Conjured - Chapter 5 - FINALE

Roch wanted to do this. After all, who wouldn’t? Any man—and probably most women, too—would kill for the opportunity to sleep with someone as beautiful as Elsidora. And that was before you factored in her kind, warm personality, or the fact that she knew magic.

But despite his eagerness, Roch found himself growing nervous as the steps from upstairs began to creak. He swallowed nervously as Elsidora’s knee-high boots came into view, the edge of her purple cloak flapping about them. Roch expected to see her thighs next, but was denied by a large purple mass that completely filled the stairwell: Elsidora’s witch hat, which was so large that its edges bent against either wall as she descended.

“I really overdid it with this thing,” she said from somewhere behind the hat as she entered the room. “It’s as big as a wagon wheel.” True enough, Roch couldn’t see any part of her form the knees up, save for her fingers grasping the brim.

“It’s unique! I think you pull it off.”

“You’d probably say I pulled off a patched-up old sackcloth.”

“Only because you probably would.”

Elsidora slowly raised the hat above her, revealing the rest of her outfit: tight, pale trousers that hugged her thick thighs and wide hips, and a corset that accentuated her stunning bust. The cloak closed up around her neck, orange and pink locks of hair tumbling down over it, bouncing a little as she eased the pointed at onto her head.

“Alright, I’m here. What’s this surprise?”

Roch tried to speak, but found his words gone, robbed from him by the witch’s beauty.

“Er… um. Well.” He was starting to second-guess himself. Wasn’t this a little… forward of him?

No, no. Remember the bookshelf. Remember why you’re here in the first place. Elsidora was desperate for… for company. He didn’t need to worry about being too forward with her; if anything, once he’d gotten her to open up, he’d need to worry about keeping up.

Roch cleared his throat.

“I! You uh. You had… plans, last night. Which I interrupted. And, I thought… you might want to… resume them.”

Elsidora’s hair surged brighter than the sconces on the walls. “No! Uh, I mean. I, I, that’s, uh…” Feeling suddenly exposed, she drew her cloak around her. “It, I mean, we, we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because! Because we, we’re not… um… I don’t want to… take, advantage of you…”

“You aren’t,” Roch smiled, feeling strangely more confident the more nervous the witch—the more nervous his witch—became. “I’m the one suggesting it, after all.”

“B-but, that’s… You’re…” Elsidora continued to stammer, so Roch crossed the distance between them and took her hand, fingernails painted to match the purple of her eyes. 

“You must have known I had something like this in mind when I asked you to change, didn’t you? I think you want this, too. But, if you don’t, you can say so.”

“I… I…” Roch’s witch started fidgeting anxiously with the edge of her cloak.

“Elsidora, I love you. I mean, I was literally made to love you. And the woman I love has needs, which I am more than happy to fulfill for her. Please. You made me to bring you joy. Let me.”

Elsidora’s face threatened to burn even brighter than her hair. “Um… O…okay.”

It would’ve been easy to kiss her, to guide her up to her bed, help her out of her clothes, ease her onto her back… but no. He wanted to give her exactly what she’d wanted last night, and what she’d wanted last night was very, very specific.

The warm smile on Roch’s face vanished, replaced with a mask of terror as he staggered backward.

“W-who are you? How did I get here?!”

“What? Roch, what are you—”

“How do you know my name?! Oh, gods, you’re the Witch of the Pale Moon, aren’t you?” Roch theatrically cowered away from her, holding an arm up defensively.

When Elsidora didn’t immediately pick up the cue, Roch dove to his knees in front of her, hands clasped like a praying sinner as he stared up at her. “Please, oh please, spare my life.” He had to be careful; playing this part too realistically might bring last night’s failures too much front of mind. “I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be your humble servant for the rest of my days, but I beg you, let me keep my life force.”

There was a long, pregnant silence as Roch stared up at his beloved, waiting with bated breath to see if she’d play along.

“On your feet, little man.” Her voice was low, smooth, sultry. The same way it’d been when he was first conjured.

Roch was no longer playing a role. The casual authority of the Witch’s voice penetrated all the way to his heart. He hurried to his feet as quickly as possible, genuinely fearful of the consequences of disobedience even though he knew Elsidora wouldn’t hurt a fly.

She’d said something about this, hadn’t she? He wasn’t capable of defying a direct order from her.

He had no time to consider that; he was too busy looking up in fear and awe as she glared down at him with a hungry smile, her hair a pulsing swirl of orange and pink.

“What mercy do you imagine you’ll find within me? How many have pled as you have before me, do you think? I’ve drained them all, down to the last drop.”

“P-please…” He actually found himself unable to look her in the eye, and cast his glance downward, blushing as that put her immense valley of cleavage directly into his line of vision. He stiffened when her finger reached under his chin and gently tilted his head back to look at her again.

“You’ve nothing to offer in exchange for my clemency, little Roch. ‘My humble servant?’ I’m afraid you already cannot hope to defy me. Kneel.”

Roch kneeled.

“Kiss my boot.”

Roch kissed.

“You see? You’re enslaved by my beauty and magic. Um… Roch?” The menace had suddenly drained from Elsidora’s voice.

“What is it?”

“Are you, um, okay with… this?”

He smiled up at her. “I am. It’s fun!”

She grinned down at him, a little giddy, before shaking her head and dropping back into character. “Good, then in that case, listen to this next command carefully. Reduce.”

A familiar tingling overcame Roch as he scrambled to his feet. Already, his eyes had dropped from level with the Witch’s nose and he found himself staring into her plump, painted lips. A moment later, and he was looking up at them.

A moment later, and they were descending upon him.

Elsidora held Roch tightly in her embrace as she smothered his lips in her own, forcing him to stand on the tips of his toes to maintain contact with her.  He inhaled sharply through his nose and breathed in the scent of her—herbal, but tempered by floral notes, all underpinned by the smell of her skin and hair. It was intoxicating, and he threw his arms around her neck, breathing her in more deeply as he felt her skin seemingly stretch and expand beneath his shrinking touch.

Soon, the kiss broke off, because he was no longer tall enough to reach her lips, even on his toes. He had only a moment to process this fact before he was hoisted into the air, a slowly growing tongue probing his mouth.

“Undress me. Prove your worth, and maybe I’ll let you keep a scrap of your life force.” Roch reached out and undid the clasp of her cloak, the fabric pooling at her feet. He moved to start undoing her corset, but hesitated, feeling bashful at the thought of his hands reaching so close to her magnificent breasts. 

It was a moment he couldn’t afford to lose; the strings of her corset were now out of his reach.

“Too bad, little man. You don’t need those to pleasure me anyway.”

Elsidora set him down, and he gasped as he realized just how small he’d become, the curve of her hips now exceeding the width of his shoulders, his eyes level with the waistline of her trousers. He immediately started unbuttoning them; he couldn’t remove them without seeing to her boots first, but the buttons would be out of reach by the time he had. He shrank even as he worked to unbutton them, her knees slowly rising up to the level of his chest.

“Um, your boots… can you?”

“Is that any way to ask a favor of a goddess?”

“Oh! Uh… please, o great witch, I beseech thee to grant your humble servant this small kindness, that he might better serve you.”

Elsidora giggled, a bit too giddily to suit the persona she’d assumed, then moved to sit. For an instant Roch thought she was going to crash to the ground. But then he realized that they were no longer in the workshop, but her bedroom, and her plush, rounded bottom had taken a seat at the foot of her bed. When had she transported them?

The top of her boots was rising to his shoulders, and he realized he had no time for such questions. He immediately set to work untying the laces on each, and began pulling at them with all his strength. Friction alone was nearly enough to overpower his shrinking muscles; it took every ounce of strength to remove them from her feet, and by the time he’d gotten the second one all the way off, it was taller than he was, and big enough around that he could’ve completely fit inside.

He had to leap to reach the waist of her pants, bracing his feet against the bed and throwing his full weight against them. With the Witch sitting down, the pants didn’t budge, but she quietly raised herself up and helped him remove the tight-fitting trousers, sending him tumbling back to the floor.

He landed with a soft thud, the pants still hanging off Elsidora’s ankles, and was momentarily stunned into stasis as he regarded her gorgeous bare legs, two pillars of soft, supple, womanly flesh, gradually rising higher and higher before him. Further above, grinning down at him with the look of a cat that cornered a mouse, was the Witch’s face, his entire body lost in the shadow of her massive hat.

“Looks like you failed, little Roch.”

“H-huh?”

Reaching down, he let out a soft, involuntary whine as a single gigantic hand encircled him, lifting him up and depositing him on her thigh; he shivered in pleasure at the feeling of the soft bed of flesh beneath him, before he realized what it was the Witch had meant:

The corset was a complex piece of lingerie, and her panties couldn’t be removed while it was still wrapped tightly around her chest. Even standing on her thigh, the laces were high overhead, and he likely wasn’t strong enough to remove it even if he could get it undone.

“How pathetic. One of the most worthless men I’ve ever abducted. Not even fit to serve as a toy… Um. Sorry, was that too harsh?”

“I’ll show you worthless!” Roch cried out, too short on time to stop and reassure his lover; he’d have to let his actions speak for him. The shrinking man dove between her thighs and began kissing and massaging them. Well, “massaging;” it was more like he was throwing his entire body against them.

“Oh…” Elsidora moaned softly. “Oh!” Louder, this time, as Roch pressed the flat of his hand firmly against the crotch of her panties, using much more force than it felt like he ought to, and traced a firm, heavy line up and down as he continued to use the rest of his body to service her inner thigh.

To him, it felt like he was being far too rough, but to her it probably felt only like soft teasing.

He continued his ministrations as he shrank, pushing harder and harder to make himself felt as he lost more and more size and muscle. His fingers slipped under the edge of her panties and he tugged, testing their elasticity. A glow emanated from under them as he did, and he realized that all of Elsidora’s hair reflected her emotions.

And the glow from between her legs was a hot, hot pink.

Another moment of rubbing, massaging, pressing, shrinking… and he was small enough to slip under her panties, bathed in the iridescent pink as the Witch moaned and moaned somewhere high above. Everything lurched suddenly as Roch tumbled forward, Elsidora having thrown herself onto her back, sending im splaying against her soaking, steaming womanhood.

Roch took a deep breath and climbed inside.

The Witch’s lips and underwear muffled the sounds of her shrieks. It was like nothing he’d ever heard before, as if the earth itself were crying out in pleasure.

He couldn’t help but smile at his handiwork as he rubbed and licked everywhere he could reach.

Body slick with womanly juices, Roch pulled himself forward, placing his hands around Elsidora’s flowerbud, which was to him the size of a large ball. She screamed as he gently worked it with his fingers, then began to nuzzle it with his face and drag his tongue across its surface. The heat around him intensified, sweat soaking him through as he nuzzled and licked and fingered. He could feel her heartbeat through it, quickening and quickening and quickening and quickening.

And then…

The entire world around him spasmed and jerked, throwing him from his position. He was so slick that he slid clean out, the Witch’s panties gone, leaving him to tumble onto the bedsheet. Her hairs were still pink, but the glow was softer, warmer. Exhausted, Roch rose to his feet, sweat and other fluids dripping off of him. Elsidora’s vagina loomed over him, twice as tall as he was at this point.

“Come here,” rumbled a breathless, contented voice of a goddess. Roch began climbing the towering thigh next to him, his exhaustion tempered by the pleasure he felt rubbing his skin against hers.

It was at this point that Roch finally realized he was naked, as was his witch. Elsidora must have magicked away their clothes at some point during all of that. Roch had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn’t even noticed.

Once he summited her thigh, he took a long, appreciative look at her massive body, stretching out far into the distance. Elsidora was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful he’d ever seen (though in fairness, she was also technically the only woman he’d ever seen), but this new perspective gave him an entirely new appreciation for her beauty. She was no longer beautiful like a woman, but beautiful like a landscape. 

The journey to her face was going to be the most pleasant hike a man could ask for.

He was small enough now—probably smaller than a thumb—that it took him quite some time to make the trip. It didn’t help that his efforts to pleasure Elsidora had completely drained him of his strength. Now and then he’d look far into the distance, to see her smiling at him, watching him with a patient curiosity. It took no small effort not to stop and admire her bare breasts, but one does not keep a goddess waiting.

“You,” Elsidora said, her voice booming although she was speaking softly. “Were absolutely incredible. I have been waiting to do that for… gods, I don’t even know how long.”

“Which part?” Roch asked, panting lightly. “The sex, or turning a man into your plaything?”

The witch blushed, a more intense shade of pink pulsing through the hair splayed out on her pillow. “Both, really. I have… a lot of ideas, for how it might be fun to… toy with someone, using my magic. But I’ll admit that this one has been at the top of my list for a long, long time.

“Now,” she said, suddenly sitting up. Roch immediately lost his footing, letting out a yelp as he went into free fall, softly landing against the palm Elsidora had stretched out to catch him. “I wouldn’t be a very good mistress to my familiar if I didn’t reward him for a job well done, would I?”

“The pleasure is in the service, mistress.”

“Ooh. I think I like being called that. But no. A loyal, attentive servant like you deserves to be commended. Spread your legs.”

Roch did as commanded as his mistress’ tongue descended upon him.

  *

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes! And you?”

“I hear you, loud and clear.”

“I still don’t see why I can’t be out there with you.”

“It’s less taxing for me to fly myself, and besides, I haven’t finished designing your mana battery; I don’t want to risk you straying too far from me and dissipating. Moreover, someone has to watch the house.”

Roch had convinced Elsidora that it was time to move on. There was no sense living on the edge of a village that didn’t appreciate her talents, moping about her status as an outcast. Sure, Roch could provide her the company and companionship that she’d been so desperately deprived of these past few centuries, but she deserved more. Surely there was a place out there where her skill could be appreciated, a place where magic wasn’t outlawed and persecuted. They’d find it and start a real life together. And in the meantime, they had each other for the journey.

Roch peered out the window of the house, dreamily admiring the valley that spread out before him. “You know, this might not be a bad place to settle down. Don’t think we’re gonna find somewhere with a better view.

Elsidora scoffed and rolled her eyes. She flicked the tiny cabin that was dangling from a chain around her neck. Everything had been enchanted to ignore all outside forces while it was shrunken, save for Roch, who was sent bouncing all around the sitting room.

At the same moment she’d flicked him, she’d cast a charm to make him immune to pain. Well, mostly immune.

“Hey!”

“If you ever want the opportunity to explore these lands again, my little familiar, I’d suggest you learn to mind your tongue.”

“This is the first complaint I’m hearing about my tongue—Ah!!”

She giggled as she gave the cabin another little flick.

“How about you spend a little less time cracking wise, and a little more time preparing dinner? We’re getting a late start today, and it won’t be long before we’ll have to settle down for the night.”

Picking himself off the floor, Roch laughed and headed for the kitchen, a smile on his face as he set about peeling potatoes. He paused, closing his eyes, and took a moment to breathe in the smells of their home, to feel the gentle rocking of the house as his mistress sailed through the sky.