Albert woke up again, and as always, he took a deep breath, savoring that scent that always seemed to cling to Cyrene’s hair. This time though, there was another under it, a musky, almost tangy smell mixed in with the crisp alpine one he loved. The hair he was tangled in for his bedding was coarser than that on her head, and it wrapped around him and trapped him much more easily.

He heard a giggle and a gasp as he turned over. Freeing himself from the tangled weave of red curls, he peered up through the “forest.” An amused harpy looked back down at him; her faraway face just slightly flushed.

“Sleep well?” She asked.

“It was definitely nice and warm,” he said with a smile.

“It’s about to get warmer,” Cyrene smirked.

Her taloned finger came down, pressing his naked body down into the tangles of her fiery red bush. He was forced along her skin, the coarse hair brushing against his own as she pushed him lower along her body. He soon felt a warm slimy feeling beginning with his feet, then his legs, torso, and finally his face as the giant harpy brought him fully against her slick womanhood.

He gulped nervously, then grunted as a finger came from behind, forcing his head against a clitoris the size of his face. The harpy moaned in pleasure, and he felt the lips below him growing wetter, his body sinking further into the pink cavern as it seemed almost eager to welcome him in.

He breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself at the prospect of being put… inside of Cyrene. He’d suspected that this would happen at some point while he was small, and the thought of what was about to happen had him rock hard already. Still, he couldn’t fight back all of his fear.

“Ready?” Cyrene whispered above.

“Yes,” he said simply, shutting his eyes as he prepared for the inevitable. He didn’t have to wait long, that clawed finger pressed against his back, flat so as not to poke him with it’s sharpness. Like a long-lost lover, Cyrene’s most intimate place swallowed him up, slimy flesh pulling him deeper even as her fingers left him.

It didn’t take him long to right himself, his head pointing inwards as he crawled deeper. He couldn’t hear anything but Cyrene’s heartbeat now, and it seemed to pulse like a drumbeat as the pillowy walls around him compressed and released as he struggled against them.

Cyrene groaned happily, a smile crossing her face as he began to wriggle inside her, caught like a worm. Her finger traced down, toying with her clit as Albert squirmed against her insides.

“Yes,” she breathed with a smile, “come on, fight!”

Meghan rolled over, muttering as she blinked awake on the far side of the nest. She’d let Cyrene put her in here the night before, and she had to admit, it was more comfortable than she’d expected.

As her vision focused, her eyes bulged as she saw what the harpy was doing. She stared for a moment, watching Cyrene finger herself and shout encouragement to a king she couldn’t see, but who’s location she could easily guess.

“Whoa,” Meghan muttered.

The brief noise was enough for Cyrene to glance at her, giving her a grin even as she continued to finger herself.

“Meghan,” she breathed, “sorry to wake you, I-“ she stopped to gasp as Albert squirmed in just the right way. “I’m just playing with Albert a little!”

“W-Where is he?” Meghan breathed, wide eyed. She had a feeling she already knew, but Cyrene gestured down with her head and gave the mage a grin.

Albert felt the walls around him contract again, squishing and squeezing him as the harpy continued to pleasure herself. Every movement he made caused an earthquake, the slick flesh pummeling him back and forth as he was overpowered by even the smallest contractions of Cyrene’s arousal.

“Meghan,” Cyrene said with a devious grin, “come over here a minute.”

Almost in a trance, the mage crawled over the nest towards the harpy. Cyrene gently guided the smaller woman between her legs, giving Meghan a good view of the amazonian harpy as she leered down at her. Meghan’s heart was pounding, unsure of what Cyrene wanted.

“L-Listen,” Meghan stuttered, “I know the girl’s dorms in the imperial mage academy have a certain reputation, but it’s all just-“

“Shh,” Cyrene hushed her, her clawed hand circled the back of Meghan’s head and slowly guided the small woman’s face down. Meghan’s protests stopped as her face was buried in Cyrene’s waiting pussy, and Cyrene gasped and ground her hips upward as Meghan began eating her out without further protest. The combined motions of Meghan’s tongue and Alberts squirming were driving her wild, and she almost screamed as her arousal built.

Meghan felt Cyrene’s massive taloned hand squeeze the back of her head, grinding her against the harpy’s pussy and tangled red hair. Meghan licked as fast as she could, the juices covering her face and filling her with the taste and smell of the monster’s womanhood.

Albert felt something touching the bottom of his feet, it came again, and he gasped as it seemed to hook around his feet, pulling him out slightly. A tongue!? Meghan’s maybe? He grunted and tried to crawl deeper into Cyrene, fleeing the probing appendage.

Cyrene shouted one more time, her whole body going rigid as a pair of powerful thighs clamped around Meghan’s face. Albert was suddenly pushed outward, the muscles contracting as the flood of liquid delivered him right into Meghan’s waiting mouth.

“Did you catch him?” Cyrene asked, smiling and panting.

“Mm hmm” Meghan said, nodding.

“Good job,” Cyrene said, twirling her hair.

Albert’s world was dark, and he felt his heartbeat pick up again as Meghan’s tongue played with him. The last time he’d been in a woman’s mouth he’d been swallowed, and he wasn’t eager to have it happen again. He sighed with relief when Meghan spat him into her cupped hands a moment later.

The mage’s face was slick with Cyrene’s fluids, and her short hair was mussed and standing on end. She had a flushed expression on her face as she looked down at the naked king in her hands.

“Hold still,” Cyrene said lazily. She reached over to the side of the nest, where a small alcove was built into the walls. A collection of seeds, shiny buttons, and other assorted “treasures” the harpy collected sat inside, and Albert and Meghan watched curiously as Cyrene fumbled around a moment, her taloned hand coming out with a shimmering pink ribbon. Leaning forward, she started tying it in a bow on Meghan’s head.

“Uh, thanks,” Meghan said, “but… why?”

“Just marking you as a nest-wife,” Cyrene said as if it was obvious.

“W-What?” Meghan stammered.

“Well yeah,” Cyrene said with a smile, “a nice little ribbon will let any other harpies around know you’re taken.”

“I don’t know if I want to be a nest-wife!” Meghan said, wide eyed.

Cyrene frowned, “Well, Albert and I are getting married soon, we’ll probably want at least one. You seem pretty obedient, and you’re super cute too!” She sighed happily, “It’s so exciting!”

“Hey!” Meghan shouted, “I’m not obedient!”

“That’s not the word I’d use either,” Albert said, laughing, “Cyrene, I think we’ll be okay without picking up any… nest-wives.” He frowned, “how exactly do harpy families work, anyway?”

Cyrene shrugged, “Well, most harpies just grab men they like, then once you have a husband, you can grab a nest-wife to do extra stuff for you, cook, clean, take care of your husband and chicks while you’re out hunting, stuff like that. My momma always said that things work a lot easier if you only take humans that want to go with you though, otherwise you’ve got to tame them.”

“Tame them?” Meghan squeaked.

“Keep them on a leash, tie them up while you go hunting, maybe give a few spankings,” Cyrene said obliviously.

Meghan’s face grew redder, and the mage licked her lips, thinking about it… her mind was going to some… interesting places, not at all where she thought it would on being threatened with a “taming.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing any of that,” Cyrene said, “momma never did it to poppa or any of my aunties, and they seem to like her a lot more than a lot of other husbands or nest wives, my human siblings even still come to visit her sometimes.”

“Human siblings?” Meghan asked incredulously.

“Half-siblings I guess humans would call them,” she said, thinking. “Anyways, I don’t think I’m doing any taming, I mean Albert, you don’t seem like you’re going to run away.”

“Not from you,” he chuckled. “We’d better start getting dressed, Brodda and Morwen are supposed to get here sometime soon.”

As Cyrene again looked over the castle’s old dolls for an outfit for him, he couldn’t help but notice that Meghan didn’t remove the ribbon from her hair as she put her robe on.

…

“So Sines, you old bastard,” Brodda said, regarding the court chancellor, “what’s your game with this tiny king? You planning on running things from the shadows? Maybe skimming some gold for yourself?”

Sines just chuckled as they waited for the king to arrive, “Honestly? I was planning to do exactly that! I figured it would be easy enough to isolate the fool boy and do whatever I wanted, but although his rulership has been… unorthodox so far, he’s brought this kingdom back from the brink of ruin in a few days, so I think I’m going to see where this goes.” He shrugged, “if he keeps things up like he has, I’ll make more money and have more power just following him.”

Morwen, Sines, Brodda, and the regular two knights all turned as the throne room door opened. As usual the minute king’s head poked out of the harpy’s red hair, and Cyrene smiled down at the humans as she walked over to the throne and took a seat. Behind her the court mage followed, taking her place with the other advisors.

“Let’s get started,” Albert said as Cyrene settled into the throne. “Brodda, how goes the tax collecting?”

The former bandit shrugged, “honestly, it’s not that far off from the robbery we were doing before, people do seem a lot more willing to hand over their coin with a letter from you though. Still, a lot of them aren’t happy, taxes haven’t been collected in this kingdom for years.”

Albert laughed, “I have to admit, I never liked the idea of taxes, then I became king, and my opinion on them improved dramatically.” He turned to Sines, “Now then, the threats to the kingdom?”

“The lich is still gathering his forces,” Sines said, “reports indicate he has raised tens of thousands of skeletons and horrible walking corpses with his dread necromancy.”

“If we kill him, do they all die too?” he asked.

“Yep!” Meghan said excitedly, “well, unless someone else starts powering them…” her eyes lit up, “Albert, can I get a skeleton?!”

“Why in the name of the gods would you want a skeleton?” Morwen said, crossing her arms with disgust.

“I just think they’re neat!” Meghan said, “he could like, carry my books and stuff. I’ll call him boney!”

“I don’t know if I want you dabbling in necromancy,” Albert said, rubbing his forehead and sinking into the pool of red hair with a sigh, “and the dragon, Sines?”

“She’s mostly just harassing villagers, as far as I’m told,” the chancellor explained, “eating livestock, stealing things, she got bored with the theater troupe and let them go at least.”

“Morwen,” he said, turning to her, “you’re immune to magic, right? Can you kill this beast?”

Morwen raised an eyebrow, “I’m resistant to magic, sure, but it still hurts when your pipsqueak wizard hurls lightning bolts at me, and I don’t know if dragon fire is magical or not, seems like I wouldn’t know until I was already on fire or not. That’s assuming the beast’s claws and teeth don’t become a problem first.”

“How did that whole anti-magic thing happen anyway?” Meghan said, looking over her curiously. The barest hint of some Morwen’s scars could be seen across her breasts in the low-cut shirt she was wearing. Meghan bit her lip and walked closer, reaching out almost unconsciously as though to touch them.

“I wouldn’t,” Brodda said in a low voice, “Morwen isn’t fond of your kind.”

“I can take care of myself brother,” Morwen growled, “I was just waiting for her to get a little closer…”

Meghan gulped and took a few steps back, “J-Just professional curiosity!” she stammered.

Morwen just glared at her, then turned back to the king, “My liege, why not have the harpy deal with the dragon? I can lead a small squad of men to provide support with some cannons. The mage is useless, spells don’t work on dragons, but cannonballs might do the trick.”

“Ugh,” Cyrene shuddered, “I don’t like fire, and I don’t like anything scaly either, lizards, snakes,” the harpy thought it over, “I guess if I came down at her really fast from really high up, it could be over quick…”

“Dragons aren’t known to die easily,” Brodda remarked.

“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Albert said, stroking a tuft of silky red hair as he thought, “I don’t want Cyrene hurt or killed fighting that thing, and diverting men and heavy weaponry to the west might leave us weak if the Lich decides to come for us.”

“I’ll fight it for you,” Cyrene insisted, “I mean… I don’t WANT to, but I will…”

He smiled, “Thanks, but you’ve done enough, and you’ll have to do more for me later.” He shrugged, “Brodda, we’ve got a good amount of gold, don’t we?”

“You’ve probably got more than any other Baldanian king has had in a long time,” Brodda remarked, “don’t go spending it all in one place now, the men love me, and really, who wouldn’t?” he said with a smile, “but it’s going to be a lot easier to keep them in line with regular pay.”

“Pay is what I’m thinking,” he mused, “dragons love gold, right? Why don’t we just offer her some to leave?”

“You want to… pay her?” Sines asked incredulously, “my liege, such a display of weakness would-“

“Save us from dealing with problems on two fronts,” Albert said, “if the dragon carries off the treasury, we’re poor, I’ve been poor before, it’s not so bad. I’ve never been dead though, and I don’t think it will agree with me. Cyrene will fly me over to the dragon and we can hash out a deal.”

…

Cyrene took a deep breath, the purple sparks crackling along her wings as she grew to an enormous height once more. The harpy loved the feeling of growing, the power of her expanding form coursing through her as she blocked out the sun to the watching humans in the courtyard below. She spread her wings, casting a shadow over the entire castle town as she flapped them once, causing a gust that could be felt throughout the village. The naked harpy loomed large over the castle like a divine goddess, her red feathers shimmering in the morning sunlight.

“Right,” Albert said, hands on his hips, “Meghan, if you could pick me up-“

“I really don’t want to go flying again,” the mage whined, “can’t you just go by yourself?”

“I need someone to hold me,” he said impatiently, “at this size, and with her at THAT size… I’m little more than a flea to her, I can’t stay in her hair safely on my own.”

“Let the cowardly little spellslinger stay on the ground,” Morwen spat, leaning down to pick him up, “It’s not like she could have helped against a dragon anyways. I’ll go with you.”

“Uh, thanks,” Meghan muttered, watching Morwen’s fingers curl around Albert, “is that okay Al?”

He chewed his lip, thinking even as the warrior-woman lifted him to her face. He didn’t know Morwen well, and after she’d tortured him in her armpit, and then swallowed him whole, he harbored a certain amount of fear towards her… along with some other, more confusing feelings. He blinked and shook his head, being tiny was affecting his thought process, he reasoned. That had to be it, that was why he suddenly enjoyed these enormous women doing… things, to him.

“Morwen can carry me,” he decided finally. She was Brodda’s second in command, and seemingly the person the former bandit leader trusted most in the world, they’d probably be working together a lot, and he’d just have to force himself to get over the circumstances of their meeting.

“Try not to eat him this time,” Brodda said with a smirk, causing both Morwen and Albert to glare at him.

“Should you really be teasing people about getting eaten?” Cyrene giggled overhead. She winked at the suddenly pale Brodda, “I skipped breakfast this morning…” she licked her lips, and this time Morwen and Albert shared a quick smile as Brodda quickly left, stammered something about needing to drill the recruits.

Cyrene’s hand came down, and Morwen gingerly stepped onto it, sitting down as the pair was elevated up to Cyrene’s hair.

“I’m sorry about the stuff I did when we met,” Morwen said suddenly, “I just… I really needed my brother back.”

“It’s okay, really,” he insisted, “we’re all on the same side now, and honestly? Being tiny, sometimes embarrassing things happen to you.”

“Did the wizard do it?” Morwen asked angrily, tying a strand of Cyrene’s hair around her stomach as the harpy prepared to take off.

“Not intentionally,” he sighed, “and honestly? It’s given me a new perspective on some things, I’m not entirely upset it’s happened.” He grinned, “some things about it have been… interesting.”

…

Cyrene soared through the air, crossing the kingdom in a matter of hours. On her head Morwen smiled, the wind rushing through her hair as she fought the urge to cry out in joy as she watched the world pass below her. How could the wizard hate this? This was amazing!

She’d been fighting an urge for most of the flight, and as she looked at Albert in her hands she bit her lip, her face flushed from embarrassment.

“Albert,” she shouted over the roaring wind, “C-Can I put you somewhere so I have my hands free?”

“Sure, like a pocket or-“ His face went as crimson as the hair that surrounded them as Morwen gently placed him at her chest, wedging him slowly into the soft cleavage. He very quickly recognized the earthy smell of the woman’s sweat, thankfully not nearly as strong this time, and the breasts seemed to swallow him up, compressing him on either side and holding him in place. Morwen’s chest was big enough that there was no need to tighten her top or shove him against the fabric, her cleavage alone was enough to snuggly hold him in place.

Satisfied that her king was secure, Morwen climbed higher up on Cyrene’s head, the “safety line” of hair trailing behind her as she grinned eagerly, looking out at the world flying by below them. Her own hair whipped around her face and she laughed happily.

…

Alexis the dragon stomped through the center of a village, ignoring the screaming humans at her feet. She just rolled her eyes at the reaction, and gazed over them to see if any caught her eye. She licked her lips as she noticed one man, in armor and with a sword, trying to direct the others as they ran. A real warrior maybe? A clawed hand reached out for him, the shimmering red scales of her forearm glittering in the sun as she curled her fingers around him.

“My my,” she mused, smoke briefly billowing from her nostrils as slitted reptilian eyes focused in on him, “you must be the town’s sheriff?”

“D-Do what you want with me!” he called, “just please don’t hurt anyone else!”

“Brave!” she said excitedly, “and a real man’s man too, look at those arms…” she lifted the panicking man’s arm forcibly, feeling the pulsing bicep under his shirt. A forked serpentine tongue slithered out of her mouth, dancing out over him as a few puffs of smoke billowed from Alexis’s very human looking nose. “What a fine flavor,” she mused, “just a bit of sweat… I’ll have to get you all cleaned off.”

“Gods no,” the man whispered in horror as he was tasted again. He scowled and steeled himself, shutting his eyes tight.

“Relax sweetie,” she said with a surprisingly girlish giggle, “I just want you to come have dinner with me, maybe chat a little.” She pouted, an odd expression on human lips, and her flared and scaled ears drooped mockingly, “aww… I am kind of scary, aren’t I?” She waited a moment, until the human finally opened his eyes, not sure what she was waiting for.

“I-If you aren’t going to hurt me, then please let me go!”

“In due time,” she mused, “tell me my little hero, do you think I’m pretty?”

The sheriff’s eyes went wide, was this a trick? He gulped nervously and tried to guess what the monster wanted him to say. She certainly wasn’t ugly, although her arms and legs ended in taloned and scaled appendages, the woman, and it WAS a woman for certain, had an almost human stature, with normal looking skin over most of her form, and a pair of impressive breasts that would catch a man’s eye at any size. While her face had a few scales tracing up her cheeks, it was the face of a beautiful woman. She had a regal look to her, and if she’d been human he wouldn’t be surprised to find she was a noble, but a moment later those massive leathern wings flapped behind her casually, and as that thick scaled tale swished impatiently behind her he reminded himself that this was a dragon.

“Y-You certainly are beautiful,” the sheriff shouted, “b-but I only truly have eyes for my wife!”

“Wife!?” Alexis said, her spirit deflating as she noticed a tiny gold band around the man’s finger. She sighed, “Yes, of course, your wife, she’s a lucky woman.” She slowly lowered the married man to the ground, glancing jealously at him one last time, before flapping her wings and lifting off into the sky again.

Alexis swore angrily, all the good men in this kingdom were taken! She flew low, breathing a torrent of fire over a field of barley in her anger. It singed and smoldered as she flew on, smoke rising behind her as a testament to her wrath. She’d steal a few barrels of wine and spend the evening pigging out on smoked brisket and baked goods, she decided. What did it matter if you got fat if no men would court you anyway!? Maybe she’d kidnap a few bards and make them play sad songs… idly she wondered how far that theater troupe she’d been holding could have gotten, but then she scowled and pushed the idea away, she’d already seen all of their plays a dozen times each.

…

Cyrene set down outside the smoking volcano, flapping her wings a few times and causing the smoke overhead to drift away from them as she lowered Morwen and Albert to the ground.

“Someone liked flying!” the harpy laughed.

“It was amazing,” Morwen breathed, “you have to take me up there again!”

“Any time!” Cyrene said with a wink.

“This is where she’s supposed to have made her lair,” Albert muttered, looking up at the smoking mountain. “Look, there’s a cave right up there.”

“I don’t know about this,” Cyrene muttered, “I don’t really like underground stuff either…”

“You can probably stay out here,” he said, “we’ll just go in, introduce ourselves, and explain what we want. From the reports she’s not a particularly vicious dragon, she’ll probably be happy to hear our offer.”

“Right,” Cyrene muttered, “well, if it does get ugly, run out here and I’ll give her a taste of talon.”

She did a quick double take and giggled, “Albert, are you in Morwen’s boobies?”

He rolled his eyes, “It was the safest place to put me while we were-“

“Mine aren’t big enough to carry you like that I don’t think,” Cyrene said, looking down with a frown, “Meghan’s definitely aren’t… she’s got itty bitty ones.” She grinned down at Morwen, who was growing a bit uncomfortable herself, “do you like big ones Albert?”

“I uh,” he cleared his throat, looking up at Morwen, who was stammering defenses of her choice in carrying location, “I appreciate many forms of beauty!” he shouted, hoping to cut off the awkward conversation.

“Hmmm…” Cyrene replied, stroking her chin with a clawed hand, “Morwen, what color ribbons do you like?”

Morwen blinked, “I’m not sure I understand-“

“Let’s go meet with the dragon,” Albert said hastily.

…

In spite of the embarrassing conversation, he noticed Morwen had left him imprisoned in her cleavage, and it jiggled around him slightly as she entered the cave, the glowing light of lava somewhere up ahead lighting their way. Morwen had her rifle slung across her back, and rested a hand on her sword as they entered a large antechamber. Something was off, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When he was being held by someone, usually he could hear…

“Morwen,” he said suddenly, “are you okay? I don’t hear your heartbeat.”

“I don’t have a heart,” she said, peering ahead.

“Erm, you seem like a nice enough person to me,” he said reassuringly.

“No,” Morwen said in low voice, “I mean… turn around.”

He managed to work himself around, looking at one of Morwen’s scars, which traced from a place between her breasts all the way down into her shirt where he couldn’t see. He fought a shudder, it looked painful.

“They took it out,” she said quietly, “I… I actually was awake when I saw it stop beating, they just left it on a fucking table…” She was silent a moment, “they put something else in,” she said finally, “it was clear, like a crystal, but I guess that’s what moves my blood now, you might be able to hear it if I get really excited…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes wide. “I had no idea, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” Morwen said bitterly, “I’m not even sure what they were trying to do to me, when my brother found where I was, he wasn’t in a questioning mood.” A small smile traced over her features, “he made sure they’ll never do it to anyone else ever again though.”

“I know you don’t like her,” Albert said quietly, “but… Meghan could maybe learn something about it, if you let her take a look-“

“Absolutely not!” Morwen snapped, suddenly angry, “I’ve been just fine so far, and besides, I don’t know if she’s a good choice to poke and prod me. Didn’t she shrink you by accident?”

“I suppose,” he admitted with a sigh.

“It’s not so bad,” Morwen said, looking up at the ceiling of the cave a moment, “magic can’t hurt me anymore, and there are other things in life than being pretty…”

“Do you think you aren’t?” he asked curiously.

She chuckled, “the wizards spared my face, I have that much at least, but I can’t imagine anyone caring for what’s under my shirt.”

He just laughed, “Morwen, there is not a single man in the kingdom who would turn down a chance to see you take off that shirt, scars or no scars.”

“You’re nice to say that,” she chuckled.

The two of them reached a large antechamber, and Morwen peered down into the core of the volcano. The two of them frowned as a woman’s voice echoed up to them, it sounded like she was… crying? Morwen carefully peered over the edge of a rocky outcropping, spotting the draconic woman below.

She was big, maybe a bit bigger than Cyrene was at her maximum height, and shockingly human in appearance. Albert would even go as far as to say she had more human features than serpentine ones.

The dragon was halfway submerged in a glowing pool of lava as she drank from a barrel of wine. They watched as she wiped her mouth, tossed the barrel against the wall, causing it to burst into splinters, then reached for another in a large pile.

“She must have looted a vineyard,” Albert guessed.

The dragon sobbed again, blowing her nose and causing a gout of flame to fly out of her nostrils as she reached for a massive wedding cake. In one quick gulp it was gone, and she reached for a tray of pies next.

“Play another song!” she sobbed angrily. On a rocky pillar above her a very scared looking bard was strumming a lute. He began an upbeat tune, but the dragon just growled, “Not that one!” she shouted angrily, “a sad one, do one about people who find love, but then everyone dies at the end!”

“Err…” the bard paused a moment, “of course Miss Alexis!” he began a slow mournful tune.

“So, how do you want to approach this?” Morwen asked quietly.

“I guess we should probably try to get her to let go of the bard,” Albert muttered, “I’m not really a man of action, what do you think-“

“Who’s up there?” Alexis snapped. She put her barrel of wine down and peered up suspiciously. With an angry growl she spread her wings, flapping them and lifting herself out of the lava which ran down over her like water.

A massive face rose up to them, easily spotting them on the outcropping. Alexis’s slitted eyes focused on Morwen, spotting the rifle and sword at her side. The dragon tossed her head back, whisking her black hair among her curled horns as she snarled angrily.

“A monster hunter?” She growled, “Oh, this is JUST what I need today!” Her mouth opened, and Morwen’s eyes bulged as she saw a fiery glow rising from the back of the dragon’s throat.

“Wait!” Albert shouted, “We’re not here to-“

Morwen gripped him, pulling him out of her cleavage and tossing him across the cavern just as the jet of flame hit her.

“MORWEN!” He hit the floor with a grunt, scrambling to his feet and looking on in horror as white-hot flames poured out of the dragonesses mouth, so bright that he couldn’t stand to stare straight at it. He felt himself seize up, not sure what to do… He fought back a sob, then almost cried again in relief when the fire dissipated, showing Morwen’s now naked form still standing there.

Her clothing had been burned to ash almost immediately, and soot mixed with the scars that crisscrossed her body as she looked down in amazement. She tossed the molten mess of her sword to the ground at her feet, then looked up at the dragon.

“Dragon fire IS magical fire then,” she muttered.

“Hmm…” the dragon mused, “maybe I’ll have to use my claws?”

Morwen deftly leapt out of the way of the swiping talons, scooping Alfred up as she ran. Despite the apparent ineffectiveness the dragon continued to blow streams of fire at them, tracing her head just behind the naked woman as she ran for the cave’s exit. She felt the heat from the fire on the back of her neck, and with a sigh looked down at Albert.

“I’m really sorry about this,” she said, but before he could ask what, she popped him in her mouth, and swallowed him down with a loud gulp just as the flames covered her again. She winced as the heat washed over her, while it didn’t harm her exactly, it didn’t feel very good either. Her unblemished skin smoked as the fire dissipated once again, and she took solace in the fact that, while the king was probably not pleased to be in her belly again, he was safe from the dragonfire.

Albert was squeezed down her throat, panicking as the powerful muscles compressed him, plopping him once more into the soupy contents of Morwen’s stomach. He wasn’t nearly as afraid this time, and he just sighed and leaned back in the warm liquid. He was jostled about as Morwen ran, leapt, and tumbled outside, dodging attacks from the dragon.

“You’re skilled hunter,” Alexis said with a chuckle as Morwen deftly dodged a swipe of her tail, “but you won’t be taking my scales as your prize today!”

“I don’t want your scales!” Morwen shouted, “I’m not a hunter! Stop this!”

Alexis paused, debating whether to hear the woman out or not. She realized something suddenly, and she looked over her shoulder and saw with a sigh that her bard had fled during the fight. Well, that was an evening ruined, she’d need to find something else to entertain her now. Leaning over onto the outcropping the woman was on, Alexis propped her head in her hands.

“Well, you’ve let my singer escape, so I guess I have nothing better to do than hear whatever yarn you care to spin. Go on girl, this had better be interesting.”

“Uhhh…” Morwen cleared her throat, “Could you look away a minute? I swallowed something, and I need to… retrieve it.”

“Disgusting,” Alexis said, even as she obliged her and turned her head, “you’re not off to a great start you know.”

…

Albert sat in a naked and soot covered Morwen’s hand, soaked and dripping half-digested muck from his clothes. They didn’t make a dignified pair, and as he’d explained who he was and what he’d come to do, the Dragon’s imperious gaze had twisted from suspicion to amusement.

“So instead of paying adventurers to slay me, you’re just going to pay ME?” Alexis laughed, “I suppose you’re saving some money by cutting out the middleman.”

“Roughly how much gold would you need to consider leaving?” Albert said nervously, “I don’t have nearly enough for you to use as a bed like your type likes, but I think it could be the start of a good-sized hoard.”

“I don’t know,” Alexis mused, “I’m a little young to be settling down with a treasure hoard, I don’t want to spend my golden years sleeping on a pile of coins and exchanging riddles with halflings looking to pilfer it.”

“What could we offer you then?” Albert asked, “This current state of affairs is unacceptable, my subjects need peace and stability.”

“Then they should live in a different kingdom,” Alexis mused, “still, it’s odd to see you so invested in their lives… are you sure you’re human? You’re showing an odd amount of selflessness, and I didn’t think they came so small.”

“There was a potion mishap,” he said, “I can assure you that despite my size I am both human AND the king! Now, what are your demands?”

“Demands,” the dragoness muttered, “what I really want is a man.”

“A man?” Morwen asked curiously, “but… aren’t you a-“

“I don’t know if you can tell by my appearance,” she said, running a finger over the more humanlike skin on her face, her finger skipping over the scattered red scales, “but I have a lot of human lineage. I think the last full-blooded dragon in my line was my grandmother.”

“Your grandfather must have been a very brave man,” Albert said without thinking.

Luckily, she didn’t take offense, laughing uproariously and causing smoke to drift out of her nostrils, “He was!” she said excitedly, “a bit of a loon really, gods I miss him…”

“So…” Morwen began hesitantly, “what kind of man do you want exactly? I mean, there are lots of men around, they’re not hard to find…”

“Listen,” Alexis said with a smile, “Woman to woman? I’m not looking for just ANY man…” she sighed wistfully, “I want a strong type, the sort who can lead songs in a tavern, with big bulging arms!” she licked her lips, “momma wants some meat, understand?”

“I think so,” Morwen said, nodding, “so a burly type, a farmhand maybe?”

“No,” Alexis said dismissively, “nothing against them, but I want a man who’s had some adventures, that’s the only type that will be able to keep up with a dragoness, you understand?” She paused, “but he should also be loyal, someone who cares about his family! I mean we might start one after all…” she sighed again, smiling as she stared off into the distance. “Not that I’ll find a man like THAT anytime soon,” she muttered bitterly.

“A burly outgoing type, who leads a life on the edge, and who’s also a family man,” Albert said incredulously, “Look, Miss Alexis, why don’t we talk about the gold again-“

“I uh, think I know someone,” Morwen said.

Alexis’s eyes went wide and she leaned forward eagerly, “Is he single!?”

…

Cyrene frowned as she saw Morwen walking out of the volcano lair’s entrance, naked and covered in ashes. Albert was noticeably disheveled, and he looked wet.

“Did everything go okay?” she asked, bending down and extending her hand for Morwen to climb in.

“The good news is we won’t be losing the royal treasury to her,” Albert said.

“Oh,” Cyrene said, lifting them to her head, “I guess that’s good, I really like gold, it’s pretty shiny. So, what are we going to give her?”

“We need to make a few stops,” Morwen said, “I need to pick up a few things for my brother.”

…

Morwen, now fully clothed again, sat at her brother’s side. Brodda had been seated at the head of the royal dining table, and he looked appreciatively at a large roast goose before him. Meghan walked up to his side and placed a bottle of the kingdom’s finest wine at his side, and she smiled as she sat down next to Cyrene, who had returned to her normal eight-foot form, forgoing a dining chair and simply sitting on the floor.

“Wow,” Brodda laughed, “this is all of my favorite food and drink! What’s the occasion? It’s not my birthday, is it? Morwen usually tracks that kind of thing for me.”

“We just thought you have been working so hard, drilling the army, recruiting people, collecting taxes,” Albert said, perched in Cyrene’s hair.

“Oh,” Brodda said with a smile, “No trouble at all! I kind of like it actually, I was always better at bigger picture kind of stuff. Successful banditry is ninety percent planning you know.” He took a long drink from his wineglass, sighing contentedly as he placed it back down by his plate. “How did things go with the dragon by the way? Did his majesty manage to stay out of my sister’s belly?”

Morwen coughed uncomfortably. Brodda’s eyes went wide, and he looked back and forth from his sister, then to Albert, then just started chuckling, then laughing as his wine shot out of his nose.

“Y-You’re joking!” he wheezed, “it happened again?”

“Circumstances necessitated it,” Albert said tersely, “So Brodda, I was thinking, we should really get to know each other better. For example, is there a girl you have your eye on? A special someone in your life?”

He snorted, “Morwen and I have been on the run from the law since we were teenagers, that’s no kind of life for romancing girls, no matter what the stories tell you.”

“And uh, what kind of girl would you want?” Albert said.

Brodda stroked his chin, “I never thought about it, but…” he grinned at Morwen, “well, my sister’s the only woman who doesn’t slap me when I talk to her, so she’d have to have a thick skin.”

“Like thick enough to deflect arrows and swords!” Cyrene said excitedly.

“Uh, as a metaphor, I suppose,” Brodda said, raising an eyebrow. “I guess I’d like her to be passionate too, a real spitfire-“

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Cyrene said, ignoring Albert’s attempts to silence her.

Brodda’s eyes narrowed, “Okay, what is really going on here?” He glanced at Morwen, but his sister just had an odd smile on her face.

“D-Do you remember how mother used to make me promise to find you a nice woman someday?” she said.

He glanced around the table, “I… if there’s a woman you want me to meet, why all this…” he waved his hand, “whatever this is?”

“Oh boy,” Meghan laughed, looking up at Albert, “I’m really looking forward to seeing how you spin this one.”

“What, is she ugly or something?” Brodda joked, “seriously, why are all of you suddenly so interested in my love life? Morwen, what’s going on?”

…

Albert sat in Cyrene’s hair, she was at her normal size now, so he was able to relax, letting the silky strands coil around him while he watched Meghan and Morwen work.

“I-Is this really necessary?” Brodda asked, watching the two women tie him to the large wooden stake.

“This is a traditional dragon courtship thing,” Meghan explained, “tie the princess-“ Brodda glared at her, “Prince,” Meghan corrected, “tie them up, and then the dragon comes and takes them away to their lair.”

The five of them had gathered on a grassy hill far outside the capital. Cyrene had delivered the message to Alexis about where she could find her “date,” and the group had decided to help the former bandit prepare for it.

“Morwen, are you sure about this?” he asked his sister, scanning the sky nervously.

“Look, you’re exactly her type, and I think you’re going to really like her,” Morwen replied. “Now hold still, while you’re tied up, I’m going to do something I’ve wanted to do a long time.” Brodda rolled his eyes as a comb appeared in his sister’s hand, gently fixing his hair and combing down a cowlick.

“And what if she doesn’t think I’m her type?” he asked, “what if I say something that I don’t even realize is offensive, then she starts blowing fire all over the place?”

“Er,” Morwen bit her lip, “Brodda, just try to relax and be yourself, you’re a popular man, people like you! She will too!”

“I know I’m popular,” he said with a chuckle, “I’m wanted in three countries.”

…

Brodda listened to the wind howl across the hilltops. The other four had left him alone, tied and trussed as an offering to the dragon.  There was a rush of wind, and his eyes went wide as he saw her descending from the clouds. Red scales glistened as the woman’s black hair streamed behind her in the wind, and in a graceful motion for a creature so large, she landed on the hillside. He stared up at her in awe as she knelt, then laid down on the grassy hillside, her immense face staring at him with a nervous smile.

“H-Hi,” she stuttered, “You must be Brodda?”

“That’s me,” he said, still stunned. “Are you Alexis?” it was a stupid question, how many giant dragonkin women could there be around here? Still, it seemed polite to ask, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, you look just like they said,” she squealed. “I uh… brought you some flowers.” Her massive hand came around to him, and pinched between a clawed thumb and forefinger was a small bouquet of daisies.

“Thanks,” he said, brow furrowing, “I’d take them but…”

She seemed to notice his predicament and she fought a giggle, “why are you tied up like that?”

He frowned, “The mage said this was how dragons liked to… meet people.”

“I think she spends too much time reading old stories,” Alexis laughed. She reached up, a claw extending as she tore through the ropes holding him in place. “I appreciate the thought though… Come along, I’ve prepared food and drink, and there’s a wonderful little theater troupe that probably hasn’t been able to get out of the country yet!”

With that she curled her hand around him, the rough scales hard against his skin even as her more human palm felt soft and inviting. She was beautiful, once you looked past the horns and tail… He smiled, maybe this would work out?

…

“I can’t believe you made them perform all three acts of the play on the side of the road!” Brodda laughed, sipping wine as he lounged on a pilfered couch in the dragon’s lair. “It reminds me of this one time, my sister and I, we stopped this big caravan, now we should have been on easy street, right?” He looked up at the draconic giantess, nodding eagerly and hanging on his every word, “but the whole thing was full of food and medicine, apparently there was an earthquake somewhere and they were going to help. Now obviously, even if we were the types, you can’t exactly sell that stuff, but you can’t get an image as being soft, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Alexis said, with a sigh, smoke trailing out of her nostrils, “I try not to hurt anyone when I’m out pillaging myself, but it’s like, if you just come around blowing smoke everywhere, eventually people start saying ‘oh there’s the dragon’ and just go about their day!”

“Ugh, you’re telling me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, “anyway my sister has this idea that we make them dance! So I says everyone out of the wagons, and we made them do barn dances for an hour, they were terrible at it, but we told them they were good enough to be spared.”

“You dance!?” Alexis asked eagerly, “show me!”

He sat up, only slightly unsteady from the wine, but with well practiced muscle memory from his youth he began a series of intricate footsteps he remembered well from before his life of crime. He spun on his heels, clapping in time as Alexis joined in, laughing and clapping her hands, the thunderous sound echoing through the cavern. Brodda kept going for a few minutes, until his foot caught on a stray stone on the floor, with a cry of surprise he tumbled over, but Alexis’s giant hand shot out, catching him before he could hit the floor.

“I guess it’s been too long,” he laughed as she gently placed him upright again.

“I loved it,” she said in a husky voice. “The hour grows late…”

“Yes,” he replied with a contented sigh, “I suppose it does… do you wish for me to leave?”

“Absolutely not!” Alexis said, her eyes flashing eagerly. She caught herself and cleared her throat, “That is to say… I mean, you could stay the night, if you wanted.” Her tail unconsciously moved behind him, almost coiling around him, but staying just a few feet away.

He gulped and looked up at her gigantic form. He took a breath and mentally slapped himself, he could do this, right? If that little man Albert could do this, he could do this! And Alexis was stunning, what man would shy away from this? He took one final gulp of his wine for courage, then tossed the empty vessel over his shoulder.

“Let’s do it!” he said excitedly, “how should we-“

“Let’s get you out of those clothes,” she said, leaning down to him.

He hissed in surprise as those sharp claws pinched at his clothing, tearing away his shirt with a loud ripping sound. Alexis fought the urge to drool as she saw his chiseled pecs and abs, coated with a light sheen of sweat from the volcano’s heat. She growled lustfully as the flat of her finger traced down his chest, lingering on his stomach as she dug her claw in ever so slightly, not enough to draw blood, but enough that he felt it.

Her finger reached his waist, and the claw ripped through his belt and trousers, easily shredding them and causing them to fall away. His erection sprang up to greet her, and she squealed with delight as her fingers pinned him, her hot breath washing over him as she leaned down for a better look.

“That’s a nice one,” she purred, those slitted eyes focusing on him, “very nice…”

“Uh, thanks,” Brodda said, unsure how to respond.

He started as her forked tongue traced down out of her mouth, long and serpentine, dripping with saliva as it traced up his body. She groaned happily as she tasted him, keeping him pinned with her fingers even as that long tongue snaked around his back, coiling around him like a serpent. He gasped in surprise as her fingers lifted away, leaving his arms free even as his torso was constricted. The tip of her tongue, seemingly satisfied that he was secure, managed to trace it’s way back around to his manhood, and he went tense against his slick and slimy bonds as she began to tease him. His arms shot down, and he tried to get a grip on the thick wet coil of her tongue as he was lifted off the ground.

“A-Alexis?” he asked fearfully. The tongue was slowly drawing him up towards her mouth, even as it teased him. He gulped and had a sudden flashback to his time in the giant harpy’s maw, but Alexis managed to give him a coy wink that calmed him somehow. He heard one final giggle as he was slurped past her lips, and he heard the soft *clack* of her teeth as her jaws sealed him in. Unlike the harpy’s mouth, Alexis’s wasn’t dark, there was a soft orange glow coming from the very back of her throat. It let him see the gleam of her massive teeth like prison bars around him, and the glistening of her tongue. It was almost like a flickering firelight, and he found it bizarrely comforting.

He found himself seizing with pleasure again as her tongue continued to play with him, even as the coils around his chest loosened somewhat. He thrashed as the giant tongue continued to explore him, going up and down his manhood in a slow steady rhythm which it only interrupted to taste the rest of him. Soon Alexis seemed to tire of the teasing, and that amazingly prehensile tongue coiled itself around his erection and began to pump up and down. He shouted against the roof of her mouth, helpless before her as she milked his seed out of him, her low growl reverberating around him as the brightness at the back of her throat seemed to intensify.

When he was well and fully spent, and the tongue could produce no more from him, he heard a soft giggle as she uncoiled him. The lips parted, and the same tongue that had lashed and ravaged him now easily pushed him out, soaked, into her waiting cupped hands. He landed easily in her soft palms, the scaled fingers arcing over him protectively while a very human smile greeted him.

“That was spectacular,” he wheezed, getting to his feet shakily. “I-I’ve never been with a woman who could do something like that!”

“Hmm… you have a wonderful taste,” she said with a smirk, smacking her lips playfully. “Was that a good way to start?”

“S-Start?” he stammered, looking up in awe at her gigantic body. He grinned, standing up in her hands, “If that’s the start, I can’t wait to see the finish!”

“All in due time,” Alexis chuckled. It would be a night to remember, that was to be sure.

…

Morwen had been worried about how her brother would fare with the dragon, he was a strong man, and she was sure that the two would get along fine… but still, she needed something to occupy her thoughts.

She’d have preferred swordplay, but the only other two people around the castle carrying blades had been Albert’s pair of bodyguards, neither man looked up to sparring with someone of her skill. So, with cotton plugs in her ears, she’d taken her rifle and powder horn out to the drilling yard beyond the castle walls.

She felt the kick of the rifle against her shoulder, satisfied as she saw a small hole in the faraway target. With a sigh she set the rifle down and reached for the powder horn to reload. She was rapidly becoming coated in the grit and grime of soldiering, mud caked her boots, and sweat was forming on her brow as she took aim again. There was a boom as she fired, and the wind picked up, coating her with the sulphury white smoke as she peered at her target.

In a nearby tree, concealed amidst the foliage and leaves, she had an audience. Cyrene the harpy, at her normal eight-foot height, sat on a branch peering at the practicing woman with her keen avian eyes. As usual Albert was nestled in the forest of her hair, and at her side the petite court mage balanced precariously on the high branch. With a smirk Cyrene reached around, steadying Meghan and pulling her to her side.

“She likes you, you know,” Cyrene said, her eyes darting up to the tiny king nestled in her hair. “I think she’d be a great candidate.”

“I’m still not sure about this nest-wives thing,” Albert said, “I mean… Meghan, what do you think?”

The court mage squealed, looking down in fear at the long drop to the ground below. In response Cyrene’s arm draped around her, the wing hanging down and shielding her from the wind with her feathers. She sighed, clinging to the harpy in turn as she tried to collect her thoughts. She was suddenly very away of the feeling of that ribbon flapping in the wind.

“I guess…” Meghan looked up at Cyrene, then her eyes drifted a little higher to Albert, “I mean, you guys have put up with a LOT from me, like, most people are chasing me out of their town with pitchforks by now… and you’re seriously asking if I want to share the throne of a kingdom?” she smiled and shrugged, “I guess I’m in, but you can’t kick me out of after this, no matter how many spells I mess up.”

“Sounds fair,” Albert laughed.

“Okay, so that’s one,” Cyrene muttered, releasing Meghan as she stood up.

“W-Where are you going?” Meghan asked, quickly hugging the tree trunk. “Can you get me down from here!?”

Albert shouted in surprise as Cyrene plucked him up out of her hair, “I’m just going to help things along, I’ll come right back!” she explained, grinning down at her tiny liege. The branch shook as she took off, causing Meghan to squeal in fright again.

…

With the cotton stuffed in her ears Morwen didn’t hear the ruffle of the approaching feathers, or even Cyrene’s cheerful greeting as she flew low overhead. She pulled the trigger on the rifle, the gun bucking in her hands and billowing smoke over her, smoke which meant she couldn’t see what it was that dropped suddenly into her shirt’s open top.

She blinked, placing the rifle down again. She reached up and pulled the wadded cotton out of her ears, letting it fall to the ground as she fumbled in her shirt, not sure what she expected to find. She paused, frowning as she felt a very human form gripping her searching hand.

“Albert?” She asked, pulling him out. He was coughing slightly, the smoke from her rifle shot must have hit him full in the face, and like her was now covered in soot and the sweat that had pooled on her breasts over the course of the late afternoon. “What are you doing out here?” she looked around, not seeing anyone, “where did you come from?”

“I flew,” he remarked, looking up at her with a smile. “I’m uh, sorry I fell in your-“

“Oh, no trouble at all,” she said with a smirk, “that’s probably the softest place you could have landed.” She glanced up at the sky, “the harpy seems to have abandoned you, would you like me to take you back to the castle?”

“I’d appreciate that, yes,” he said, scanning the clouds for Cyrene. The harpy had certainly made herself scarce all of a sudden…

“I shall ferry you home at once my liege,” she said with a teasing smile. His eyes went wide as her hand forced him back down into her cleavage, her fingertip forcing his head down until he was fully submerged in the pillowy prison of her sweaty bosom.

The familiar stale and salty taste filled his mouth and nose as he struggled in the dark confines of Morwen’s chest, her sweat enveloping him and making the soft flesh slick against him. He found himself almost… savoring it? He coughed as he squirmed again, causing the giantess overhead to giggle as she walked. He was suddenly very aware of how hard he was, even as his hair became mussed and slick with the grime Morwen was covered in after an afternoon on the drill yard.

This had to be more of the side effects of being small, he reasoned. Being tiny had definitely impacted his thought process, and it made him appreciative of things he was sure wouldn’t interest him at full size… that had to be it, had to be… He grunted in pleasure as Morwen began walking up a set of stairs, the jiggling motion of her breasts beginning to rub against him in a very pleasing way. He decided that if this was some sort of madness being brought on by being small, well, there was nothing to do but enjoy it.

…

“So Cyrene apparently wants us to…” He chuckled at the absurdity of it, not sure how to continue. He’d spent the last few minutes since they’d reached her quarters trying to explain exactly how he’d come to be in her shirt top.

“I think I understand,” Morwen said, sipping a cup of tea. It was an oddly sophisticated gesture for a woman who was covered in sweat and grime and had kicked her boots off, propping her feet up on the same table she’d set Albert on in her quarters. “It’s not crazy, a lot of kings and emperors do the multiple queens thing…” Her mouth quirked, “usually such arrangements are done to secure alliances, lands, titles… I’m afraid I don’t have anything like that.”

“Cyrene…” he shrugged, “I get the feeling that those aren’t things she was thinking about when she proposed it. Just forget the whole thing, I’ll try not to let her bother you about it again-“

“Now hold on,” Morwen said with a small smile over the teacup, “A girl getting her hands on a king isn’t the sort of thing she can just dismiss out of hand, even if there are a few other queens in the mix…” She sipped the tea, seeming to think it over, “on the one hand, a bit of stability in our lives would do both me and my brother some good… I think a royal consort could probably guarantee that, no?”

“After all you two have done?” he laughed, “you can have whatever you want, regardless of what happens between you and I, stay in the castle if you want, spend the kingdom’s gold on wine and music.”

“With our futures secured then,” Morwen mused, staring at the ceiling, “I guess the real question is how do I feel about you?” She smiled down at him, “I do enjoy your company, you seem clever for a royal… You’re cute, I’m guessing you were cute before you got tiny too… probably will be if you ever manage to get big again.”

“I-I will,” he said nervously, “I trust Meghan to-“

Morwen just snorted, “if you want, I can take off my shirt and you can trace your eyes over every reason why nobody should trust a wizard.”

“I do trust her,” he said defensively, “now, anyway…”

Morwen regarded him a moment, “I think you like being that size,” she said with a small grin, “I think that’s why you’re so calm about this whole thing.”

“W-What!?” he exclaimed, “no, it’s been a nightmare to-“

“A real nightmare, I’m sure,” Morwen laughed, “your pet harpy carrying you around and coddling you, tending to your every need, and that little runt of a wizard no doubt plays with you too!” Her bare feet inched closer to Albert, and the wafting ripe scent washed over him. They’d been in her boots all day, and each towered over him. “I couldn’t help but notice you were really excited when you were here earlier,” she traced a finger over her cleavage. “Odd, even when I’m filthy from spending all afternoon in the field… you seem to want to get closer.”

He gulped, not sure what she meant, “I uh-“ he was interrupted by a thud as Morwen uncrossed her legs, placing her feet on either side of him, almost menacingly hovering over him like a pair of sentinels. The smell washed over him, but he almost involuntarily found himself drawn to it, his head going hazy for a moment as the warm musk of Morwen’s feet overpowered his senses.

“What an interesting reaction,” Morwen said playfully. “Now, I am curious, if I were to tell you that in a few seconds, I’m going to press those feet together, would you move?” she grinned, “or would you let yourself get caught between my dirty feet?” She wiggled her toes for emphasis.

Albert stared at them, then sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to move, and a moment later when the slick walls of flesh crashed into him from either side, he heard Morwen laughing uproariously as she pinned him between her soles.

“I knew it!” she said, grinning widely.

She began rubbing her feet together, shifting his body and caking him with her sweat. He gasped as the pressure began rubbing against his erection, trapped within the pants of the doll’s outfit he’d put on earlier. There was a *clink* as she set the teacup down on a nearby saucer, focusing entirely on him as she watched, fascinated, as he struggled against her feet. She rolled them back and forth again, twisting and turning the tiny king’s body.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” she said in a low voice, leaning in, “you’re really an odd sort of man Alfred…” She frowned, watching his straining face as her feet continued to toy with him, “Are you going to-“

He grunted, spasming between her feet as he came in the doll sized trousers. Morwen’s eyes went wide, and she brought a hand to her forehead as she leaned back, laughing loudly again. She kept him pinned, still kneading him back and forth with her feet until he was spent. She parted her feet suddenly, letting him tumble limply to the floor. Lifting her feet off the table, she set them firmly on the floor as she loomed over him.

“Sorry about that,” she said, biting her lower lip, “I had a suspicion you liked it when a girl maybe… pushed you around a little, but I didn’t mean to make you-“

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, blinking as he forced himself to his feet. “That was… that was” he laughed, “I think you’ve got me figured out, maybe more than I do myself.” He glanced down at his clothes, now covered in her sweat and dirt, and with a notable wet spot on the crotch. “I wonder how many dolls are in that old storage room,” he muttered, “I’m running through clothing at an alarming pace..."

“Well strip those ones off,” Morwen chuckled, “and let me draw us a bath, we both need it… while we soak, we can discuss your harpy-queen’s proposal.”

He frowned, “you mean you-“

“I’m not saying yes,” she said with a smirk, “but… I’m not saying no either.”

…

In a town in the shadow of the volcano, a man stumbled down the street. He was covered head to toe in soot and ash, and his hair was blown back like he’d looked into a blast furnace. While he had a clean and pressed shirt on, it was backwards, and it gave the man air of madness as he whistled a happy tune.

He managed to get to the town’s blacksmith, leaning against the doorframe as the man inside paused his hammering.

“W-What can I do for you, stranger?” The blacksmith gulped, “are okay sir?”

“I’m fine,” Brodda rasped, grinning. Gods, he’d never been so thirsty… “Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” He looked over the shop, “I need to commission some jewelry, a necklace, earrings maybe…”

“That’s more a job for a jeweler,” the smith said uncomfortably.

“No, trust me, a job this size needs a proper smith,” Brodda laughed. His eyes were drawn to a circular shield hanging on the wall, “Dragonslayer” written across it in a fine golden script while brassy dragon motifs swirled below. “Also give me that,” he said, “and scratch off the s.”