines explained.

“Of course he has!” Albert said, throwing his hands up, “what about the dragon?”

“Oh,” Sines said brightly, “she’s apparently kidnapped a troupe of actors, they’re distracting her quite well for the moment by performing plays at her leisure.”

“Well thank the gods for small favors,” Albert muttered, “Right, on to new business, you said you have a wizard that is stup- enterprising enough, to work for us?”

Sines smiled, “indeed your majesty, but… please keep an open mind, and remember our financial state.”

Albert sighed, that certainly didn’t sound encouraging. He fought the urge to groan as Sines led a short young woman into the throne room. She was wearing a long blue robe with stars sewn on it, and she carried a large book in one hand and a staff in the other. A thick pair of glasses almost seemed to make her eyes bulge, and she had a short, tomboyish, haircut.

“Greetings!” she said eagerly, “It is I, Meghan the Magician! Here to save your kingdom and provide my wise counsel!”

“And where did you learn to use magic?” Albert asked.

The girl bit her lip, “Okay,” she said slowly, “there are lots of different kinds of smarts, there’s like, people who read a lot of books, and then there’s street smarts, you know?”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Albert said, sighing.

“Well, you might say I don’t have a lot of formal schooling,” Meghan admitted, “except the school of hard knocks, am I right?” she elbowed Sines, who grimaced. Albert just stared, his mouth a line.

“Can you use magic?” he asked simply.

“Oh yeah,” Meghan said, waving a hand dismissively, “what kind do you need?”

“Mostly destroying stuff,” Albert said, “fireballs, lightning, that sort of thing.”

Meghan’s eyes lit up, “I’ll do you one better!” She opened the book, flicking through the pages until she withdrew a note folded within them. “What if I could brew you a potion that would turn even one of your soldiers into an unstoppable one-man army?”

“That would be fantastic!” Albert said, sitting up eagerly, “how long would it take you to make it!?”

“I’ll make it today!” she said eagerly, “if I have the job, that is.”

“You’re hired!” Albert said excitedly, “Sines, get this girl whatever she needs!”

“Of course, your majesty,” the man said with a bow.

Finally, he thought, his luck seemed to be turning around!

Albert had been a little skeptical of Meghan’s prowess at first, but as he watched her work in the castle’s old alchemy lab, his opinion of her steadily rose. She walked from beaker to flask, occasionally filling one and then with a snap of her fingers causing a small blue flame to come into being underneath it. Another concoction began stirring itself in midair at her direction, and she beamed when she saw how impressed he was.

“This is amazing,” he breathed, looking at the bubbling liquids, “and you say you have no formal training?”

“I’m what they call a natural,” she said with a grin, “the free wizards who taught me a thing or two said that I’ve got the makings of an archmage, but…” she bit her lip.

“But what?” he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t really get along in the academic world,” she said, “too stuffy, didn’t even spend one month at the Imperial Academy before I got kicked out for… pushing my limits.”

“Pushing your limits?” he inquired uncertainly.

“Some things blew up, and some stuff that was expensive got a little…” she shrugged, “broken I guess.” She his horrified look she held up her hands, “don’t worry! Nothing I’m working with down here blows up…” She frowned, “I’m pretty sure.” She licked her lips and looked at the various mixtures, “lucky thing your old wizard had almost everything I needed…”

“I’m told he was more interested in fleeing the castle with all the gold he could carry rather than potions ingredients,” Albert said tersely.

“Jeez,” Meghan laughed, “this kingdom really is up-“ she shot him a look, “up a great new path to success,” she finished, “under your wise leadership.”

“Indeed,” he said, crossing his arms.

There was a whistle from the alchemy lab, and Meghan’s eyes lit up as she ran, her blue robe trailing. She reached a bubbling purple flask and pulled off a steel stand. With a flick of her wrist the blue flame underneath puffed out of existence, and she gently swirled the liquid inside, allowing it to cool.

“It’s ready!” the magician said eagerly, wafting the fumes towards him. It had an odd citrusy smell, with an undercurrent of something like cinnamon.

“So, you just… drink it?” he asked, eyeing the mixture suspiciously.

“Yep!” Meghan said, holding it out to him, “it should increase your strength, speed, stamina, all that, to superhuman levels!” She thought a moment, “some of the stuff your old wizard was keeping down here was pretty rare so… we’re only going to have this one unless we come into a lot of money somehow.”

“So we just have the one,” he muttered, “well…” He sighed, “I think I’m taking it then.”

Meghan gulped suddenly, “Uh, hey, your majesty, Al, maybe we could let someone more… expendable, try it?”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing, “aren’t you sure it works?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, laughing nervously, “b-but you’re the king, shouldn’t you just-“

“I’m the king of this castle, three assholes who won’t let me leave, and you,” he said irritably, “the world will keep turning if something happens to me.” He looked at the potion again and suddenly felt a pang of doubt. “This won’t… kill me, will it?”

“Kill you?” Meghan laughed, “No, there’s no way it would KILL you, I mean…” she bit her lip, “yeah, definitely will not kill you, let’s leave it at that.”

“Then bottoms up,” he muttered. He took a swig of the potion, feeling the first gulp slide down his throat. It had a surprisingly sweet taste, and he smacked his lips as he brought the flask down. He’d downed maybe half of it, and was about to go back for the rest, when he felt something odd.

“Is it supposed to itch?” he asked suddenly, “It feels like my clothes are sliding against my-“

“Oh no,” Meghan said, hands over her mouth.

“OH NO!?” he shouted, “What OH NO!?” he looked his hands and realized that they’d disappeared into his sleeves. He gasped in shock as he realized the flask with the potion was becoming heavier, and the ceiling of the room was getting further away. “Gods above,” he whispered, watching Meghan’s concerned face seem to drift away from him as he got smaller.

“Give me that!” she shouted, grabbing the flask from his shrinking form just before it became too heavy. He didn’t have time to protest or argue as his robe fell around him like a collapsing tent, hiding him from view. He struggled in the purple velvet, unsure of which way was out or where the world had gone.

Meghan stared in silence at the moving bump in the pile of the king’s clothing, “Oh I am so fired,” she moaned in a low voice. With a sigh she put the flask back on the table, and gently prodded the robes with her foot, nudging them out of the way and trying to expose the tiny king.

Albert blinked as light filled his cloth prison, and he almost fainted when he saw Meghan’s giant shoe holding a way open for him out of his own robe. Seeing no other choice, he nervously walked forward, trying to hold a hand over his privates while shivering at the cold air of the castle’s dungeon upon his naked skin.

“M-Meghan?” he stuttered, looking up at the titanic woman standing before him. No, not titanic, she was… he gulped, she was normal sized, he was small, a few inches at most.

“Okay,” she began, “this is obviously not what we wanted, but-“

“I’m the size of a mouse!” he shouted angrily.

There was a sudden knock on the door, “We heard shouting,” one of the guards said, “why’s this door locked?”

Meghan’s eyes went wide, and she looked down to him, “Meghan,” he said slowly, “don’t do anything-“

“I’m not going to jail or getting executed for this!” She hissed. “Sorry King Al, but…” She bit her lip, “I need to hide you until I can fix everything!”

He tried to flee, but she bent down and snatched him up effortlessly. The banging on the door increased, and Meghan glanced at it, and then to the tiny man squirming like a worm in her fist. With an apologetic smile she pulled the neck of her robe away, revealing a tight brassiere underneath which contained a petite pair of breasts.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “don’t panic, seriously, I’ll fix this!”

“NO!” he tried to call, but she was already reaching down towards her underwear, stuffing him easily inside.

He was immediately pressed between the cloth and the supple flesh, trapped in darkness as the giant magician walked to answer the door. He grimaced as the smell of her sweat and something else… an incense maybe? Filled his senses. The robes she wore were clearly too heavy for the climate, judging by just how damp she was here. If nothing else, the lubrication from the oily skin and dried sweat did give him some freedom to move, and he decided he’d fight his way out and try to get someone’s attention.

“Where’s the king?” he heard a muffled voice, the guard, ask.

“He uh…” Meghan began, “he said he was finally going to get away!”

“What!?” The guard shouted, “oh, if the king runs away Sines’ll have our heads! We won’t be able to find another royal bastard for the throne you know! The king only had so many!”

“That uh, that sucks,” Meghan said nervously, “quick, you guys better go check all the doors!”

“Right, come on!” the other guard shouted, and from his place trapped against her breast Albert could hear the clattering of footsteps as the guards went to stop his alleged escape attempt.

“Phew,” Meghan said, wiping sweat from her forehead. Suddenly her hair stood on end as the struggling king traced across her nipple. She giggled and clasped a hand to her breast, forcing him into it. “Naughty naughty!” she said, kneading her breast and mashing the tiny man.

Albert grunted as he sank into the soft flesh, her pert nipple the size of his entire head poking at him as Meghan tormented him. His hair was soaked through with her sweat now, and the flowing liquid seemed to carry that strange incense smell that covered her with it, permeating his own skin and seeming to mark him as the sorceresses own.

“Okay,” she sighed, the brief levity of teasing the shrunken king had given her a moment of mental clarity. “Now how do you get out of this one Meghan?”

Albert growled angrily, and tried forcing his way out of her bra again. She sighed, reaching a hand in to fish him out. She fought down a giggle as she dangled him by one arm in front of her face, he was completely soaked with her sweat, and giving her the most adorable angry look.

“Sorry,” she said, “the robes don’t really breathe, and it’s pretty stuffy down here… Anyway, we need to come to a sort of… understanding,” Meghan said slowly, “I’ll admit, I messed this one up.”

“How big of you,” he snarled.

She snorted with laughter, “Yeah, BIG of me,” She composed herself and continued, “I’m going to fix you, I promise, but you need to promise ME you’re not going to do anything crazy like have me executed once you’re back to normal.”

“Yes, fine, whatever,” he said angrily.

“Also I get to stay court wizard,” she added.

“Absolutely not!” he howled, “I can’t believe you’d even have the audacity to-“

“Fine,” she sniffed, “I’ll just go, but I’ll leave you right here on the floor.” She grinned, “I’m sure you’ll be able to signal for help before someone accidentally steps on you, or you get eaten by rats or something, and I’m sure you’ll find another mage who works for free who can fix you right up.”

“You’ve made your point,” he muttered, “fine, you can stay court wizard.” He wasn’t intending to keep that promise, but he needed her, for now at least.

“You know,” she mused, “those three idiots who forced you into this job might actually prefer you like this…” She grinned, “can’t abdicate your throne and run away at a few inches tall, maybe I’ll just take you right to Sines?”

“No!” Albert shouted, “Look, Meghan, why don’t we just keep this to ourselves?”

“Hmm…” she said, rubbing her chin, “We could, but to make an antidote for this potion I’m going to need to buy a few things… and I don’t have any money. Do you see the problem here?”

He sighed, desperately trying to think of a way to regain control of the situation. Suddenly an idea struck him, it wasn’t a good idea really, but it WAS an idea.

“I’ve got some gold hidden up in the royal bedroom,” he said slowly, “enough to buy whatever you need.”

“Now we’re talking!” Meghan said with a smile. She adjusted her glasses as she held him closer, giggling as he tried to squirm away and keep himself covered, “I’m going to have to hide you again.”

“Can’t you just carry me?” he protested.

“No, you could be seen,” Meghan said with a smug look, “but if you don’t want to go back in my top you could go a little… lower.”

“Top is fine,” he said, nodding eagerly.

“A wise course of action your majesty,” she chuckled.

She reached into her robe again, pulling the brassiere away from her skin. This time she lowered him in slowly, making she his body was practically straddling her nipple as it pushed into his stomach. With one final smug smirk she released it, trapping in him the darkness of her bosom again as she pulled her robe back up.

As she walked, she hummed a tune to herself, occasionally giggling as she felt the king squirm against her. Having fallen into this situation was giving Meghan thoughts… she was sure she could fix him, with the right items of course, but she was wondering if it would be a good idea to do it right away…

Albert was a handsome fellow, cute really, and with the state of the Baldanian kingdom being… well, to be blunt she wouldn’t even call it a kingdom at all at this point, just a few fools in a castle clinging to the notion, but the important thing was this was a king who was probably free to court a commoner… say his court wizard? Yes, that would be grand, a sorcerer-queen, just the thing this realm would need to whip it into shape. And Albert? She’d dangle that growth potion in front of him, oh yes, he’d be her little pet king, and that potion could take so long to brew, and so difficult… By the time she finally got around to giving it to him, he’d be perfectly obedient to her every whim.

She grinned, yes, it would be good to be the queen. The kingdom had some very dangerous problems, to be sure, but she’d give them her best shot. If all else failed, she could always tuck her little prize away in her travel bag and flee across the border, someone else could save the world while her tiny toy rubbed her feet in a comfy inn somewhere.

She opened the door to the tower and, with a quick look around, reached into her robes to pull the king out again. He gasped at the fresh air, and she laughed again, curling her fingers around him. She was a fairly small woman, and a part of her relished being able to overpower a young man like this, particularly such a pretty one…

“Where’s the gold?” She asked.

“Just a moment,” Albert looked to the edge of the room, and sighed with relief when he saw the balcony doors were open. He shot one last glance up at Meghan, then took a deep breath, “CYRENE!” He shouted as loud as he could, “HELP! HELP ME-“

Meghan’s thumb casually came up and covered his whole face, muting his screams, and she couldn’t help but laugh again at how easily her thumb overpowered him.

“Who do you think is going to hear you at that size?” She mocked. “I can barely hear you when I’m holding you in my hand!”

There was a thump from behind her, and a series of red feathers drifted to the ground in front of the stunned mage.

“Harpies have excellent hearing and eyesight,” a female voice said ominously. “Helps us catch small prey from very high up…”

Meghan whipped around, sparks crackling around her fingertips, but the harpy’s talon slammed her into the ground, splintering the wood around the stunned magician. Albert screamed as he was thrown into the air, but the harpy’s eyes instantly tracked him, snatching him in a clawed hand with ease. She stopped herself from reflexively popping him into her mouth like he was a flying insect, giggling slightly at the notion as she focused on the human squirming in her grip.

“Albert?” She breathed, “y-you’re-“

“Tiny, I know,” said. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at the harpy’s kind smile.

“I don’t know what king-stuff you were doing Albert,” she said chidingly, “but this doesn’t look very relaxing at all.”

“No,” he laughed in spite of himself, “it’s been very stressful.”

She gave him a sympathetic look, then she slowly lifted him up to that wild red hair. She tucked him in amongst it, smoothing it and brushing it around him slightly, doing her best to tighten the red forest around him and hold him in place.

He settled in, letting that surprisingly soft and silky mane flow around him, enveloping him like a flowing river as he leaned against her scalp. That earthy mountain-air smell filled his nostrils, surrounding him and soothing him. He felt a little ridiculous, poking his head out of the harpy’s matted hair like a chick poking it’s head out of a nest, but he also felt warm, secure, and maybe more importantly, given his naked state, covered. He hugged the hair tightly as she tilted her head, managing to stay in his comfortable perch as the pair of them regarded the mage trapped beneath the harpy’s talons.

“So, magic-girl,” Cyrene began casually, “do you want to tell me why my friend is the size of a tasty little chipmunk?”

“P-Potion,” Meghan managed. The harpy eased up on her, allowing her to breathe a little easier, but one of those sharp black talons hovered uncomfortably close to the girl’s neck, causing her to gulp.

“Did you do it on purpose?” Cyrene asked, tracing the claw along Meghan’s skin, she pressed enough that the girl would feel the sharpness, but not enough to break the skin.

“N-No,” Meghan said, “It was an accident! I swear!”

“Hmm…” Cyrene said, “Albert, do you think she’s telling the truth?”

“I think so,” he said. His grip on the harpy’s hair tightened as he thought of what to do, “Don’t hurt her please,” he said finally, “I need her to brew an antidote to this.” He glared angrily at Meghan, causing her to cringe in fear, “And as much as I hate to admit it… we DO need a court wizard.” He felt very imposing suddenly, and it didn’t matter that he was a few inches tall, nestled in a harpy’s hair like a stray ribbon, “Meghan,” he said firmly, “There will be nothing from here on out but the strictest obedience to the crown.”

“Yeah,” Cyrene agreed, “No more funny business! And you’re going to fix Albert right away!”

“It’ll take a few days to get an antidote ready,” Meghan protested.

“That’s okay!” Cyrene said cheerfully, “I’ll take care of Albert until then, he’s so much cuter like this anyway!”

“Erm, yes,” he said, “I think I’ll be staying close to Cyrene until this matter is… resolved.”

“Oh,” Cyrene said offhandedly, lifting her leg to let the mage up, “If you try to run, you won’t get away.”

“What?” Meghan asked fearfully, rubbing her throat.

“You won’t get away,” Cyrene said casually. She stepped back on those talons, the sharp points clicking on the floor as she gave Meghan space. “I can fly faster than any horse, and I can count the hairs on a rabbit’s ears from half a mile up.” She shrugged, spreading her feathery wings out in an exaggerated gesture, “You ever see a hawk catch a rabbit?”

“Yeah?” Meghan said nervously, rising to her feet.

“Well,” Cyrene chuckled, scratching the floor with a rugged *skritch* “let’s just say you’re the rabbit.” She laughed at Meghan’s fearful expression, “Don’t worry though! So long as you do what King Albert wants, we can be really good friends!”

“Looking forward to it,” Meghan gulped, “I’ll uh, just go get started on the potion…” She scurried to the door, slamming it as she ran.

Cyrene reached up to her head, plucking Albert from the comfortable nest of her red hair. He shivered as she lowered him down to her face, looking longingly at the perch.

“Aw,” she cooed, “is someone cold?” She giggled at his reaction, “you can go back in a minute… I want to talk a bit.”

“Uh, sure,” he said. It wasn’t like he had a choice really; the harpy literally held his life in the palm of her hand.

“Albert,” she began, tilting her head slightly, “I didn’t really want to stick my beak in your king-stuff, but…” she bit her lip, as if searching for the words, “I really like you,” she said finally, “you might be my favorite human I’ve ever met. You let me share the tower with you, you even sleep in the nest with me and you come back at night without being caught or chased down or anything!”

“I like you too Cyrene,” he said awkwardly, “but I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“I’m just worried you’re going to get hurt,” she said, “so… this isn’t normally something harpies do, but… I really think I’m going to start going with you to your king-stuff, and maybe helping you out with it.”

“I uh… don’t know what to say,” he said. The truth was he honestly felt an immense wave of relief. Cyrene seemed like a genuine friend, and whatever he would deal with in the coming days… surely it would be easier with an eight-foot monster capable of tearing a man to pieces on his side. He collapsed backward onto the harpy’s palm, she smiled and twirled one of her clawed fingertips through his hair.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, “I got you one of those bells! The farmer was pretty mad, but he was too slow to stop me.”

“Thanks Cyrene,” he laughed.

“You can’t really ring it at this size,” she mused, “but don’t feel too sad, I have another idea to help cheer you up.” She leered down at his naked body and licked her lips. She brought her other arm up over him, the soft curtain of her feathers hanging down like a lush crimson waterfall, shining as she slowly traced them over him.

The sensation caused him to shiver, his body tingling as that wall of feathers passed over him. He was bathed in her fresh alpine scent, and he took a sharp breath as the feathers finished brushing him as quickly as they’d come.

“Feels good right?” Cyrene said softly, “harpy feathers are exceptionally soft and silky… they feel so good that some humans think they might be magical.” She shrugged as she began moving her wing across him again, causing another wave of ecstasy and sensation as the feathers traced across his body.

“Are they magical?” She whispered, “I don’t know… wouldn’t that be cool? If I had a magic power?” She giggled as the feathers left him again, dusting over his entire body and tantalizing every nerve. He was rock hard when the feathers passed over him the third time, and the fourth time he spasmed and arched his back, almost rolling in her hand.

“You better not spray your seed on those feathers,” she laughed, “if you do, you’re cleaning it all out!”

He tried to reply, but the wing passed over him again, and he gritted his teeth as the soft feathers seemed to cradle his body, brushing through every hidden place and deeper still. He squirmed to either side, those strong fingers holding him in place while the harpy continued to run her silky-soft feathers over him, in a simple wave pattern, and then in a circular pattern that left him closing his eyes and groaning involuntarily.

The wing lifted up suddenly, and he opened his eyes in shock to see Cyrene’s giant face coming down towards him. She winked, and then a tongue as big as he was snaked out of her mouth, the soft wet appendage going right between his legs and licking his aching manhood. This was the beginning of the end, she’d teased him to the very brink with her feathers, and now, with a tongue that could easily crush the life from him if she’d wanted, she was going to push him over.

He sighed, his head lolling back in her hand as he sprayed the pink wall that had descended to complete his torment. The bliss seemed to last forever, and he finally felt his body go limp, completely exhausted and defeated by the simple flick of a few feathers and a single lick.

Cyrene leaned back up, withdrawing her tongue and his spent seed. Looking down at him she smiled and gave an exaggerated swallow, tracing a single clawed finger down her throat as she groaned lustily.

“That was a nice little treat,” she said, licking her lips one final time, “I’ll have to get a larger serving once we have your size fixed.”

She brought his limp form back up to her flowing hair, gently placing him back in the comfortable confines of her crimson mane. He lay on his stomach, allowing himself to grow tangled in it, letting the strands wrap and warm him. Cyrene giggled, patting him and gently pushing him into place so he’d stay.

It occurred to him that, perhaps being king wasn’t so bad after all.

The royal throne of Baldania was sized for a large man, most of the previous monarchs having taken it by force. For Cyrene, it was just barely big enough, and she crossed her avian legs as she shifted uncomfortably. Albert’s head poked out of her hair, well aware of how ridiculous he looked as he surveyed the throne room. Per his orders Sines, Meghan, and his two knights were present.

“Your majesty,” Sines said, rubbing his hands, “Perhaps we should put royal affairs on hold until your condition is-“

“Stuff it!” he shouted, not so much from anger as necessity, it was hard to be heard at this size. “Listen up, there are going to be some changes around here. First off, those two!” his arm darted out of the crimson forest, “no more following me around!”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” Sines said grudgingly, “If your majesty could refrain from attempting to… abdicate.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said with a grin, “I’m not going anywhere! Now, let’s get down to business, we’ve got a bandit invasion, an undead army, and an economic collapse to deal with, but it’s going to be all right!”

“Oh good,” Meghan said with relief, “I thought we were going to have to deal with all that.”

He scowled, “It’s going to be all right because we ARE going to deal with it!”

“That’s right!” Cyrene said with a smile, “I mean come on, we’re all smart people right? We’ll figure it out!”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Albert said with as much confidence as he could muster, “we might have hit rock bottom, but this kingdom has nowhere to go but up!”

Chapter End Notes:

This is intended as the first part in a 2-3 part story. I don't think it's a critical spoiler to say that Cyrene the harpy will end up getting a lot bigger by the end of this.

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