Giantess Stories: TASGENI

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Scott Grildrig


Dragons are a nasty lot. They are ill-tempered, ill-mannered, ill-willed, easily

irked and inevitably ill-intentioned. Their hunger is deep and inassuagable.

Their tastes are vile and deplorable. They prefer to dine on young virgins, for

reasons never adequately explained, but which fits in nicely with the ever

expanding list of `ills' and the whole bad taste thing. Every kingdom ever

founded seems to be plagued by a dragon (they have a strong union), which is why

the Knight Rental Service ("You pay by the Knight, not by the day") has posted a

handsome profit for the past five harvests.

The Kingdom of Prattle had a dragon problem. Because of his ferocious appetites

the roll of available virgins was swiftly dwindling, (a fact noted in the

minutes by the sole remaining member of the Virgin Union). Dues were down,

eligible bachelors were flocking to the Less-Than-Virgin shop (run by a man

named Hymen, but that's a tale for another time), and the people were beginning

to worry what new culinary direction the draconic appetite would take when the

virgin supply ran dry. It didn't help when the King was caught making plans with

the Duke of Poxbury to turn the Last Remaining Virgin's bed chamber into a game

room, (snooker and parcheesi, with an open bar). The Princess Tasgeni's reaction

was, itself, described in draconian terms, and the King wisely opted to depart

upon a protracted hunting trip. All of which serves to explain why there was a

shortage of knights, heroes, sidekicks and such when the dragon Bitumen showed

up in a peckish mood.

The morning watch spotted the worm soaring down from the cloudless heights, a

long black plume of smoke trailing back from its nostrils. The watchman sounded

the invasion bells, but the wild clamor, far from inspiring people to hide,

instead served to bring most of the castle's inhabitants out to see what all the

fuss was about. The Princess Tasgeni, against the piteous cries of her old

nurse, stepped out onto her high tower balcony to see for herself the cause of

the commotion. Her curiosity was quickly satisfied. The dragon, anticipating

such an opportunity, plummeted like a meteor and snatched up the luckless

Princess in his claws. His beating wings swiftly lifted him upwards from the

stunned people, and the wailing cries of Tasgeni faded into the azure sky. After

that morals dipped a bit as the employees of the Less-Than-Virgin shop competed

for the now coveted title of Most-Least-Like-A-Virgin.


Tasgeni screamed her fool head off.

Not that she expected it to improve her situation, but her arms were pinned, and

she was at a loss for anything else to do.

The dragon reeked of brimstone and burnt iron. The strength of its grasp was

savage. The howling down draft from its vast bat-like pinions dislodged her

peaked hat and sent it and her long golden hair snapping and curling about her

face. No amount of struggling promised to free her, and the glimpses of farmland

far below deterred her from trying very hard. Tasgeni was a tough young woman,

though. It never occurred to her to faint. So it was that she spotted the

dragon's lair almost at the same moment that the beast began its spiraling


A great black mountain, dome topped, scoured clean of green things, loomed up

from the rocky plain. Bitumen arrowed down like a hunting falcon, curling his

wings in against his long body. For a moment Tasgeni thought they would smash

against the stone strewn slope, but at the last moment, she saw a cavern opening

dart before them. The dragon twisted and swooped into the orifice; darkness

swept away the daytime light, subterranean cold snatched away the daytime

warmth. Tasgeni closed her eyes, there was nothing to see. Suddenly, the claws

released her.

With a startled shout she tumbled to the rocky floor. Her noising turned into a

long "Eeeeeeeewwwwwwwww," as she realized what had cushioned her fall. The

dragon's lair was, much like any bachelor's, a place of ruin, devastation, and

unfinished meals.

"Thou art displeased with thy state?" The dragon's voice rumbled like summer

thunder, and drooled thick with evil.

"Swine!" shouted Tasgeni.

"Swine?" queried the dragon, and he lifted a six foot long finger, and regarded

the two foot long claw that topped it.

"I hight reptile, a scion of the entrails of Ymir."

"Nay! Thou'st the demeanor of a farting rodent!" yelled the Princess.

The dragon frowned, "Certes, thou wast tutored with an unusual bestiary. No

matter, the thoughts of the prey, howsoever addled, little affect the succulence

of the brain. Hast thou an animal with which to answer that?"

Tasgeni just glared at the worm. It's hard to toss back an appropriate, much

less an effective retort at someone (or something) that has just revealed to you

your special seat at the supper board.

"Speechless, little morsel?" simpered Bitumen, and he chuckled evilly. "More's

the pity, for only through words can thee hope to fend off the moment when we

are joined."

He reached out with his claws towards the Princess, who yelped and dove aside.

Time and again he dabbed at her, playing her as the mouse, and laughing darkly

at his sport. And every time he struck he missed by a diminished distance,

leaving Tasgeni no doubt about the nature of his play. But her spirit refused to

despair, and she leapt like a hunted doe, evading the dragon's reach. Yet she

knew the end was nigh, and she steeled herself for death, when suddenly the

dragon was distracted from her. His great head rose up and up, and held still

for a moment, as if harkening to a distance voice.

"Behold, little morsel," he growled, "the sun, my mother, descends now into

night. I must rise and pray for her return before I may feast." And his arm

uncoiled like a striking snake, and caught Tasgeni within his fingers. She

wailed and fought, but the dragon paid her no heed, instead he carried her to an

iron door wrought into the wall of his cave, and wrenched it open with a hideous

squalling of hinges. "Thou mayest dwell in her for a time, until I return from

my duty. Then shall we renew our game, or mayhaps I shall just appease my

hunger, and be done."

And he tossed the Princess into the room, and slammed shut the huge door with a

thunderous clang!


It was very dark in the cave. Very, very dark. A periodic splash of water echoed

in the distance. The cave was large. Very, very large. The Princess mulled over

her predicament for a moment. Screaming, while satisfying and emotionally

cleansing, was not going to get her out of here. Still...

She clenched her hands into fists, took a deep breath, and then she screamed,

long, loud and lustily.

The echoes slammed from wall to wall, reverberating and crossing into a

cacophony of shill panicky noise. She screamed herself breathless. Then,

adjusting her clothes and straightening her hat, she went about the more

productive task of finding something to help; her dignity in no way reduced by

her heavy panting from her exertion. The floor was dusty, and the smell of age

had accumulated everywhere. Occasionally she heard the tinkling of coins or gems

scattered by her feet. She climbed shifting piles of loot, and bumped into

barrels and chests, but most of those were sealed or locked, and it was long

before she found a container that opened. It was an ancient chest. Its lid

creaked ominously as she lifted it, then fell backwards with a loud bang! But

the Princess' attention was captivated by the golden contents kept within. Each

coin, each goblet, each delicate chain gave off a rich radiance that spilled out

of the chest and into the cavern. Things were illuminated well enough for her to

see something of the size of her prison.

The walls were distant glittering veils, the ceiling was lost in murky darkness,

and everywhere were scattered the spoils of the dragon. It was a vast hoard, and

a precious one, but she was bent on leaving. Let a knight take the wealth. Off

to one side she saw what appeared to be a door, but the light barely grazed it,

it was too far away. Kneeling, she ran her fingers through the gold, lifting out

some coins in the hope that she could use them to guide her way. But each object

she removed guttered and faded, and she soon realized that something, the chest

itself or some prize within was responsible for the magical light.

It did not take long for her to locate the charmed object. It was a short piece

of braided gold, crafted into the form of a snake, with ruby eyes and emerald

teeth. It's belly was scaled in silver, and it bent easily within her fingers.

The contents of the chest flickered and faded when she removed the talisman, but

only gold amplified its light, her hand did not shine of its own accord. Yet the

snake, itself, was bright enough to guide her. Holding it overhead like a torch,

she began to wend her way to the distant door.

Now at first the charm was cold within her grasp, but it quickly warmed from her

touch. She didn't make any note of it -until it wriggled. With a startled yelp

she tried to hurl the dreadful thing away, but the shining snake curled down

around her hand and began winding its way up her arm. Prying at it with her left

hand proved useless, and she cast about for something to leverage against it.

The magical charm ignored all her efforts to dislodge it, but climbed up past

her elbow and curled itself snugly around her upper arm. Once settled into place

it stiffened into a kind of a bracelet, and its eerie radiance faded, seeping

deep into her arm before disappearing.


He rose up into the sky, biting and roaring at the winds that vied with him,

spreading flame across the clouds to answer the red hues of the settling sun.

Far away eyes, briefly glancing at the grand spectacle, commented on the beauty

of the sky, but without ever knowing how it truly came to be.


Something was wrong.

Of course, when one is trapped blind within the cave of a dragon that means to

return shortly and eat you, this observation loses some of its value.

The snake charm wrapped about her arm was a dratted nuisance, but seemed

finished with its mischief. Yet she felt sure that something worse was in store

for her. The noise of dripping water had shifted. It seemed lower, though she

was sure she had not ascended higher within the cave. Nor was that the only

mystery, for it seemed that the contents of the cave were themselves changing in

some strange way. Her need for light was great. And though it proved difficult

to find, she cast about relentlessly until she found what felt to be a drinking

vessel with a soft metal rim. She muttered a silent prayer, and pressed the

thing against the snake bracelet.

Blessed light flooded the cave again, and Tasgeni began to worry anew.

Everything was smaller. But whether she was expanding, or the cave was shrinking

she could not tell. The touch of gold seemed to feed the process, and as she

watched the walls closed in upon her, and all the treasure dwindled into

trinkets. She was at war within herself; part of her was appalled by the change,

but to separate the gold from the snake would rob her of light. On the other

hand, provided that it was she that was expanded and not the room diminishing,

she realized that she would soon be able to treat with the worm on its own vast

terms. It was not until her head brushed the ceiling of the chamber that it

occurred to her that there might be another complication.

By now she was a giantess without parallel. The mighty door that the dragon had

opened was reduced to mere ankle-height. The expansive chamber was swiftly

becoming a cramped cubbyhole. She sighed with resignation, the darkness would

have to be endured, and she discarded the goblet, itself grown to more than

heroic proportions.

But her growth, though abated, was not ended, and she was forced down onto her

knees under the descending weight of the stony roof. What had seemed a solution

to her dilemma was turning into a crisis all its own. Tasgeni crouched down as

far as she could, and her colossal body filled all the corners of the cave. But

still she grew, and there was no place now for her to go. Mulling over the

matter she decided upon the only practical course of action left to her. If it

worked, fine and well. If it did not work, well, time enough to dwell upon that

in its own turn. Tasgeni stood up.

The weight of the mountain rested upon her shoulders, but she was grown now to a

size sufficient to such loads. Shifting her weight she managed to get one leg

beneath herself. Slowly she pressed upward, causing the stone to lift and

compress. She felt the rock groan and buckle, she felt a surge of strength

brought about by the clear realization of a power able to break the very hills,

yet she was barely exerting herself.

Laughing deeply the giant Princess unloosed her full strength.

The top of the mountain cracked like thunder and erupted violently, casting huge

fragments of shattered stone in every direction. Rising from the ruin like some

goddess reborn, Tasgeni lifted her arms over her head and crowed with delight.

Stretching and bending, she dismissed the horror of the cave, drawing in huge

draughts of the sweet twilight air. She was free.


Bitumen completed his dance. The sun was gone, swallowed up into another night.

His dark heart laughed with glee, and he turned back for his mountain. The

bright light of the full moon did not challenge him like the sun, for it was

cold, cold as ice. Bending back his head he let trail a long jet of hell-fire,

spitting at the stars, scarring the night with his wild display. But hunger

gnawed at his belly, and evil re-awoke within his heart. His victim, lost in

darkness, pursued by fear would now be ripe for the taking. Eager to have her he

ceased his play, and flew straight and swift to his lair.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw his mountain. The dome was higher,

irregular, and there was something strangely familiar about its altered

contours. Tasgeni knew the dragon was back, for he let loose a howl of rage that

lit the night. The mountain still held her in a tight grip from her hips down,

and she did not have the leverage to break free. So she twisted to face him.

Bitumen seethed with anger. The more so as his draconic sight spotted the

magical talisman wrapped around the giantess' arm. Angling down he beat his

wings, driving himself faster and faster. He drew breath, his slitted eyes drawn

to the great golden snake. He drew a last long gasp of air and...

Tasgeni swatted him like a mosquito. His breath blew out in a ball of flame, too

tenuous to sear the hand of the Princess. Lights danced in the dragon's eyes as

he arced backwards, falling dangerously close to the ground before regaining his

sense and rising back into the sky. His eyes glowed lava red. His tail whipped

and snapped as he arrowed at the face of the Princess.

Wham! Tasgeni gave the dragon the back of her hand, sending him spinning ass

over tea-kettle. His fiery discharge made him look like a runaway pinwheel. But

dragons are tough as stone, and about as quick to take a hint.

Bitumen recovered his wits and soared upwards, slamming his mighty wings against

the air, driving himself higher and higher. He climbed for a full minute, then

turned, tucked his wings in tight against his scaly body, and fell straight at

the Princess. The wind ripped at his slitted eyes, pulled at his stiffly held

pinions. Faster and faster he fell. Opening his jaws ever so slightly, he let

the wind pour into his body, fanning his fires, filling him with searing flame.

Faster and faster. He saw the land rising up, saw his mountain, saw the giant

Princess. He watched her raise a hand nearly the size of a quarter-acre field.

Too late he tried to pull out, to turn aside or slow his descent.

Tasgeni batted him clear over the horizon.


Bitumen awoke several hours later.

Now, dragons may be slow to recognize a superior opponent, but those who do not

rarely grow to Bitumen's size. On the other claw, dragons are sore losers, and

when strength fails they never hesitate to resort to base cunning. Bitumen was

not sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to get that Princess out of

his mountain.


Symfrall was a big man.

He stood just under two ells tall, and weighed about twenty-five stone. His

shoulders were as broad as most people were tall. His muscles were like gnarled

tree roots. When angry he was terrifying. When friendly he was terrifying.

He was prime knight material.

His horse was equally monstrous, a chestnut stallion named Domhona. When armored

and mounted Symfrall was unstoppable, unbeatable, invulnerable. In other words a

guaranteed 1:1 odds at the local fete.

And to be honest, Symfrall became bored with it all: the countless jousting

victories, the melee victories, the dueling victories. So, seeking a challenge

more suitable to his mettle, he took to being a Knight Wanderer, questing for

adventure wheresoever it might be cowering.

Bitumen spotted Symfrall from the air, and immediately discerned within him a

resolution to his princess problem. Knights tend towards lawful attributes,

which makes them predictable in everything save battle. And any knight with a

princess becomes in itself its own story. Right now Bitumen wanted the giantess

out of his lair. Retribution for her thwarting of his hunger would come in its

own time. Besides, he was suffering from a splitting headache from his boxing at

her hands, and all he really wanted to do was curl up in some gold and sleep for

a week. Still, evil deeds awaited, and the dragon glided down to confront the



"Greetings, thou armored can of soup," jeered the dragon.

The knight's horse reared up, pawing wildly at the air, its voice a shriek of

defiance. There was a metallic ringing, and the knight's sword glittered

brightly in the moonlight.

"Get thee gone," snarled the champion. "Thou wilt find no sport here, only


"Prithee," simpered Bitumen. "The can wields its own dire opener. Mercy, what

ever shall become of me." And he spat a ball of fiery vitriol at Symfrall, who

struck it aside with his blade.

"Damn thee to hades," cursed Symfrall. "Either fight or flee, not this coward's


"Egad, look at the time," said the dragon, glancing at his empty wrist. "Guess

I'll have to skip the beer run, and just have my meal with a glass of milk. How

do you like your princess? Well done or medium rare?"

"Thou fiend," sputtered Symfrall. "What damsel suffers from thy benighted


"A blonde I think," mused Bitumen. "Ah, but they all look the same when they

come off the barbee. Must dash. Drop by sometime, and I'll have you for lunch."

And with a wicked chortle the dragon spun about and flew off.

The taunts struck home. With a fierce cry Symfrall snapped the reigns of Domhona,

and the war-stead answered in kind and sped off after the fleeing dragon.

Bitumen had been concerned that he might have to dawdle in a convincing manner,

to give the outraged knight opportunity to keep him in sight. But Domhona was a

lightening bolt with legs, leaping every ravine, crashing unhindered through

bush and sapling. So all it took was a little more verbal abuse, and a lot of

guiding, and within two hours the dragon had brought his unknowing helper within

sight of the mountains where the Princess still stood. Shrieking flame laden

curses, the dragon warned the knight away from the upcoming range, then lifted

into the sky to let pride and anger do their work.

Symfrall stared at the dwindling dragon, confused by his sudden departure.

Waving his sword a little he glanced around as if seeking something to chop,

then, calming a little, decided instead to sheath the glittering blade. The moon

shone down brightly upon the blasted wasteland that was the keep about the

dragon's mountainous abode. Symfrall held the reigns loosely, letting Domhona

carefully pick his way amongst the jagged rocks. A slight movement in the

vicinity of the nearest peak caused him to believe that the dragon was now

seeking refuge within its dark lair. So, satisfied that things were working out

about normal, Symfrall guided his stallion closer towards the nearby mountain.

Moonlight and darkness mocked his sight, so that the landscape, or more

particularly the mountain, seemed to waver of its own accord. And once he heard

the wind sigh with what sounded like a woman's voice. Deeming it some witchcraft

of the dragon's devising, he averted his gaze, and pressed onward, until he came

within sight of what seemed to be an opening into the side of the mountain.

Symfrall had a prepared speech that he had learned by rote. Raising his sword on

high (which tried valiantly to lend majesty to the occasion by humming something

by the minstrel Manilow), Symfrall shouted with a great voice: "Here is Symfrall,

Knight Wanderer, slayer of beasts, who comes to this foul lair to rescue

innocence from the haggard clutches of evil. Come forth dread demon. Come forth

and meet thy doom. Come forth damned dragon. Come forth and... "Eeeeek!"

That last word was not a part of Symfrall's speech. But the Princess, hearing

the proud words of challenge spoken by her rescuer (or to be more accurate,

having discerned a kind of squeaky hauteur going on behind her back) had turned

around to better see him. And Symfrall, upon beholding a portion of the mountain

move and resolve itself into a beautiful, if colossal woman, had selected "Eeeek"

as the best way to express his alarm. Alas, the Princess might not have been

smiling so prettily, if she had known that her knight in shining armor was

entertaining thoughts of galloping away. In the meantime Valorja was humming a

ditty Rod Serling would have approved of, and Symfrall finally had to sheath his

sword to shut the dratted thing up.

"Sir knight, hast thou come to rescue me?" Symfrall's jaw gaped, for though the

giantess' voice was feminine in timber, yet it was vast as the sky, and echoed

from the very hills like summer thunder.

"Ummmmm...yes...yes I have," he replied.

"Sorry?" said the giantess, cocking her head. "Could thou speak a little


"Yes." yelled Symfrall. The giantess thought a moment, then raised a hand palm

up and pulled in her fingers, asking for more volume. "Yes." yelled Symfrall.

"Yes! Yes! YES!" The giantess smiled and nodded her head. "I am Symfrall,"

shrieked Symfrall. "Knight wanderer and...gak." he held his throat with both

hands, as if trying to keep it from exploding.

The giantess waited a moment, to be sure the knight was done with his

introduction, and seeing he was in no condition to question her answered in

turn. "Greetings, Sir Symfrall. I hight Princess Tasgeni, Nodwood's daughter of

Kingdom Prattle. Thou hast my eternal gratitude for thy arrival in my moment of

need. My father, the King, will surely shower thee with wealth for this days


Symfrall tried to show his own thanks with some gestures, made awkward by his

insistence of keeping one hand always on his aching throat.

"Pray, good sir knight? Wouldst our words together be made easier if I were to

descend to thy level?" Symfrall thought about this, and tried to indicate his

uncertainty by raising his hand and scratching his head. Unfortunately, to

Tasgeni it looked like he was waving for her to come down. "Bide a moment," she

answered, and reaching out laid her hands upon the slopes of the nearby hills.

Then, with the strength and grace of youth, augmented by her gigantic stature,

she vaulted herself up from out of the confining maw of the mountain. Symfrall

looked up and up and up as his damsel-in-distress floated skyward like some

magical tower, her long dark shadow dropping over him blotting out the sky. Her

descent was no less spectacular, and when she landed three things happened: the

earth shook as though a thing gone mad, the stars, moon and landscape vanished

behind a cliff of fabric, and Domhona, Symfrall's horse, fainted away deader

than dirt.


Tasgeni had a fretful moment when she realized that her rescuer was nowhere to

be seen. Visions of his body turned into something flatter than a kipper made

her lip tremble and her eyes begin to tear. But then she heard a faint sound, as

of a woman screaming, and it occurred to her that her hero was not only alive,

but perhaps not quite so much of a hero. Bundling up her dress in her fingers,

she bent forward a little, enough to peer down between her feet. There she saw

her knight in shining armor trying to quell the yipping shrieks of his

magnificent stallion. All attempts to shush the beast did naught but to wind him

up even further, and when Symfrall realized that the Princess held him under her

scrutiny, he threw his mighty fist, and sent Domhona back to kissing dirt. Never

taking her eyes off her hero, Tasgeni shuffled backwards until horse and man

emerged from beneath the voluminous swells of her dress. Then, curling her legs

beneath herself, she sat down and considered more closely her diminutive


"Who should be rescuing who here?" Tasgeni finally asked.

"What?" yelped Symfrall with indignation. "I came here in pursuit of that thrice

damned worm, expecting to come to the aid of some royal maiden, not

some...some...aaaaa" Tasgeni's countenance was bland, but her fingers were

drumming incessantly upon her knee. "Aaaaaaaa... soooo, what evil magic brought

thee to this plight?" He finished quickly.

Tasgeni frowned and harumphed. "Yon dragon cast me within his treasure vault.

There I chanced upon this potent talisman," and she touched the snake with her

fingers. "It has been a mixed blessing. Without this change I would now be

bloating the belly of the worm. But these are not the proportions of a lady of

the court. I would return to my original size."

"Hast thou attempted the removal of the charm?" asked Symfrall.

"Of course," snapped Tasgeni.

"I could hack at it with Valorja," suggested Symfrall.

"I would like to consider other options first."

"Are thee up to some travelling?"

"To where?" asked Tasgeni.

"Nogcunmanodin's vale," said Symfrall.


"What? Nonononono. The wizard, Nogcunmanodin. He who forged my sword Valorja. My

mentor. The wisest man west of the Kallera Mountains."

"You know," mused the Princess. "At my current size the Kallera really aren't

that far..." It was a measure of Symfrall's doughtiness that he was able to

silence the giantess with a glare and a frown. An effect that was quickly

demolished, however, as Tasgeni giggled at her little knight. "Apologies, sir

champion," she sighed. "Let us test the knowledge of thy teacher. I'll not

malign him again. When shall we start?"

"Now would be best," said Symfrall. "Lest the dragon return with a more dire

mode of attack." He glanced at the brown lump that was his magnificent war

stallion. "There is a problem, though."

"Nay," answered Tasgeni. "Not if pride can bend to the moment."


Bitumen plotted.

This is something that dragons are really, really good at. They own the cunning,

the evil and the patience to pull together some supremely inspired ideas.

Unfortunately for the cause of darkness, Bitumen's head was still ringing from

being thwacked! over the horizon, and he wasn't able to dream up anything more

wicked than to try and get a rival kingdom to wage war against the Princess'

realm. A quick reference to his political map listed Draxis as the neighboring

power with the resources and the mettle to carry out such a plan. And the lord

of the land, Hablrod, was listed in the Naddle Yark Times' Top Ten most evil

monarchs. Such a man would be capable of anything. It was a better piece of luck

than such scanty and disingenuous planning deserved. But dragons are also

opportunists. Bitumen filled an old canvas bag with ice, strapped it to his

throbbing head, and launched himself in the general direction of Draxis.


It was an unusual mode of travel.

Tasgeni cradled the unconscious Domhona in her arm, whilst Symfrall rode upon

her bare shoulder with a strand of her golden hair wrapped twice around his

waist. This position was doubly fortuitous since it offered Symfrall an

unparalleled view of the land, and removed the necessity of prolonged bouts of

shouting. By his reckoning, the Princess at a comfortable stride made speed at

nearly three times the haste of a horse at full gallop. Nor was she defeated by

rivers, chasms or dense thickets. Symfrall was more than a little daunted by

such a casual display of prowess, but to his surprise, he found himself enjoying

the lesson; certainly no one else had ever been able to overtop him as did this

gentle giantess.

For her part, Tasgeni's attention was divided between watching where she was

going, and trying not to dislodge her passengers with any sudden shifts or

movements. When Symfrall was very still she could barely detect him upon her

shoulder, but denied herself the luxury of a glance, lest her chin send the

knight tumbling from his perch. Instead she contented herself with questions

about the path, and if Symfrall wondered at the frequency of her inquiries, he

never mentioned it.

All in all it was a swift and uneventful journey, with only two exceptions of

any note.

The first came when they passed through the borough of Eltavera. The county's

village was nestled between the steep ridges of the southern most extent of the

Kallera, and Symfrall was insistent that they take this route. Thus the good

citizens were the first in Prattle to see the giant Princess, and they dealt Ranking 7 Mejores tijeras de peluquería del Mercado: ¡Consigue cortes de pelo increíbles! - 2021

with the visit like they might any invasion or plague.

"Where are my people?" asked Tasgeni.

"Likely in their wine cellars," chuckled Symfrall. "And if they be as normal as

they are kind-hearted, may they at least grant us one blessing amidst their

comforts. Now, hasten as ye may, but not in lieu of caution."

Then Tasgeni moved through the streets of the tiny burg, stepping as carefully

as she might, her skirts raised so that she might better follow the motions of

her feet. It took several minutes to navigate the winding carriage-ways, and

once she had to step over a row of homes to avoid a long detour, but the town

escaped any more serious damage than a single flattened wain to mark her

passage. Still, for long the people sat in their cellars and tested the wines,

and waited until the earth ceased to rumble, and the dust stopped sifting from

the ceiling, before they emerged to gossip over the amazing visitation.

The second event was not nearly as perilous, but quite a shock nonetheless; for

a few miles later Domhona woke up. Tasgeni felt the stallion stir and twitch,

and she began to say something to Symfrall when the horse went berserk. Stooping

down she let the animal tumble down her skirts to the ground, and tried to

corral him within the expanse of her arms. Symfrall didn't realize there was

trouble until Tasgeni's shoulder dropped out from under him like the hangman's

trap. He quickly saw the problem, though, and unsheathing Valorja liberated

himself from Tasgeni's single strand of hair.

Resheathing the humming sword he dove forward, intending to clear the Princess'

bodice and follow his stallion's path to the ground. Misfortune seized the

moment, his aim proved inadequate to the task, and he disappeared feet first

into Tasgeni's ample cleavage with a muffled oath.

The Princess, for her part, squeaked in surprise, and nearly lost track of

Domhona. She debated grabbing the horse and then fishing out her champion turned

peeping Tom, but she distrusted her strength, and instead leaned forward,

thinking that a wise Symfrall would not linger in his current predicament.

In fact, Symfrall was at a momentary loss, for until she bowed down Tasgeni's

breasts held him in an exceedingly warm, soft and inescapable prison. And he,

with his arms raised over his head, had no way to gain purchase or wriggle free.

But when she bent her body he was able to slide to the material of her dress,

and using his fingers crawled up and out of that intimate embrace. With a final

pull Symfrall tumbled down Tasgeni's dress into the ring made of her arms. A

quick glance at her lovely face convinced him that he should marshal his best

answer whilst attending to calming Domhona.

It was his good luck that Domhona took a great deal of cajoling and soothing

before he suffered to stand still. It was better luck that Tasgeni was herself

permitted to calm a little, being perhaps somewhat mollified by Symfrall's

obvious concern for his steed. Being a Princess, however, means never having to

forgive anyone, and when Domhona was quiescent enough to graze, she drew away a

little and motioned to her champion to follow.

"Now, sirrah," she whispered. "Your horse I can pardon, but what of thy own


"Your forgiveness, Princess," said Symfrall. "In my haste to see to the needs of

my charger I mistook my fall and dishonored thee. There is nothing for it but

for thou to take whatever punishment thee deem fitting. But I would beg of thee

that ye postpone thy judgement until I can absolve my prior duty to thee, and

deliver thee to the wisdom of wizard Nogcunmanodin."

Tasgeni's eyes glittered, and she stifled a smile, for the words were proper in

form, though maybe a bit too proud. Still, there was within her no intention of

harming Symfrall. But the promise of his absolution offered in words near to an

oath, intrigued her, and she thought a moment. "Very well, sir Champion. I will

restrain my judgment, but thy penitence is in my hands, and we will speak of

this at some later time of my own choosing."

"So be it," said Symfrall. And for that time nothing more was said of it.


Nogcunmanodin cast the bones. They rattled and tumbled and fell into a pile, and

he stared at them long.

"'Big things'," he mumbled. "Dratted things," he said gathering them up into his

hand. "Can't be any more specific, huh? Why do you think scrying's so damned

popular. None of these half answers. Now, deliver, or I'll get a goat." And he

tossed the bones. "Lessee, lessee," muttered the wizard. "`Don't look now, but

there is a giant princess'...huh?"

For at that very moment a shadow passed over the sun, as though blocked by a

cloud of prodigious depth. Nogcunmanodin held out a hand and looked up. Straight

into the inquiring face of Tasgeni.

"Whoa," said the wizard. "Look at this, look at this," He cried, pointing from

the bones to the giantess. "A mountain shows up on my doorstep and all you can

say are `big things'? Fah! dratted dragon bones have a mind of their own." And

he tossed them away. A moment later, as if remembering his company, his pointed

up an accusing finger and yelled, "I hope you're not standing on my azaleas!"

Tasgeni glanced down, started a bit guiltily, and moved a step to the left. She

hesitated a moment, as though listening to some voice, raised her hands to her

shoulder, then lowered them to a space a few yards in front of the wizard.

Opening them she released Symfrall, who stumbled off her fingers, and stopped to

brush the dust from his armor.

"Symfrall Sanderson," growled Nogcunmanodin. "Don't you know it's dangerous to

lead an interesting life?"

"Teacher, the interesting things seek me out, not I them."

"Yah, `tis always been like that with you. Well, come on, come on, spin this

tale for me, only make it quick, I haven't had breakfast yet."


Nogcunmanodin stared up at Tasgeni, mulling over the things that had been told

to him. "Alright, lass," he finally called. "Boost me up so that I may more

closely examine this charm about you."

Tasgeni frowned at the familiarity, but lowered her hand for the wizard to

embark upon, and lifted him up next to her arm. Nogcunmanodin stepped forward

and tapped the magical snake with his fist. Pulling out a short wand he muttered

something over it and pressed it against the golden scales. Nothing happened.

Examining the wand the wizard invoked a stronger spell, his voice rising in

volume and authority, and this time he struck the snake with all his might. The

gold shimmered a moment, then faded.

"Strong stuff," said Nogcunmanodin, and stepping off Tasgeni's open palm he

drifted back down to the entrance of his cave. "Bide a moment while I muster

more potent artillery," he called, and vanished into the darkness.

Tasgeni glanced down at Symfrall. "Are thou sure he can help?" she asked.

Symfrall held out his hands in a gesture of resignation. "I know of none

better," he answered. "And even if he cannot loose the spell of his own power, I

would be amazed if he could not at least instruct us in some other way to

dislodge it."

At that moment the wizard emerged from his cave, dragging a silver staff of

grand proportions. "Holla! Princess, could you grant me another lift to yonder

conundrum?" A moment later he was puffing from exertion as he tried to lift the

staff into an upright posture. Stopping to regain his composure, Nogcunmanodin

began to chant, and as he chanted the staff grew lighter or he stronger, and he

raised it high with one hand. The golden snake began to glow, pulsing in rhythm

with the voice of the wizard, its emanations throbbing faster and faster, until

with a terrific whack! he brought the staff down upon the snake. Thunder sounded

in the distance and the head of the snake rose from its place and hissed

venomously at Nogcunmanodin. He struck it several times, but the charm stayed

put, its jewel encrusted tongue stabbing at the air. Finally the wizard dropped

his arm, his chant guttered away into silence, but the snake was still

enlivened, and still hissed softly, now and again.

"`Tis no use," proclaimed the wizard. "This spell was cast in earnest and

nothing may dissuade it, but to see it to fruition. Giants of the north wrought

this charm in the ancient past, and imbued it with the strength of Midgard's

serpent. Now, though their days be long passed, still this magic has potency

beyond the manna I can command."

"What then," asked Tasgeni softly, "is needed to complete the spell?"

"Let us find out," said Nogcunmanodin, and pointing the staff at the head of the

snake, he spoke a word of command. For a moment the snake paused, then slowly it

began to reach its head towards the wizard. For a moment Tasgeni was of a mind

to catch the snake within her fingers and try to unravel it. But Nogcunmanodin,

reading her intentions, raised a hand of warning against her, and waited while

the mouth of the snake came near to the side of his head. For a long moment the

snake and the wizard stood thus, the forked tongue flickering into view as the

snake spoke words of instruction into the ear of the wizard. Nogcunmanodin

stiffened, and his face grew strained as he took in the words. Finally, the

snake withdrew, and returned to its abode about the arm of the Princess, and all

semblance of life departed from it. But the wizard seemed in some kind of shock,

and at a loss for words gestured his will be returned to the ground. Tasgeni

complied, and she and Symfrall watched the wizard walk stiff-legged into his

cave. A moment later unrestrained laughter roared from the entrance, loud and

wild. Tasgeni turned a frown of displeasure upon Symfrall, who shrugged in

confusion, but wisely said nothing. And after a long while the peal of merriment

diminished into silence, and Nogcunmanodin stepped back into the sunshine.

"I've learned how to break the spell," he declared. "But you may not like it."

Nogcunmanodin spoke quickly, detailing the instructions of the snake, outlining

the course of the spell, and the only way that it could be broken. "There's no

hope for it," said the wizard. "The afflicted must couple in love for the spell

to unwind to completion."

"Surely, thou jest," said Symfrall.

"Nay, student, I am in deadly ernest."

"What of my oath of celibacy?"

"Did you swear thus before a holy man?"

"Nay, I was alone, under the stars."

"Then though it be a thing of worth, it pales before the greater demands of your

duty to this lady. If she asks it of you, you must set it aside."

"But the size of her. `Twould be like attending to the desires of an


"Aye," said Nogcunmanodin. "But what I have seen she already holds you in more

esteem than you deserve, and thoughts that you deem un-maidenly already occur to


"Is it the affect of the charm?"

"I could not tell you," said the wizard. "But Tasgeni means to have you, and who

says `no' to the earthquake when she decides to dance? Not thee, I think."

"Are you enjoying this?" asked Symfrall.

The wizard's face broke into a wide grin and he nodded. "Quite."

Tasgeni listened carefully to the explanations of the wizard, and showed neither

surprise, nor concern, nor abhorrence. Instead, she turned her considerable

attention upon Symfrall. "I claim the price of judgment for thy earlier

uninvited visitation upon my person," Tasgeni commanded. "Thou shall set aside

this lesser oath of thy celibacy and lay with me, so that I may rid myself of

this irksome size."

"But what of thy father's wishes?"

"The king is not, himself, larger than a castle."

"Is there no Prince for you?"

"None now court me, I am uninitiated in the motions of love."

"What? Am I expected to carry battle to your maidenhead? For of a certainty,

naught less than a battering ram could suffice against thy current proportions."

"Nay," said Tasgeni, her eyes glittering dangerously. "My proof was broken of

its own accord a number of years ago. I'll not trouble thee will the details.

But thou shall find no impediment betwixt me and thee."

"Drat," muttered Symfrall. "I mean: fine, fine, upon what earth shall the, uh,

happy event transpire?"

Tasgeni's reached down and caught up her little lover-to-be, "I know of just the



It was an achingly beautiful spot. The Clearmoor was born here, leaping like a

deer from the hills into a wide deep basin of blue water. Soft meads, and wide

flowing meadows surrounded the lake, and were themselves contained within the

arms of a forest of tall evergreens. Tasgeni carefully picked her way amongst

the trees, bemoaning every crunch! and snap! of another trunk trodden flat with

no more moment than a daisy. But with the minimum of damage, she made her way to

the edge of the lake, and there knelt down within her dress.

"`Tis a gentle view," shouted Symfrall.

"Aye," smiled the Princess, "I came here often as a child. Twas deemed safer to

let me sport here, than near to the other places where enemies might chance."

"I can almost imagine that," said Symfrall, who took a measure of the sun and

wondered if six more hours of small talk could save him from a truly unique


A half hour later, the Princess began to suspect his strategy.

"Enough," chided Tasgeni, "I'll not be getting any smaller with all of this long

talk. Now then, who shall divest themselves first, thee or me?"

Symfrall dug his toe into her palm and tried to look thoughtful.

Tasgeni's eyes flashed. "Very well," she said, and she set Symfrall down upon

the grassy earth, before standing up to her full mountain height, "Let it be


And Symfrall watched as she reached behind her neck and unclasped some buttons.

Pulling the dress down a little, she followed the line of buttons down her left

shoulder, then slowly eased the fabric down passed her bodice. More buttons on

her left had to be parted before she was able to clear her waist and step out of

the heavy material. A careless kick of her foot sent the enormous pile sailing

several hundred feet away, right to the verges of the evergreen forest. But

Symfrall's eyes never strayed from his colossal Princess. She now began to

remove the other accoutrements: girdle, bodice and corset, that certainly no

other man had ever seen. There was, however, no hint of modesty or chastity

within the glance of the Princess, and she continued to rid herself of all her

clothing, even kicking off her shoes, leaving her clad only in her powder blue

stockings. Then, reaching up she undid the pins that held her hat, cast that

aside, and let her long blonde tresses cascade down to the small of her back.

Symfrall was enchanted. His giant Princess towered over him with her arms set

lightly upon her wide hips. Her stockinged feet were sunk into the soft earth,

and spread wide enough to taunt his gaze, which traveled slowly up the

impossibly long length of her legs. His eyes locked a moment with the beautiful

sight of her womanhood, nestled within a triangular forest of lush auburn locks.

Tasgeni `tched' her tongue and Symfrall guiltily resumed his visual ascent,

admiring the flatness of her belly, and the unexpected expression of muscles.

The lady was strong at any size, but lady she was as evidenced by the prodigious

swell of her breasts. Again Symfrall found his eyes engaged with something

beyond his keen, and Tasgeni mesmerized him by slowly twisting from side to

side, affording her little lover a view of her every least curve. Her nipples

bespoke clearly of her arousal at being thus surveyed by her small knight, but

another click of her tongue brought Symfrall's gaze up into the ocean blue

depths of her own.

She smiled down at the tiny man, "It's thy turn, sir knight." And she knelt

down, and bent forward until her lovely face was hardly a score of feet away, so

that she might be the best possible audience for Symfrall's disclosure. Symfrall

was nervous about this. An oath of celibacy is a wonderful thing when you're

fighting monsters, because it encourages you to channel energy into your sword

arm. This isn't a sexual thing, though it is hormonal, if you want to take on

some demon, you'd better have everything in order, and you better not be

distracted by thoughts about your lover. Conversely, while Symfrall had

certainly given thought to the fairer sex, this thought had usually cast him in

the roll of champion, or rescuer, not in the roll of mouse. Standing now under

Tasgeni's frank and open appraisal, he was self-conscious as all hell, and in no

good position to do anything about it. So, brave man that he was, he removed his

armor and his clothing, and prepared himself for the worst.

The Princess did not laugh, though it would be unfair to report that some cruel

thoughts didn't run through her mind. Thankfully, lust won out over wit, for one

does not demean ones lover, no matter how small.

"Good sir knight," she whispered. "Come grant me a kiss." And she lowered her

head yet further.

Symfrall sighed, though with relief or resignation, even he could not have told,

and stepped forward to do as bid. The breath of his lady washed over him like a

sweet gale of summer. Her lips were more plush than an Arabians pillows, warm

and pliant to the touch. When Tasgeni's hand pressed up behind him, he started,

but could do nothing more. She pinned him against her heady kiss, smothering him

gently with her vast attentions. When finally she raised her head, Symfrall was

gasping for air, while she just smiled down at him possessively. His arms

snapped out for purchase, when the giantess rose to her feet, but she held him

secure as she stepped into the lake, and sank into it, sending a sudden wall of

water crashing out into Clearmoor river.

The lake was marvelously deep, yet with the lady sitting it barely reached the

line made by her nipples. With a mischievous grin Tasgeni lowered Symfrall into

the chilly waters, and left him to fend for himself. He swam well, and she made

sport with him, twisting her shoulders and poking at him with her nipples;

sometimes dunking him, and sometimes lifting him from the water. He took it in

good stride, and dove deep to elude her, but even his mighty lungs could not

carry him far beyond her reach, and she gleefully caught him each time and

returned him close to her ample bosom. Nor was Symfrall completely the victim,

for a lady's charms, no matter how magnified, remain a thing of desire for any

man. And no one was more delighted than Tasgeni when she spotted the proof of

her lover's ardor, as his lifted himself on the generous swell of his Princess'

breast. Unwilling to prolong the sweet agony any further, Tasgeni picked up

Symfrall and carefully deposited him upon the grassy meadow.

"Bide a moment, dear heart," she said. "Whilst I finish with my dunking." And

Symfrall watched in amazement as the Princess leaned forward and submerged

herself beneath the lake, only for a moment, as the position was awkward.

Sputtering and laughing she sprang back up, flinging her long hair out of the

waters, casting a veritable cloudburst over the forest behind her. Then, like a

mountain marching on the horizon, Tasgeni rose up out of the lake to her great

height, and the level of the lake now reached scarcely to her knees. Water

crashed down from her nude body, but she paid it no heed as she twisted her

hair, coaxing yet more thunderous rain from its silken strands. The sun

glistened upon her as she smiled down at Symfrall, who was now completely

enthralled by his towering mistress. That fascination was still measured in

caution, though, and when she waded towards him, churning the lake into froth

with her motions, he backed up what seemed to him a considerable distance. It

wasn't even a full stride on Tasgeni's scale, and stepping out of the waters she

slowly kneeled forward, bracketing Symfrall between her folded legs, setting her

womanhood almost directly over him. That in itself was a sight that took some

getting used to. Symfrall's gaze wandered from the prodigious thighs of the

Princess, to her cunt, up to the vast swell of her breasts, back to her cunt, up

to her smiling face, and finally back to her cunt.

"My love," he said. "Meaning no disrespect, but thy charms scare me," he

finished, pointing at the conjunction of her thighs.

Tasgeni flashed her teeth at her diminutive lover. "Well it should sir knight,

for she shall have to embrace thee most intimately if I am to overthrow the

spell and resume more delicate proportions."

Symfrall stared for a moment at the auburn framed flower of his Princess, then

slapped his hands together, as if in preparation for some heroic effort, and

stated, "So be it. But if ye could accommodate me in some less inaccessible

position, I would see this work to fruition."

"Nay," smiled the Princess. "Though ye are small, and I am enamored of thee, it

would be unwise for me to invest myself around thee yet. My passions must be

fanned still hotter until my flows are sufficiently generous to let me take thee


"I see," said Symfrall, who clearly did not, and who was beginning to realize

that he was in for something rather more strenuous than a quick investigation of

his giant lady's nethers. "Ummmm, sooooo?"

Tasgeni moved around Symfrall, an action not unlike a mountain doing a pirouette

around a mouse, but which positioned the knight between his lady and the lake.

Laying prone upon the warm earth, the Princess brought her face down close to

her lover. "Let us commence with another kiss," she suggested huskily.


Making love is rather like dancing. If even one of the participants is lacking

in skills, injuries can occur, more often to the sensibilities than to the body.

Both Tasgeni and Symfrall had ardor to spare, and threw themselves into their

passions with a frenzy. However, neither had much experience, a matter somewhat

exacerbated by their difference in size. Symfrall found himself frustrated by

being unable to apply caresses using anything other than his full strength,

while Tasgeni struggled constantly to keep her unimaginable size and strength in

check, lest Symfrall be broken by her in a careless moment. Thus is was that

Tasgeni pinned and threatened to smother Symfrall more than once with an opened

mouthed kiss, while the relatively tiny man found himself assailing his love

with strength normally reserved for berserker attacks. After about an hour,

Tasgeni was horny enough to fuck a tree, and Symfrall felt like he'd run the


"We...we...we need...need...need a plan," gasped Symfrall.

"Thou hast my fullest attention," said Tasgeni, as she idly prodded Symfrall's

proud cock with an enormous finger tip.

"Bide a moment," panted Symfrall, slapping at her finger.

Tasgeni growled loudly, pushed the tiny man onto his back with a flick, and bent

her head over him, opening her mouth to give him a kiss that would melt his


"Nay! Nay!" shouted Symfrall, scuttling out from under Tasgeni like a crab. "I

mean, not yet," he amended upon seeing her eyes narrow. "Please, my lady. This

sport spends me, and satisfies thee not. I would rethink our notions, and try


"Something needs to be done," sighed the Princess. Symfrall watched as she sat

up and probed her cunt. "I am still not ready to take thee into myself."

Symfrall mentally girded his loins, and started walking towards the colossal `V'

made of Tasgeni's legs. Tasgeni watched him, then noted that she was half

self-consciously covering herself with her hand. Biting lightly upon her lower

lip she removed her hand. The sudden unveiling made Symfrall hesitate, and he

stopped just within the line of Tasgeni's knees. He felt so incredibly small and

vulnerable, the Princess loomed over him like a soft curving cliff. Her enormous

breasts rose and fell to the rhythm of her breath. Her blue eyes watched him

closely. Sensing his change of heart, Tasgeni reached out, gently placing her

fingers behind Symfrall's back, and with soft but insistent strength pressed him

forwards towards the awesome presence of her cunt. It was a colossus of form,

lush with auburn hairs framing the lofty rise of her lips, themselves distended

and out of place, revealing to Symfrall something of what lay within. Tasgeni

pushed him to within inches of her huge cunt, then withdrew her hand. Despite

her concern, Symfrall saw that there was moisture upon the lips of her vulva.

The scent of her from this close was heady and potent. He was daunted, and

looked up at Tasgeni.

"Open me," she commanded.

Symfrall whistled softly and squared his shoulders. Reaching out he stroked her

great labia, feeling their silkiness. Overhead Tasgeni sighed as she felt his

touch. Emboldened by her response Symfrall placed his hands somewhat within the

space between the lips, and plying his strength, parted them. It was heavy work,

and the flesh was slick so that he was afeared of losing his grip, but he

shifted the Princess's labia by a good inch, and peered inside. Her lips peeled

open from the outside, but stuck together further in. And, having never seen the

intimates of a woman, Symfrall was at a loss as to whether he was seeing

anything new at all. Tasgeni was able to feel something of the results of

Symfrall's labor, and sensed that he had not the stature to unveil her innermost


"Step back, my love," she warned Symfrall. Who jumped aside, and watched in

amazement as the giantess reached down and effortlessly peeled herself open with

her fingers. It was quite a revelation. Symfrall spotted the great puckering of

Tasgeni's vagina, and quailed at the sense of tightness that it conveyed.

However, the purpose of the smaller orifice above it eluded him. Nor was the

function of the swollen, hooded nub above both of them made clear at a glance.

Tasgeni was more than happy to enlighten him.

"This is the way drink passes from my body," she instructed him, pointing to her

urethra. "This methinks thou recognizes as the chamber thou must explore to

break the spell. It is deep and when wet will admit all of thee with ease." And

as if to comfort him she pressed a finger into herself, lolling it about.

Symfrall was not comforted. "While there is pleasure in being filled," she

continued. "This is the truer seat of passion." And she stroked her clitoris

with her fingertip. Symfrall was still daunted.

"Art there any other gates into thy ardor?" he asked, hopefully.

"Yes, dear heart," answered Tasgeni, a little teasingly. "Same as any bawdy

ballad might have instructed thee." She reached down and grasped Symfrall gently

with her fingers and laid back down, holding him up high above her stretched out

body. "Explore me all," she commanded. "Be comfortable with me. I'll not have

thee shrieking in terror when thou are thrust whole and living into myself." And

she set him down in the valley between her breasts.

Symfrall began to realize that Tasgeni not only dominated him, but she seemed to

be taking great pleasure in it. That put things more in the perspective of a

challenge. Something Symfrall thought he could handle. The skin of the Princess

was warm beneath his feet, and gave slightly. An unusual sensation. He glanced

at the hill-like breasts that bracketed him, then raced down the Princesses

throat, and sprang lightly into the air, up onto her chin. Moving carefully he

stepped across her closed lips onto her cheek, and looked down into her right

eye. Tasgeni was hard put to focus on her miniature lover, but she managed and

was not shy about studying Symfrall's manhood. Symfrall stared back at her,

mesmerized by the beauty of her eye. The blue was revealed to contain minute

flecks of green and brown. It glistened in a lively fashion, and winked at him

slowly. Bending to his knees he reached out slowly, and Tasgeni shut her lids so

he could touch them. Her lashes were black as coal, and thick. When the eye

snapped open again he started. Her pupil was dilated, and looked vast enough to

engulf him, but it quickly shrank from the light.

Stepping back, Symfrall stroked her nose, feeling it shift against his hand in

time to each great draught of air that passed through her. Crossing her lips

again, Symfrall sat down within the hollow above her chin, his legs dangling

upon either side of her jaw. Reaching out his lightly caressed her lips. Tasgeni

groaned and bit at her lower lip with her teeth.

"Thou'st tickles me," she whispered. Symfrall murmured an apology and leaned

forward upon her lips, spreading his arms wide. Tasgeni lightly kissed

Symfrall's chest, then playfully poked at him with her tongue. The knight pushed

himself up and batted at the fleshy thing, which darted back into its nook.

Symfrall struck Tasgeni's lips with mock blows, then clenching her jaw with his

thighs and pushing upon her upper lip with his arms, tried to gain access.

Tasgeni complied by opening her mouth, and nearly scared Symfrall to death. Had

it not been for the strength of his legs, he might have tumbled forward into

that warm, wet chasm. Tasgeni's breath roared over him, hot and sweet. And

Symfrall, disdaining his terror, peered inside. He would make hardly a morsel

for this giantess, and thrice thanked heaven for her gentle disposition. Her

throat was a distant cavern, her tongue a magical floor, that unpredictably

shifted and undulated. Tasgeni's teeth were white and straight, and Symfrall

daringly took hold of the two closest to him and felt their smooth flats, and

the terrible roughness of their edges. From that day on, whenever he watched

Tasgeni eat, he remembered this moment and marveled that within every woman were

things of such dreadful splendor. His brief musings were interrupted by the

sudden return of Tasgeni's formidable tongue. Sputtering and flailing his arms,

Symfrall wrestled with the thing, before getting the upper hand (or being


Giantess Stories: TASGENI

Dragons are a nasty lot. They are ill-tempered, ill-mannered, ill-willed, easily 06-Feb-1995 06-Feb-1995 Scott Grildrig Scott Grildrig TASGENI: WHO SAYS 'NO



Giantess Stories: TASGENI

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