Albert watched from his place on the table while Meghan mixed the potions, humming happily to herself. As when she’d first made the potion that had shrank him and made Cyrene into an unstoppable colossus, the flasks and flames danced to her whims as she twirled her fingers in time.

The two of them were alone in Meghan’s lab, the petite mage having finally come up with a solution to his small size… or at least that’s what she’d told him. Albert was, at this point, fairly certain of her loyalties, though he still wondered about her ability.

“I’ve been reading a lot,” Meghan said, closing a book and setting it on the table, “I think that an antidote potion is the wrong move.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t get the chance to brew one then,” Albert said, “what would THAT have done to me?”

“Diarrhea maybe?” Meghan said with a shrug, “not every magic potion backfires in a spectacular way, sometimes you just get a little sick.” She moved around the table, grabbing one of Cyrene’s shed feathers. Albert couldn’t help but notice that it was almost as long as Meghan’s arm, likely coming off the harpy when she was enlarged. “Look at this,” she explained, “I soaked this down in an antidote potion, nothing. I think that the dark lord’s strength potion might be… permanent.”

He gulped, considering the implications. Being small had certainly given him a new perspective, and he doubted he’d have had the success he enjoyed now at his old size. Morwen had definitely been right, he did enjoy being overpowered and played with too, and part of him had almost wanted to stay this size, but… permanent?

Meghan was quiet a minute, seeing his expression, “I’ve got another solution,” she said quietly. “Or, I think I do anyway…” She sighed, “It could backfire and fry you though… I’m going to try it on someone else first.”

“Who?” he asked, “we don’t WANT Cyrene cured, and there’s no one else-“

“Me,” Meghan said, holding a flask of the purple strength potion. “I’m going to take the same potion that shrank you, then I’ll try my fix out, that way we’ll know it’s safe.”

His eyes went wide, “Meghan!” he exclaimed, “you don’t have to do that, just let me try it-“

“Nope,” She said with a sigh, “I…” she chuckled, “wow, I don’t know what to say Al, after all the stuff I put you through, you’re wanting to take this arrow for me.”

“I’m sure it will work fine,” Albert insisted, “or, if you’re worried… we can just put it off, wait until you understand things better!” He gave a forced smile, “I’m fine being small a little longer, or however long it takes.”

“You know people fear me back home,” Meghan said, eyeing the potion, almost in a trance, “Not like they fear someone who’s powerful, more like how you fear a tornado or a flood, like ‘oh, here comes Meghan’ then they take shelter or call the guard or whatever…” She looked down at him and shrugged, “I’ve been as much of a disaster for you guys as anyone else, but you’re not chasing me out… It just doesn’t seem right to make you the subject of another experiment.”

“Meghan-“ he started, but she was already drinking the potion down.

“Wow,” She muttered, clutching her head as her robes got looser, “w-was it so disorienting for you?” She looked at him, almost pleadingly, “Al?” her robes billowed around her, causing her to vanish as the blue fabric fell to the floor. He watched as a small lump moved in the pooled wizard’s attire on the floor, and he sighed, wishing she’d talked this over with him first.

“O-Okay,” the court mage muttered as she crawled, naked, out of her own sleeve, “We know it works the same every time, that’s something I guess…” Meghan looked around the room wide eyed, her mouth going dry, “this is a lot more intimidating than I expected,” she said weakly.

“You’re lucky!” he shouted down, “you don’t have a treasonous court mage playing games with you right after you shrank!”

“I said I’m sorry for the treason!” she snapped, “I’m super loyal now!”

“I know,” he said, fighting a smile as he rolled his eyes, “but you’re also down on the floor. Which one of these vials is your proposed antidote?”

Meghan hugged the oversized hem of her robe against herself, protecting long gone modesty as her face went red. With one final look at him she released it, letting the collar of her blue robe fall and revealing her petite and naked form. With a blush, and a smile, she walked to a table on the far side of the room.

“It’s uh… it’s up there,” she said with a smile. “Do you think you could get to it?”

“I’m not even sure I can get down from here!” he shouted, “why didn’t you put it on the floor!?”

Meghan’s face went red, “I… I didn’t think this far ahead, okay?” Albert rolled his eyes and she scowled, “Hey! I’m not the king!” she protested, “you should have asked these questions before I shrank myself!”

“Fine,” he said, “whatever, so what do we do now?”

There was a sudden knock on the door. Both of them looked to it suddenly, then began shouting for help. The doorknob turned, and they saw Morwen’s curious face in the crack, peering in before opening the door fully.

“Albert?” she called, stepping into the room. There was a squishing sound as her boots made contact with the stone floor, the mud leaving a track.

Albert sighed, “Morwen!” he called, “Take those off when you come back from drilling!”

She noticed him, “Albert!” she said happily, “Cyrene told me the mage had taken you down here, no doubt for some horrifying experiment.” She glanced down, seeing her muddy boots. With a grimace she glanced backwards, seeing the trail of footprints she’d left. “Sorry,” she muttered as she lifted her feet out of her boots, revealing sweat stained footwraps.

Meghan walked towards the other woman without thinking. Waving her hands, she realized a moment later that Morwen didn’t see her, and terror enveloped her as the stale sweaty odor of a pair of giant feet washed over her. She screamed, a small squeaking sound, as the white fabric coating Morwen’s foot overcame her.

“Morwen,” Albert began, “Meghan was just-“ he was cut off by a squeal then a crunching noise as the former bandit stepped forward. He looked down in horror at Morwen’s feet, then up at her face. “LIFT YOUR FOOT AT ONCE!” he shouted, proud of how his voice carried.

…

“Knowledge,” Meghan said dizzily, laying recovering on her own alchemy table, “we’ve gained knowledge…” She forced herself to glance up at Morwen and grinned, “N-Now we know that if you’ve had the potion, you’re much more durable!” She gulped, “even if you get squished by a sweaty foot…”

“I don’t know,” Morwen said with a twisted grin, “maybe we should try it again?”

“It could be good for data,” Meghan said, sitting up. Morwen just frowned at the response, “Perhaps next time you would wear a boot or other-“

“Albert,” Morwen said, turning away from her to the other small human on the table, “Why is the mage small?”

“She had a proposed solution to my own size issues,” he explained, “and she wanted to try it first, so… she did this to herself.”

“I do like it so far,” Morwen said, leering down at the tiny Meghan, who gulped nervously. “So wizard, where is your fix for this?”

“O-Over there,” Meghan said, pointing to the far table. “The bracelet.” Morwen picked up a simple gold band with a clasp, eyeing it curiously. “It’s an enchantment disrupter,” Meghan explained, “they use them over in the Empire if they’re arresting a mage for something.” She grinned, “they don’t work too well on me, I’m too strong for them I think.”

“And how did you get this one?” Morwen asked with a frown.

“I got arrested,” Meghan said without a pause, “I would think someone with your background would understand. Here, lower it down.”

Morwen placed the gold bracelet down to Meghan, who eagerly touched it. There was a brief spark, then she was stretching, growing, crowing with triumph as her full sized and naked form sat on the table, her legs dangling over the side happily.

“It worked!” she said, “Look Al!” she said, pointing to it, “just touch one of these, and you’re full size again! It was so simple!” sparks danced along her fingers, “looks like I can still cast with this thing on, that’s good…” she muttered.

Albert looked at it, intrigued. Wearing a bracelet to be full size… yes, he could do that, and another part of him was excited at the prospect of being small whenever he wanted as well. He returned Meghan’s eager gaze until Morwen coughed.

“So where’s Albert’s?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Right here,” Meghan said obliviously, pointing to the bracelet.

“Okay,” Morwen said, sighing and rubbing her temples, “Meghan, we now have TWO people that need those, do you have another one?”

“Oh gods no,” Meghan laughed, “I only have this one because I got… detained. They’re actually pretty hard to come by.”

“Lovely,” Morwen chuckled. She clasped Meghan’s hand, causing the smaller woman to squeal in surprise, “Sorry, but I think the king takes priority, you’re going to be a very tiny wizard-“

“We can switch off,” Albert said, “but…” he smiled up at Morwen, “I would like to try at least ONE court meeting at full size.”

…

Cyrene’s fingers ran through his hair, scratching his head slightly. He’d hoped for a more dignified appearance in his court, and people had certainly been surprised to see him at his normal stature, and Meghan at her new shrunken size, but now, seated on Cyrene’s lap he didn’t have the regal and kingly demeanor he’d hoped. Still, she seemed happy with how things had turned out.

“Look at her!” Cyrene giggled, balancing a trembling Meghan on her hands, “she’s so cute!”

“B-Be careful!” Meghan whimpered, “come on, you don’t do this stuff with Al when he’s tiny!”

“No comment,” the king said in an amused tone.

The mage was dressed in the puffy pink ballroom style doll’s dress. Cyrene didn’t seem to understand human fashion very well, and had been trying to get Albert to wear it for days now. Seeing Meghan in it, looking very much like a delicate princess in spite of her short haircut, seemed to delight the harpy.

“I’ll just put you somewhere safe,” Cyrene giggled, lifting Meghan up to Albert’s usual place among her fiery red hair.

“So then,” Albert began with a smile, “tell me about our strategy to defeat the Lich.”

“Your majesty,” Sines said with an excited grin, “he’s already been defeated!”

Albert frowned, “I beg your pardon?”

“A brave warrior named Lady Alarica used a mix of magic and swordplay to storm his fortress, where she slew him in personal combat! The nobles are already gathering around her and heeding her orders. She marches to the castle with her followers, and she’s declared she will have your hand in marriage!”

Albert blinked, trying to take it all in, “the same nobles who have ignored all of my requests for men, who refuse to even meet with me? They’re flocking to this woman?”

“It would appear so, your grace,” Sines said, a frown coming over his features, “it is… rather odd.”

“I will not have my hand in marriage demanded,” he barked angrily, “not after all I’ve been through, and besides, Cyrene is going to be my queen.” He jerked a thumb back at the harpy.

“The nobles will not care to hear that you’ve spurned their choice for a monster,” Sines said hesitantly.

“Hey, I’ll gladly fight anyone who thinks they can lay a hand on my husband without permission,” Cyrene said angrily. “I’ve already picked him out some nest-wives, and we’re full!”

“Er… nest-wives?” Sines said with a frown, “my liege, crown law does demand a human queen.”

“Does this kingdom allow the king to have multiple wives?” Albert asked in a tired voice.

“I suppose,” Sines said, brow furrowing, “that is to say, legally speaking it’s allowed, but a king hasn’t had more than one in-“

“Great, Cyrene, do you care if I shuffle the marriage order around a bit and marry Meghan first?”

“I guess not,” the harpy said with a frown, “I mean… why not just marry all three of us at once?”

“Three?” Brodda asked with a chuckle, “who else have you roped into this-“

“I’ll wear a dress for the ceremony,” Morwen called from behind her brother, “but you won’t get me into those high heeled monstrosities the fine ladies wear, boots for me.”

Brodda’s eyes went wide, “Morwen, are you sure you want to-“

“I think so,” She said with a wink at Albert, “I think we’ve got a good thing going here, and I want to ride it straight to the top.” She slugged her brother in the arm playfully, “besides, you can demand another estate from him now, you’ll need it right? I hear you’ve got a very big mouth to feed.”

“Yes, true,” Brodd murmured, “I’m supposed to meet her in a field later actually…”

“And there you have it Sines, a human queen on the throne,” Albert said tersely. “Now then, am I fully within all of my legal rights to tell this woman to go to hell?”

“I’m pretty sure we can beat her if she wants to fight about it,” Brodda said, “we’ve got guns, a mage, a giant harpy, and a dragon. I daresay the Lich is lucky they got to him first.”

“Well then,” Albert said, looking over his advisors, “tell her I respectfully decline her offer, and that if she wishes we can discuss some manner of monetary reward.” He sighed happily, “Now, since the kingdom is saved, I think I’ll spend the rest of the day relaxing.”

…

“So I just snap this off,” Cyrene asked, holding Albert up by one arm and eyeing the bracelet, “and you’re teeny tiny again?”

Cyrene hadn’t wasted any time after his comment about “relaxing,” and the eight-foot harpy had practically frog marched him back up to the bedroom, eagerly lifting him and the doll-sized Meghan up into her nest to “celebrate” their victory.

The harpy had a mischievious grin, and Albert just rolled his eyes and chuckled as that taloned hand reached for the bracelet, popping it off with a click. The world spun as he seemed to compress inwards, his body tumbling through the air as he returned to the tiny form he realized was his new normal.

“I’ll just put this over here for safekeeping,” Cyrene said, leaving the bracelet on the nest’s edge, “I do like it, it’s nice and shiny…” She giggled as she leaned over them, “Albert, go take Meghan’s dress off.”

He gingerly walked towards Meghan, who looked very silly in the doll’s dress. Slowly he pulled it down over her shoulders, causing the petite girl to shiver slightly at his touch. She was looking over him, blushing, while she’d certainly seen, and played with, his naked body before, she’d always been a relative giant when she’d done so.

Cyrene bit her lip, “I’ve got an idea… you two start.” She gestured enthusiastically, and with a shrug and quick grin at Meghan, the two of them lay down. He held Meghan in his arms as she looked up at him in wonder, and then at the giant harpy behind him.

“Oh gods,” she squeaked, “I really didn’t think this through…” she gulped and looked back to him, “I-I’m going to be tiny with you, forever…”

“When we’re not wearing those bracelets,” he said softly, “but it’s not so bad… are you ready?”

Her face went red and she giggled, “yeah…”

He entered her, causing both of them to gasp as he began a slow series of thrusts. It almost felt odd to be making love to a woman like this, after being their toy for so long, and he moaned into Meghan’s hair as he picked up speed and her hips bucked against his.

Cyrene’s tongue came up his back suddenly, startling him and coating his naked body in her saliva. He tried not to let it impact his rhythm, but the giant harpy’s giggle was beginning to distract him. Meghan’s eyes were wide as she looked over his shoulder, and she realized that a taloned hand was scooping the pair up before he did.

“Just pretend I’m not even here!” she said, her massive face leaning in close to examine them. In spite of her instruction Albert couldn’t stop himself from peering over the edge of her hand to her. Cyrene scowled, “seriously, focus on her Albert! I’ll be ready for both of you in a minute!” His eyes tranced down her torso to where her other hand was fingering herself slowly. He gulped as he tried to imagine what she had in store “in a minute.”

“Hey!” Meghan said, her arms wrapping around him, “you heard her! Keep going!”

Cyrene watched lustfully as her pair of human toys continued to mate on her hand. She giggled, enjoying the thought of making the tiny couple perform this dance for her pleasure… yes, humans had their plays, their operas, but Cyrene was already imagining a new entertainment, one that would be performed exclusively for her…

She lifted her free hand to her face, seeing it glisten with her juices. She crowed excitedly, knowing she was finally wet enough for what she wanted to do. She began lowering the pair, even as Albert thrust into a moaning Meghan, who was scratching his back eagerly. The king noticed the movement, and looked at her again.

“Hey!” Cyrene called, “come on, eyes on her! Don’t worry about what I’m doing!”

Albert obeyed again, focusing on Meghan as he pulled the woman closer to him. Suddenly they were inverted, gripped by Cyrene’s hand and forced up into her waiting pussy. Albert cried out in shock as the wet ring of muscle lowered over his head, shoulders, arms, and with him Meghan’s. With a slick popping sound, they were both easily forced inside the giant harpy, and the undulating muscle around them easily held the two lovers in place.

“Come on!” Meghan whined into his shoulder, “I’m almost there!”

With a mental shrug he kept going, the movements of their bodies now stimulating the walls of the enormous womanhood that had devoured them whole mid-coitus. Cyrene toyed with her clit, sighing happily as her humans stimulated her, even as they mated with each other.

All three of them were close, and as Cyrene’s walls squeezed them close together, Meghan came first, a high mewling scream that a cackling Cyrene could hear even from outside. Albert was next, and then finally Cyrene herself, that final forceful push of her walls smashing the tiny lovers together and causing both of them to go weak with pleasure as their sensitive post-orgasm bodies collided once more.

Cyrene’s hand drifted down, not to retrieve the pair, but to hold her hand over her opening, keeping the two trapped in her for just a little longer. She sighed and leaned back in the nest, folding her other arm behind her head and causing her red feathers to fan around her. Having one tiny human to play with had been fun… having two? Cyrene fought a laugh, life was good.

…

“He said NO?” Alarica hissed, looking around the campaign tent at the assembled nobles.

“His majesty has cordially invited you to discuss an… alternative reward,” a fat man with a moustache explained weakly. “He claims he’s already betrothed to two women… and a harpy evidently.” He stroked his facial hair a moment, “We’re not sure if it’s a joke or-“

“Then I’ll simply force him when we arrive,” Alarica said angrily. She peered over the men, who seemed to shrink away from her. She was an imposing figure, with raven hair and ice blue eyes, strong arms, and a sword half as thick as her torso slung over her back. From the blue fire that unconsciously danced at her fingertips, the men could tell the blade wasn’t the most dangerous thing about her. She scowled and threw back her black fur cloak, “Gather the men, he was left with but two soldiers, was he not? It should be a trivial matter to-“

“The king has restored the royal army,” another noble said uncertainly. “And he’s acquired the services of a powerful mage, and some manner of gigantic beastfolk.”

“How?” she asked angrily, “he had no gold!”

“He’s richer than all of us now,” one man muttered, “his tax collectors saw to that!”

“Tax collectors?” Alarica shrieked. “He has not even been on the throne a month! You assured me that after the old king was dealt with, that you would cripple the crown, leave it simply waiting for me!” She glared at them, “who is behind this? His chancellor?”

“Sines?” one of the nobles laughed, “we left that old bastard there to hobble him! He’s not even in on our plan, but we figured he’d do more than enough damage-“

“Gentlemen,” the spellsword said in a husky tone, “When we all entered into this pact, we all had certain… expectations of one another.” She gave a sickly-sweet smile, “I believe my end of our arrangement was upheld, I defeated your lich, I killed your tyrannical king, and I even managed to get a few orders sent that got the old royal army scattered against a paltry gang of bandits.” She gave an exaggerated sigh, “now in exchange for these favors, you were supposed to provide me with a cute little king to marry, a boytoy to play with while I saved the throne from the calamity.” She rolled her eyes angrily, “all you really had to do was keep the realm unstable until I was ready to seize it.”

“W-We tried!” a man in a fine red coat insisted, “we made sure nobody marshaled armies against the bandits, we refused the king’s calls for aid, we left him with nothing but a pair of babysitters and a corrupt old fool!”

She reached out and gripped the man’s jaw, and the rest watched in horror as his mouth opened in a silent scream. His flesh seemed to warp and rot, melting away until nothing but a dusty skeleton in the man’s robes remained. She released the vertebrae, causing the bones to fall to the tent’s floor with a clattering sound.

The nobles looked on in horror backing away as Alarica scanned the crowd, “I can’t be the greatest queen in history if some brat already saved the kingdom!” she shouted, cowing them. She sighed, forcing herself to be calm as the fire dancing around her fingers subsided. “I WILL be his queen,” she growled, “and I will not be sharing him or my throne!”

“W-What do you suggest we do?” whimpered the fat man again.

“He may have blundered his way into a position of strength, but he’s still just a miller’s boy in over his head,” She snapped, “alone he is nothing, but at the same time you fools have let him become the key to everything… I will simply have to pull some of this lion’s teeth.” She smiled, “continue marching for the castle.”

…

Albert watched from the ramparts as Alarica’s supporters paraded below. The knights in their regalia certainly looked impressive, a far cry from his own often dirty troops in their brown uniforms.

“Don’t be intimidated by that,” Brodda said quietly behind him, “I could have a line of our boys form up and they’d blow that entire cavalry column to kingdom come.”

“I don’t want to fight them,” he murmured.

“I don’t either,” Brodda said, patting him on the back and smiling, “but if they start pushing, remember that you’re the bigger man.”

“I’ve always been uncommonly short,” Albert muttered, looking at the gold bracelet Meghan was letting him use.

Brodda rolled his eyes, “metaphor Albert, metaphor…” he scowled as he saw the nobles riding in the back, “and truth be told, you’ve done more for this kingdom in a month than that lot has in their whole lives.”

…

“Lady Alarica,” he greeted from his throne. “I’m pleased to hear of your victory over the dread lich Ponteferus, however, as I explained in my letter, I cannot accept your marriage proposal.”

The black cloaked woman smiled and bowed, “Of course, I understand your majesty, though perhaps I may stay for your marriage ceremonies? I’ve brought much plunder from the lich’s fortress, as a gift for you…”

Several men dragged chests forward, enormous things half the size of carriages. Albert wasn’t a greedy king, but his eyes went wide as he looked at the long line of them. One was opened, allowing him to gaze at the gold and jewels inside. His mouth went dry thinking of the projects that wealth could finance, his coffers were full to be sure, but with that money… he had a sudden image of aqueducts, every village with an aqueduct...

“With your permission, my men will bring the rest of the treasure inside the walls,” Alarica said, her steely blue eyes gleaming.

“Of course,” Albert said, waving the men in.

…

“I don’t like her,” Morwen said, leaning against the wall.

“She’s definitely a high-class magic user,” Meghan pondered, her finger tracing the gold bracelet, “like, she’s just radiating energy.”

“I’m sure that after you three are crowned tomorrow she’ll be on her way,” Albert said dismissively. “She probably hoped to get an easy in to being a queen, and now that it’s closed, she’ll go do something else. A woman like that is probably already getting high bounty monster slaying offers.” He stretched, letting Cyrene’s hair coil around him as he reclined on her head. “We’ve won, we can let our guard down just a little.” He grinned, “what do you three want to do tonight?”

“There are some really shiny fish that only come out at night in the castle moat,” Cyrene said eagerly, “I’m going to catch one!”

Albert blinked, “I uh… well, all right.”

“I’m going to go check and see if the Krotonomicon was with the plunder,” Meghan said, “seriously guys, it has a spell for walking skeletons! Imagine skeleton butlers for the whole castle!”

“Oh, my poor liege,” Morwen said with a mocking smile, “I’ll keep you company tonight.” She reached up and pulled him out of the harpy’s tangled hair.

…

Alarica strolled through the castle like the fox in the hen house. The king would certainly be getting married tomorrow, that was for certain, but not to those three trollops. No, she’d liked the look of him, and the matter with his shrinking… well, when she had him, he’d spend little if any time at his normal size. No, he’d squirm in her boots, perhaps fight feebly in her cleavage… The idea had excited her, how had she never thought of it before? Shrinking a man… She’d have to find out more about what potion the little whelp of a mage had used.

The object of her thoughts was pawing through the material she’d brought with her from the Lich’s fortress, and with a grin Alarica sized the younger mage up. Meghan was strong, and Alarica fought down a bit of surprise as her ethereal feelers brushed over the oblivious spellcaster. This girl had the potential to be an archmage, it was no wonder she’d been able to brew potions that, for most wizards, simply bubbled impotently…

A power source, Alarica decided, Meghan the mage would make a fine power source once that rotten lump between her ears was scooped out. For now though, she just needed the little wizard gone…

“Impressive haul, isn’t it?” Alarica said with a friendly smile. “I just wish I’d gotten the Krotonomicon…”

“Wait,” Meghan said suddenly, “i-it’s not here?”

“No,” Alarica said with a sigh, “It was protected by a spell I didn’t understand, so I left it back at the lich’s fortress.”

“Really!?” Meghan said, practically bouncing, “c-could it still be there?”

“Almost certainly,” Alarica said, “someone of your strength could probably break the spell seal though and-“

“I’m going to go get it now!” Meghan said, scurrying out of the room.

Alarica chuckled and rolled her eyes. The lich’s fortress would take the fool of a mage a good week to reach, the absent-minded girl wouldn’t even realize she’d been tricked until she got there and found nothing.

…

Cyrene stood on the castle rampart, her avian eyes following the sliver flashes in the moonlight. She cut an impressive figure, the giant harpy silhouetted on the top of the castle, and she stretched her wings in anticipation of a dive.

“I’m going to catch you tasty fishy,” she said aloud, “then everyone’s going to have a nice fresh breakfast…”

“Oh, there you are,” Alarica called.

Cyrene turned to see Albert, hand in hand with the spellsword.

“Oh,” Cyrene said uncomfortably, hopping off the rampart, “hi Alarica, what are you and Albert doing-“

“I’ve decided I don’t want you here,” Albert said, waving dismissively.

Cyrene blinked, and she hugged her feathered wings close, “W-What?” she whispered.

“You helped me out, that much is true,” Albert said, “but… well, you’re a monster Cyrene, and after some discussion with Lady Alarica here, I’ve decided that I need a proper queen.”

“B-But,” Cyrene stuttered, tears in the corner of her eyes.

“Out,” Albert said with another wave, “shoo, begone monster!”

Stunned, Cyrene spread her wings and took off, flying silently into the night sky as she fought to keep herself from crying.

“Beastfolk are so easily manipulated,” Alarica muttered, the fake Albert at her side vanishing as the illusion wore off.

…

Cyrene didn’t make it far before she noticed Meghan, running along the cobbled road far below. With a frown she swooped down, wondering if the mage had been expelled too. Meghan was practically skipping, so Cyrene didn’t think she’d been kicked out of the castle… She landed alongside her friend.

“Cyrene!” Meghan said excitedly, eyes wide, “oh this is perfect, you can fly me there in a few hours!”

“Huh?” Cyrene asked, still confused.

“The lich’s old fortress,” Meghan said, exasperated, “come on, just fly me there Cyrene, turn big and…” she gulped, “I mean… I guess flying’s the best way to get there, so just do it!”

“Uh, okay,” Cyrene said curiously. Lightning crackled along her wings as she started to grow.

…

Albert sighed, leaning back and relaxing in the steaming teacup as though it were a warm bath. Morwen’s giant face loomed over him, a smug grin on her face as she gently plopped a sugar cube in with him.

“Normally I don’t have this stuff in my tea,” she said, swirling it around him, “too expensive… I can see why the nobility likes it though, sweet tea…” she chuckled, “I’ll go soft from all of this luxury.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Alfred said, pushing back against her spoon as she stirred the tea. He frowned, looking around at the tea set, “this stuff all looks very nice…”

“This castle is full of things nobody uses,” Morwen said, “and since I’m going to be one of your queens, I decided it’s as good as mine.”

“Once a bandit…” he teased.

She reached down and plucked him out of the teacup, the warm liquid running down his body as he shivered from the sudden cold. He kicked in the air as she dangled him by one arm, slowly lowering him into her waiting mouth.

“Mmm…” she moaned, sucking the sweet tea off him as he grunted in pleasure. Her tongue had snaked up between his legs and was toying with him, licking at his erection and causing him to spasm as her lips locked around his torso.

Her lips parted and released him, “I want to play a game,” she giggled, “an evil game…”

“Uhh…” he looked at her playful expression and felt his lust rising, “O-Okay, I’m in.”

Morwen reached under the table and came up with an hourglass, a moment later she slammed her boot on the table. Albert grimaced as he looked at it, mud was still caked on the bottom, and the strong odor of her feet wafted from the opening. She bit her lip, fighting down a laugh at his reaction.

“I’m going to turn this hourglass over,” she explained, “and if I can make you finish before it’s done… then I’m going to put you in that boot,” she pointed to it, standing stiffly over him like a foreboding hangman’s tree, “and I’m going to take a walk around the castle!”

“Oh gods,” he muttered, his eyes going wide.

“If you can hold out though,” Morwen mused, “we stay here, and I’ll be a loyal subject, and do whatever you order for the rest of the night.” She smiled at him, enjoying his expression as his eyes wandered back and forth from her face to her boot. “If the thought intrigues so much,” she said in a low voice, “you can always ask for the boot ride if you win too…”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, blood rushed to his groin at the thought, and he had to blink and steady himself. This was side effects of the potion, he reminded himself, it HAD to be… Why else would the idea of being shoved in Morwen’s filthy boots, with her sweaty toes curling above and teasing-

“Are you ready?” Morwen asked, interrupting his thoughts. Without waiting for him to answer, she flipped the hourglass over.

Her hand came for him first, easily knocking him down onto the wooden table. He was still slick with her saliva, and as her fingers began pumping him, they slid easily over his shaft, the tiny motions of her fingers making him realize instantly that he had no chance.

“Wow,” Morwen chuckled, watching him spasm, “looks like my toes are getting some company.” She mockingly put a hand over her mouth, “does the idea… excite his majesty?”

“M-Maybe,” he admitted with a grunt.

“There’s no maybe about it,” she laughed, glancing at the hourglass, “you’re going to be my little toy for the evening…” a smile crossed her features, “forever, actually… I mean think about it, you’re foolishly giving me a crown, any time I get grimy drilling the soldiers, or go hunting, or even just take a nice summer ride, I’ll have a little king to come back and play with.”

“Oh gods,” he moaned as she picked up speed.

“Maybe now and then I’ll let you use Meghan’s bracelet to serve your bandit-queen at your full size,” she mused, “you could put those fingers to work rubbing my feet, then when you’re done, off it comes and then it’s a game of cat and mouse that you’ll always lose…” she raised an eyebrow as he cried out, his cum starting to coat her fingers as she finished bringing him off, “one that I don’t think you even want to win,” she said with a grin.

…

Brodda took a moment to look in the mirror, combing his hair one last time. With a sigh and a smile he got up, eager for his late night rendezvous with Alexis. He’d be back before morning, he was sure, and it wasn’t like he needed to be particularly well rested for Albert’s wedding. He opened the door to his room, and cried out in shock as a dozen men with swords stormed in, grabbing his arms and gagging him even as he swung his fists and tried to escape.

…

Cyrene lowered herself down over the barren and blasted “deadlands” in the southern part of the kingdom. She didn’t know much about them, but Meghan was ranting about “stray necromantic energies,” even as Cyrene returned the mage to the ground and shrank back down to her normal size.

“So pretty much this place has always been a hot spot for people looking to use darker magics,” Meghan said, staring up at an imposing looking castle. “We’re probably the only living people around for miles.” She grinned, waving Cyrene to follow her, “come on! We’ve got to find that spellbook.”

Cyrene stalked behind her, her eyes darting about for threats. The whole place was oddly still, and the only sound besides their footsteps on the large stone staircase to the castle was a mournfully howling wind. Meghan pushed the castle’s large wooden door open with a grunt, struggling against it’s weight.

“So he’d probably keep in the central keep-“ Meghan began.

“WHAT MORTAL FOOL DARES DISTURB PONTEFORUS,” a sinister and gravelly voice called.

Meghan and Cyrene gasped as a pair of blue flames appeared in the darkness, gazing out from a white corpselike face, grinning evilly.

“It’s the Lich!” Meghan screamed in fear, “he’s still alive!”

Cyrene shouted a battle cry, taking off and flying through the air. Her talons swiped out, carving into the figure with a deep raking attack that would have gored a man. The lich made a sound similar to a scream, and then collapsed into a pile of bones and cloth.

Meghan blinked, “wow, that guy did not live up to the hype.”

Cyrene fluttered back down to the ground, a few red feathers falling around her. Meghan poked at the lich’s robes with her boot, frowning.

“There’s an enchantment on this stuff,” she muttered. “Wait here.”

Meghan sprinted back to the door, closing it and entering again.

“WHAT MORTAL FOOL DARES DISTURB PONTEFORUS,” the voice echoed again, and as if on puppet strings the corpse lifted again, the blue fires in it’s eye sockets bursting to life.

“He’s fake,” Meghan said, walking back to Cyrene and examining the illusion. “Someone had him rigged up to act all scary whenever anyone opened that door.”

“So where’s the real Ponteforus?” Cyrene asked.

“Gods only know,” Meghan muttered, her finger running along the skeleton’s robe. She froze, “I know this magic.” She looked up at Cyrene in shock, “really powerful mages leave a kind of… essence on anything they do, sometimes we can tell when one of us has been somewhere days, weeks, after we left… this thing, this is Alarica’s!”

“Why would she want to make a fake lich?” Cyrene asked.

“Because she wanted everyone to think she killed a terrifying monster,” Meghan said, rubbing her chin, “I don’t know if there ever WAS a lich, look around, do you see any zombies or skeletons? This place is empty!” She scowled, “we’ve got to tell Al, she doesn’t deserve a damn penny for clearing this place out!”

“I don’t know if I’m going back,” Cyrene said softly, “Albert… he said he doesn’t want me around anymore.”

Meghan’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What? That’s ridiculous, Al loves you! He’d throw away the whole kingdom if it meant he couldn’t be with you!”

“That’s not what he said,” she muttered quietly.

“Wait a minute,” Meghan muttered, looking at the brass bracelet that was allowing her to be full size, “Cyrene, was Al big, or was he tiny?”

“He was his normal human size,” Cyrene said, “why?”

“How could he be normal size if I have the bracelet?” Meghan asked, pointing to it.

Cyrene’s eyes went wide as the realization dawned on her, “Alarica,” she snarled, energy crackling along her wings as she started to grow.

“Uh, hey, be careful about doing that in here!” Meghan said as the harpy’s head touched the stone ceiling. There was a crashing noise, and debris fell around her as the stone gave way before the furious harpy. The starlit sky was revealed as the structure gave way, and Cyrene spread her wings like an angel of vengeance as she screamed angrily. “Oh boy,” Meghan muttered as the harpy reached down to pick her up, “someone’s in trouble…”

…

“Ready for your punishment?” Morwen asked smugly.

Albert was resting on her heaving chest as she lay in the bed. She hadn’t put him in her boot yet, opting instead to give him a few moments to recover.

“Are you going to at least scrub me down afterwards?” he asked with a smile, “I can’t go to the ceremony tomorrow smelling like your rank feet.”

“If the king goes to an event smelling like feet, soon everyone will do it,” Morwen teased, “but… yes, you’ll get a bath, I’m looking forward to it.”

Their conversation was cut off as the door to the room creaked open. Alarica stood there in the doorway, her massive sword over her shoulder and a triumphant grin on her face.

“I’m afraid the king’s wedding has been moved up to tonight,” she said, walking into the room.

Morwen frowned as she sat up, placing Albert on the bed behind her, “I don’t know who you think you are,” Morwen snarled, “but-“

She was cut off as the other woman’s hand shot out, gripping her throat. Alarica laughed menacingly as she began the life drain spell, preparing herself for the savory sweet feeling of the woman’s energies flowing into her. She frowned, only a few sparks dancing up her arm, that wasn’t right!

Morwen’s fist came around and caught her square in the jaw, causing Alarica to drop her and stumble backwards in shock. Her eyes went wide as Morwen howled with fury, a sword appearing in her hand. Before Alarica could respond, Morwen drove it through her stomach, driving back and pinning her against the very door she’d entered through.

“That blade of yours might be for show spellsword!” Morwen rasped, “but mine isn’t!” she backed away, gasping as the adrenaline left her. She turned down to Albert, “are you okay?”

“M-Morwen,” he rasped, pointing to the door.

Alarica grappled with the blade, slowly pulling it out of herself, unpinning her body from the door. She stood up, regarding the blade curiously for a moment, then letting it drop to the floor with a clatter. She gave a toothy grin to Morwen as she rolled her head back and forth, cracking her neck. Blue flames began to dance around her cruel eyes, as she reached over her shoulder and drew her own broadsword.

“It seems we both underestimated each other,” she said, taking a step forward. Her voice had grown warped, distorted, like it was bubbling up from a fetid bog.

“Albert,” Morwen hissed, reaching for her rifle, “hide!”

…

Brodda groaned as another of the fat lordlings punched him across the jaw, the rest of his fellows guffawing as the noblemen gathered around the captured former bandit. They had him tied in the courtyard, and as they drank and celebrated their success, they entertained themselves by striking the feared outlaw.

He swore under his breath as another one took his turn, kicking him squarely in the shin. If he could only signal his men, they’d run these cowards and their knights out of the castle at bayonet point… He winced as another man approached.

There was a roar from somewhere overhead, and the flapping of leathern wings. The nobles and their levies paused their torment, scanning the sky nervously. They all went wide eyed as a massive burst of flame lit up a cloud, and a moment later the ground shook as the hundred twenty foot dragoness peered over the castle walls into the courtyard.

“BRODDA!” she howled angrily, “you stood me up! Nobody stands up Alexis the red dragon!” For emphasis she blew another jet of white-hot flame into the air, causing the people below to cry out in panic. She looked down into the courtyard and her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. A different kind of anger began to well in her chest, and smoke drifted from her nostrils as the gathered men whimpered in fear.

“Brodda,” she said in a low voice, “what is this? What is going on?”

“Untie me,” Brodda whispered to the nearest man, who numbly obeyed. Brodda grunted as he fell to the ground, looking up at his increasingly furious draconic paramour. He took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say. “Hey,” he whispered to a fat noble who seemed to be in charge, “unless you want to die, play along!”

He put on a grin he knew she loved, now quite a bit diminished due to his swelling lips and black eye, “Alexis!” he shouted happily, “darling! I’m so glad to see you! I’m sorry I missed our date.” He looked back to the terrified nobles and knights, “I just uhh…” He snapped his fingers, “I fell off my horse!”

“Your horse?” Alexis said incredulously, “you look awfully beaten up for a tumble from the saddle.”

“I was riding near some stairs,” he said, thinking quickly, “I fell all the way down!” he gestured to the men behind him, who nervously began agreeing in low voices.

“And what were these men doing to you?” she asked, crossing her arms as those slitted eyes traced over the crowd.

“They were checking me for injuries,” he lied, and the crowd enthusiastically agreed, some even running up and pointing to his arms, doing faux examinations.

“You’re lying to me,” she said angrily, “these men beat you half to death, and now you’re trying to protect them from me!” She opened her mouth, letting a single ball of fire escape that dissipated only a few feet from her lips.

“I…” he looked back at the panicked nobles, who had moments earlier been laughing and striking him mercilessly. He sighed, “Okay, yes, it’s true, this is a coup, and these men are on the other side, but PLEASE don’t burn them all alive!”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t,” the dragoness growled as she leaned in close. Some of them began crying at that point, falling to the ground and begging for forgiveness. Alexis just licked her lips as a quit jet of flame left her nostrils, “nobody touches ANYTHING that belongs to a dragon! And that includes her man!”

“Spare them please,” he asked in a tired voice, “you can call it my birthday present.”

A smile traced across her features, “Oh Brodda, you’re such a kind hearted man, I do love you so…” she reached down and picked him up, hugging her to the part of her cheek where skin and scales met. She glared down at the traitors, “as for the rest of you!” she snarled, “get on the ground, and if any of you gets up even your bones will be burned to ash!”

The men all looked at one another, then in unison lay down on their bellies, hands behind their heads.

“Thank you darling,” Brodda said with a chuckle, “now, can you take me over to town? I need to rally my soldiers.”

…

Albert watched as Morwen snarled, firing a gunshot at the intruder who was launched backwards by the force. With a battle cry she scooped her sword of the floor, and continued her attack, the clangs of their swords echoing down the hallway.

Morwen had said to hide but… He scowled, he couldn’t, he glanced down that the floor, remembering Meghan’s reaction to being stepped on. They were apparently a lot more durable than expected at this size…

“No guts no glory,” he muttered, leaping from the mattress. He made contact with the floor with a roll, picking himself up and checking for injuries. It hadn’t so much as stung, and with a sigh he ran for the open door, hoping he could find a way to help.

…

Alarica growled angrily as she heard alarm bells going off outside the castle. They’d be swarming with the king’s loyal soldiers any minute, apparently the fool noblemen hadn’t been able to take care of the bandit chief like she’d expected. Worse yet this woman had fought her all the way into the throne room, it was time to reveal her power in full.

“Come to me, my babies!” she called happily.

Morwen paused their battle, listening to the sounds of heavy stone lids hitting the castle’s floor. She gripped her sword tightly, her knuckles going white as shambling skeletons and zombies entered the hallways, all of them with the same burning blue eyes as Alarica. From the sounds of battle coming from outside, her brother and his men had encountered them as well.

“Those weren’t treasure chests I brought you,” the sorceress chuckled, leveling her sword at Morwen even as her “children” swarmed around her, “those were crypts!”

Morwen hacked at the creatures, crumbling them to scattered bones and slicing their rotting limbs off, but there were too many. She screamed as she was overwhelmed, buried in the undead horde. Alarica just laughed, twirling her finger and ordering her minions to bring the captured woman to her.

“Look at you!” she said eagerly, gazing at the scars up and down Morwen’s arms, “I think I recognize this ritual,” she laughed as the undead hauled the struggling woman behind her as she walked, “yes, they were making a flesh golem out of you! They hollowed you out like a pumpkin!” she mocked, “filled you with trinkets and toys… are you even a person anymore? It looks like they were almost done… They probably threw your heart in the rubbish pile, what else did they swap out? Lungs? Liver maybe?”

“I’ll tear you apart!” Morwen hissed angrily.

“I’d do the same to you, but someone already did,” Alarica chuckled. “No, I’ve got a better idea.” She hefted the sword, tracing the tip in a slow line along Morwen’s forehead, “I’m going to finish you,” she explained.

“No,” Morwen whispered, her face going white.

“It seems a waste of all that hard work not to complete what those other wizards began,” Alarica laughed, “there is just one last thing to swap out and you’re done, that mush between your ears.” She smiled, “you’ll make a wonderful servant for me.”

The world shook, and the high stone ceiling collapsed inward, crushing a dozen undead thralls as a giant talon pierced the roof. Alarica paused, her eyes narrowing as the immense form of Cyrene dropped into the throne room. Her skeletons ran at the harpy, swords raised, but almost casually those talons darted out, knocking them over and tearing them to pieces.

“The bigger they are,” Alarica muttered, a bolt of blue fire leaping from her hand toward Cyrene. Her eyes went wide as the bolt hit a barrier that seemed to flash into existence just before the harpy’s face.

“Nice spells,” Meghan said, blue electricity dancing on her fingers, “let me show you some of mine!” A bright light flashed, and the skeletons holding Morwen flashed once, then collapsed into dust.

“Brute force,” Alarica snarled, “you have no sophistication in your casting!”

“Let me try a summon,” Meghan said mockingly, “Hey, Morwen!”

Alarica whipped around to see Morwen pulling back the hammer on a flintlock rifle, she pulled the trigger, and there was a boom that echoed through the throne room as Alarica was thrown off her feet.

“So, if anyone didn’t figure it out yet,” Meghan said, walking to join Morwen, “I think THAT is Ponteferus,” she pointed to Alarica, who was already sitting back up.

“You’re cleverer than I gave you credit for,” Alarica laughed, getting to her feet. The burned place where the bullet had struck her seemed to knit itself shut, the wound instantly disappearing. “Ponteferus was a little character I made up, a lich’s lich that I could pretend to defeat to earn the trust of those fool noblemen.”

“She doesn’t look dead,” Cyrene said curiously, “I guess we just keep ripping her up until she does?” The harpy’s talon lashed out, squeezing around Alarica like she was an errant insect. Cyrene suddenly screamed in pain as energy jolted up from the crumpled mess in her talons, leaping back and stumbling, causing the ground to shake as she fell back, causing the back wall of the throne room to crumble under her weight.

Alarica sat up, sickening cracks echoing from her as she straightened herself again, “I’ll admit to some vanity,” she said, licking her lips, “I like to wear flesh and blood, but I can assure you that I left the mortal coil long ago.”

…

Albert watched from behind his enormous throne as Alarica battled his friends. No matter what damage they did to her, it didn’t seem to stick, and she always got right back up. From the sounds of gunfire and the roar of the dragon outside, the undead were holding their own against the army as well.

He scowled; he’d never felt so helpless. Here he was, naked, inches tall, and wielding a soup spoon as his only weapon.

…

“We’ve got to destroy her Phylactery!” Meghan shouted, “she won’t be far from it!”

“Her what?!” Morwen shouted, blocking a swipe of Alarica’s sword even as the she-lich hurled lightning at Cyrene’s massive form.

“She has her soul in it!” Meghan shouted, “she’ll crumble to dust if we destroy it!”

…

Albert heard that and frowned, a phylactery… he’d only heard tales about liches, but… it could be almost anything, couldn’t it? He watched carefully as Alarica danced in and out of battle with her three foes, never giving an inch even as she cackled madly in the throes of battle.

His gaze went to the sword… at the base of a pommel was a dark violet jewel, a mere decorative piece? Or something more? Would she really be so arrogant as to put it on a weapon like that?

“You’ll never fly again harpy!” Alarica shouted, causing a panicked Cyrene’s feathers to burst into flame. Meghan muttered a counterspell, and the fire was gone as quickly as it had come, and Cyrene screeched as her talons darted out in another series of attacks.

He blinked, forcing himself to focus. This woman, this lich, she wore flesh, a beautiful woman’s flesh, she wanted to be queen, she casually battled them and seemed to be enjoying herself… Yes, she definitely had the ego to carry it on her. Confirming his suspicion, the purple gem at the end of the sword’s pommel seemed to glow as she cast another spell towards Meghan… but would any of them notice?

He sighed and swore angrily, “It’s the sword!” he screamed as loud as he could, running out from behind the throne and hoisting his spoon in front of himself like a spear, “the gem on her sword pommel! Get it away from her!”

Alarica’s eyes darted to him, filled with hate and blue fire. Morwen saw her chance, and dancing her blade around the other woman’s she flipped it out of Alarica’s grasp, sending it skittering across the floor.

“NO!” she bellowed, a shockwave seemed to pulse out from her, throwing Meghan, Morwen, and Cyrene back as she sprinted towards her weapon.

Albert reached it first, and hefting the spoon into the clawlike décor holding the gem in place, he began to dig at it. He saw the shadow of Alarica’s boot overtake him, but he ignored it, prying with all his might.

There was a *pop* as the gem came free, rolling like a marble across the floor before a shocked and horrified Lich. She abandoned her attempt to stomp Albert out, chasing the sphere in an almost comical scene.

Finally, the phylactery came to a stop beneath Morwen’s lifted boot. Alarica’s eyes traced up, true fear on her face for the first time in centuries. The room was quiet for a moment, only the raging battle outside breaking the silence.

“P-Please-“ Alarica begged, but Morwen just brought her boot down, crushing the phylactery to dust with a sound like crunching glass. Alarica screamed, and wind seemed to whip through the throne room as she crumbled away to dust.

…

“Keep fighting men!” Brodda shouted, swinging his rifle like a club at an approaching skeleton. Alexis flew by overhead, a jet of flame raking the enemy lines. Suddenly the skeleton leaping at him went limp, tumbling over. He sighed with relief and looked up, seeing the rest of the enemy undead tumbling over themselves. He grinned and shouted in triumph, and the rest of the army joined him in cheers.

…

“When do you think the castle will be ready for us to get crowned?” Meghan asked, looking at the smoking ruins, large holes were still blown in the ceiling, and at least one side of the walls had collapsed.

“We’ll get it done eventually,” Albert laughed, lounging in Cyrene’s red hair. “Gods, what a battle,” he muttered. “Sines told me it’s the talk of the human nations, we’re getting letters from all over the place asking about it. Someone calling herself Lessie the Lamia Queen wrote me,” He laughed and shook his head, “imagine Lamia having a queen, and showing an interest in Baldania of all places.”

“That fight was one for the history books, that’s for sure,” Morwen agreed, leaning back against the grassy hill. The four of them were quiet a moment longer, watching the workers below continue to work. She shuddered a moment, “She said she was going to finish me…” she said quietly, “that she’d complete what the wizards were doing, that I wasn’t human anymore…”

“I wasn’t ever human to start with,” Cyrene said cheerfully, “I think you’re nice Morwen, and I like having you around, no matter what’s inside you.”

“Agreed,” Albert said, peering over Cyrene’s lochs down at her. “You’re more than the sum of your parts.”

“Thanks,” Morwen said with a small smile.

“So, what do we do now?” Meghan asked, leaning back.

“I guess we should go down there and see if we can help,” he muttered, “I can pick up pebbles or something,” he joked. “It wouldn’t do for the king to be seen resting on his laurels while his subjects break their backs working after all.”

“Yes, we’ll be working up quite a sweat rebuilding,” Morwen said, the corner of her mouth twisting into a smile, “I think someone still has a ride in my boot coming?”

“Uhh…” Albert gulped, “Now the thing is-“

Cyrene just giggled as she reached up, pulling him out of her hair and handing him down to Morwen’s waiting palm. He looked around, hoping for a way out, and he smiled when he noticed the bracelet on Meghan’s arm.

“Meghan!” he said, “I want my turn being big, right now!”

The court mage reached for it, but Morwen stopped her, “Let him grow back Meghan, and you’re going in my boot.”

“Uhhh…” The mage gulped, “sorry Al, I know I said no more betraying you, but I’m making an exception for this one.”

He stared at her a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh. The others joined him, and he gave a happy sigh as he looked down over the rolling green hills of the kingdom…

Cyrene seemed to notice him looking, “your kingdom really is nice on these sunny mornings Albert,” the harpy said wistfully.

“Ours,” he said with a smile, looking back at all of them, “it’s OUR kingdom.”