Giantess Stories: Who Says

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Who Says `No' to the Earthquake?

by Scott Grildrig

A beautiful maiden becomes an unstoppable giantess

Update: 23/10/1997 to giantess

Author's Note:

This is not the Grildrig's usual fare (i.e. gratuitous giantess sex

and giantess violence). It is, in fact, something of a romantic

faerie tale kind of a thingy, featuring a giantess, along with a fair

amount of humor, action and, of course, sex. I have reason to believe

that most gigantaphiles will enjoy the story. I hope that folks who

do not consider themselves gigantaphiles will also read it, and perhaps

find that they too enjoy it...

Comments, criticisms and castigations on my character for too many

thee's, thou's, thy's and a couple of improperly used ye's, may be

forwarded to: [email protected] I like hearing from folks, and

using my anon address means nobody has to know anyone's name, place

or gender. (A few hosannas in the general direction of Finland are


This story is being delivered in three sections, to get it through

the 48K limit of the above-mentioned anonymous server.



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


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


So it was that she spotted the dragon's lair almost at the same moment

that the beast began its spiraling descent. 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 though 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.


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 death."

"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 dance."

"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 devilry?"

"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


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...


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 louder?"

"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


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 work."

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

awkward by his insistence of keeping one hand always on his aching


"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 champion.

"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 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

leu 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

none-the-less; 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 misadventures?"

"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


"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 princes'...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


"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


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 ernest

and nothing may dissuade it, but to see it to fruition. Giant's 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


"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 her."

"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 place."


Who Says `No' to the Earthquake? #2

by Scott Grildrig

The story of a giantess Princess continues

Update: 23/10/1997 to giantess

% % % % %

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


"`Tis is 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 experience.

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 me." 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


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'


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


"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 easily."

"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


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 marathon.

"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 bones.

"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 again."

"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 pealed 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 charms.

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

in amazement as the giantess reached down and effortlessly pealed 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


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


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 his 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, peere

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