Nordic Pleasure Pool [Viking to Valkyrie TG]

Commissioned Anonymously

Erik is a swarthy Viking warrior who decides to bathe in a mysterious hot spring in the forest, only to find himself changed forever as a result.

~

Erik was exhausted. Their party had been travelling through these thickly wooded mountains for weeks now. Weeks of caves and camps and watches; not even a small village to take refuge in. The tavern they’d stayed at at the range’s edge felt like a distant memory. The rest of his group always complained how slow he was, but it was easy for them to talk; they didn't have to wear a paladin’s heavy armour, or carry about a hulking shield and sword. Harald was a ranger, dressed in thick but light leathers, and Helga had only her robes and staff to worry about. 

Weeks of washing in cold rivers left his skin feeling grimey from the get-go, and after a week of walking, he felt disgusting. What he wouldn't give for a hot bath and maybe a comely maid to keep him company in it. Then again, they needed this job to pay for those sorts of pleasures. The only good thing about being this far out in the wilderness was that they weren’t spending what little gold they had left. 

The job had sounded worth it; ten gold pieces for every mysterium leaf they could gather. They were being paid a king's sum to collect leaves! It was only when they realised just how rare and far away mysterium plants were that the party realised it might have been easier to just pick a bounty. 

“I hate this.” Erik sighed, “At what point do we cut our losses?”

Helga huffed and put her hands on her hips. 

“We’ve been walking for weeks, you really want to turn around and go back without anything to show for it?” 

“I’m with Erik,” Harald sighed, “I don't like being this far out, this is the domain of old magic…”

Helga rolled her eyes.

“Old magic isn’t real. It’s just wild animals and fog that make people think that sort of stuff is real.”

“No, I can feel it.” Harald nodded sagely. “There are wisps and other magic about.”

Erik just snorted, but said nothing. He thought the same as Helga, that sort of talk was for sages and storytellers, but if it meant they could turn around and start heading toward civilization, he wasn't about to argue. 

“It’s almost sundown, let’s give it one more day.” Helga begged, “I really don't want to have spent weeks trekking around looking for mysterium only to have nothing to show.”

That’s what she’d said yesterday, and the day before. Helga always got her own way, despite being the smallest and the weakest. One day, Erik had to ask her how she did it. Suddenly, he spotted something floating above the trees: white wisps.

“See!” Harald cried, pointing, “I told you!”

“It’s smoke, you idiot.” Erik scoffed, “It means there might be a house here, a proper roof for the night. Come on.”

“Let me do the talking!” Helga said hurriedly, “Two strange men might struggle to gain sympathy, but a poor defenceless maiden, on the other hand…”

“Poor, yes, defenceless, no.” Erik chuckled. He had been on the receiving end of that staff she used; it hit just as hard as a sword sometimes. 

He was dreaming of a proper hearth, but as they got closer, the white wisps revealed themselves not to be smoke, but steam. The trees opened up into a secluded stone spring, pools of warm water steamed in the cold evening air, and Harald let out a sigh of defeat. 

“I was really hoping for some proper food, too.” He sighed.

“It’s better than nothing.” Erik shrugged, “At least we can bathe properly.”

“Oh no, we can’t!” Harald shook his head, “Springs like this, this is the domain of old spirits, who knows what sort of curse we’ll bring upon ourselves befouling the water with our bodies.”

“Maybe your body would foul it, but not mine,” Erik smirked.

Harald was older than him, and the muscles of youth had started to soften into a soft belly. Normally, a comment like that would rankle the older man, but today he was having none of it.

“Believe me, no good will come from bathing here,” he said seriously. 

“Maybe we should make camp elsewhere; sometimes springs like this have harmful properties, poisoned water from deep underground.”

“Or spirits!” Harald added.

“Or spirits.” Helga rolled her eyes. “Come on, there is a river nearby, I can hear it. Let’s go make camp and wash up there.”

“No.” Erik put his foot down. “You two go bathe in the frigid, half ice river if you want, I am having a proper wash, with warm water, right here, spirits be damned.”

Harald continued to argue, but Erik refused; he wasn't going to let his friends' superstitions stop him from having his first comfortable evening in weeks. Helga just sighed and shrugged before heading down to the river with Harald in tow, still talking about curses and strange old wives' tales. Erik made quick work of his armour, taking off the heavy plate and lying down by the stones of the warmest-looking pool. Maybe after he’d scrubbed and soaked himself, he could give the metal a polish. 

He stripped down to nothing and shivered in the brisk air. Erik was the peak of Nordic masculinity, tall, muscled with broad shoulders, a thick beard and a decent chest of hair. Even that was no guard against the cool evening wind, though. He dipped a toe, then stepped down onto a shelf of rock beneath the surface and sighed in pleasure as the water covered his skin. This must be what Valhanna felt like. 

He let himself sink right up to his ears, feeling the water flow into his beard and across his lips. He even blew bubbles like a child; it wasn't often he got a bath that stayed hot as long as he wished. Erik let his eyes slip closed for a moment and let out a breath. The water felt like it was seeping into his skin, and all the stress and grime from their travels was flowing out. 

After a few minutes, he set about scrubbing himself clean. He ran his rough hands over his legs and arms, feeling the sweat of the day finally wash away. He scrubbed his hands into his beard, delighting in the feeling of dirt falling away, only to feel something else coming away as well. When Erik pulled back his hands, he found clumps of his own beard sitting in his hands. 

“What?”

Then, a second later, they were gone, melting into the water itself. Erik blinked in shock; he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it himself. His hands snapped back to his face, feeling clean, smooth skin. He hadn’t been clean-shaven since he was old enough to grow a beard. There wasn't even a hint of stubble! Oh, Harald would never let him hear the end of this!

It wasn't just the hair from his face either. Erik examined his arm, running his fingers over the thick muscle and watching as the hair there disappeared. In a panic, his hands flew to his head, half expecting to find himself bald, but thankfully, the hair there seemed immune to whatever was going on. 

It had to be the water; something in it was poisonous or something. Erik stood quickly to climb out, but instead, he wobbled, his feet suddenly felt too small for his frame, and they slipped out from under him, sending him tumbling headfirst into the deepest part of the pool with an undignified yelp. Erik winced as his ass hit the hard stone at the bottom of the pool, and yet, it still didn’t hurt as much as he thought it should. It was almost like there was extra padding there. 

He scrambled back to the surface, breaking it with a gasp that sounded wrong. It sounded like the woman back at the tavern he’d met a few months back, gasping for air after they were done making love; it didn’t sound like him at all. The water weighed down his hair, and it clung to his skin, suddenly far longer than it was before. Erik could feel it pressing against his sides and down his back, even brushing over the curve of his suddenly plumped ass. 

He looked down at himself, only to see his body changing. No, that couldn’t be it; it had to be the water, making his body look distorted, because there was no way those thick thighs and comely legs were his. The hair was gone, they were pale and smooth with a hint of pink to them, thanks to the heat of the water. 

Erik stood, only to feel his body tilt slightly. His chest felt oddly heavy, and when he looked down, he couldn’t stop a cry of shock and horror escaping his softening lips. His well-toned muscles were going soft and round, the skin stretched, turning taut as two small mounds began to grow from his pectorals. 

Erik’s hands immediately went to grasp them, as if he could push them back down, but it was useless; if anything, his hands only made the new breasts grow faster. He felt nipples poking against his palms, and soft, supple skin pressing outwards as they continued to grow. He knew what breasts felt like; he’d touched plenty in his time, but never on himself! 

Not only that, but his hands felt wrong; his fingers were reshaping themselves before his very eyes, growing more delicate. The callouses from years of sword-wielding were disappearing, his hands were as soft and gentle as a noble lady’s. 

“What sort of strange old magic is this?” He cried, finally letting go of his new bosom and feeling it fall. There was weight to them, not the sort of bust you could hide even with binding bandages. 

His voice was lilting, still strong and commanding, but also undeniably feminine. Erik ran a hand over the curve of his throat; not only was the skin there smooth for the first time since his boyhood, but there was no bulge there. 

Looking down at his body, he groaned, taking in his widening hips, about the only thing left about him that was masculine was his manhood itself. Now that he was standing, he could feel the subtle weight of it, hanging between his legs and breathed a sigh of relief; at least the water hadn't taken his most important part! He waded to the edge of the pool, careful not to let his length touch the water again, just in case. He clambered out of the pool, his now long and blonde hair stuck to his skin, thick strands covering his breasts to give him a modicum of decency. Just as he was on all fours, ready to stand, it happened. 

A sudden pressure between his legs that made his back arch and a gasp escape his lungs. His balls quivered and then began to shrink. It was the opposite of how his chest had felt inflating. He could feel himself shrinking, the very thing that made him a man, slowly disappearing like it was being absorbed back into his own body. 

A mewling moan escaped his lips, feeling it disappear, leaving behind a hollow ache between his legs. Wetness that had nothing to do with the water gathered between his legs, and he whimpered. It couldn’t be what it felt like, please, anything but that. Awkwardly, he pushed off his hands and knees and sat up on the rocks against the edge of the pool with his legs spread. There was no denying it; a woman’s flower sat between his legs, surrounded by light, blonde hair. He shivered in the cold air. Night had fallen, and yet, the pool seemed to glow slightly, bathing him in an ethereal light that seemed to warm him from the inside out. He stared down at the pink between his legs in morbid fascination before tracing a finger down his new curves to touch the hair there. 

His whole body felt tingly from the change, and despite sitting on stone, still wet and in the open air, he didn't feel cold. Curiously, he pressed a finger to his folds; out of curiosity more than anything, he was unprepared for the burst of utter pleasure it caused. His legs shuddered, and Erik bit his lip before reaching down and repeating the gesture, more gently this time. 

“Oh…” he breathed. 

There was a little nub right at the front of his new folds that was practically aching. He pressed his finger to it and rubbed gently, up and down, and saw stars in response. His whole body seemed to blush pink, and Erik whimpered as his nipples hardened. It took more willpower than he would care to admit to move his hand away from the pleasure spot, but now his nipples demanded attention. 

He took one gently between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Bolts of pleasure shot through his system and back down to that ache between his legs, making it grow all the stronger. Erik bit his lip and moved his other hand back down to his folds, then touched both places at the same time. 

It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. No wonder women moaned so loudly; the pleasure was indescribably good, and yet, somehow not enough. He grabbed a great handful of his new breast and began to rub at his pussy furiously. Each stroke just felt better than the last. He couldn’t stop himself. His head fell backwards as things began to get stronger, until finally his breathy cry echoed into the night loud enough for birds to take flight.

The purest pleasure he’d ever felt washed over him, and he felt his whole body shudder. As the pleasure coursed through him a pressure formed on his back. It wasn't like when he finished as a man, where it just ended, as his finger kept playing, the pleasure kept going, and a second orgasm suddenly washed over him. The pressure in his back exploded, and any pain was washed away by pleasure. Erik fell forward against the stone, catching himself on his hands and knees as he gasped for breath. 

“What is this place?” He muttered, “That was…incredible.”

The pressure from his back was gone, but it had been replaced with something else. Erik stumbled to his feet and saw white out of the corner of his eyes. A pair of brilliant, feathered wings were now attached to his back. He flapped them slowly, in awe. He could fly? Perhaps being turned into a woman wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

“My daughter.”

The voice echoed from the pool itself, and Erik peered down at it in wonder. The water had gone unnaturally still, and he could see his reflection in the perfect mirror that was the surface. He could see his new self in full, curvaceous, yet slightly muscled, naked and brilliant. The white wings and golden hair and a sense of presence he couldn’t fully describe.

“I look like a valkyrie from Valhalla.” He whispered.

“Because you are.” Came the voice, soothing and motherly. “My daughter, you are reborn.” 

Erik swallowed, unsure what to do.

“I’m…but I am a man.” He said, finally, “I can’t be a valkyrie! I’m a warrior, a mercenary…I’m a man!”

“You are a man no longer.” Came the calm voice, “By bathing in my pool, you have washed off the filth of midguard. You are now one of my divine daughters, chosen to defend the innocent and ferry those who have died in battle to the great halls.”

Erik’s mouth opened and closed in shock as his hair magically dried and braided itself. His filthy armour and shield floated into the air, glowing with ethereal light and reshaped themselves for his new body. In a flash of light, they were on him, and Erik gasped. He’d always felt at home in his armour, but now there was something more, a kind of power he’d never felt before. 

“A new life deserves a new name.” Came the voice, “Astra.”

Erik, or rather Astra, sucked in a breath, feeling something magical wash over her. Wind ruffled her feathers, and she gave them an experimental flap. Her toes lifted off the ground, and she held out a hand for her sword, which flew straight into her hand. Direction and purpose burned in her chest, and she couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking of the little leaves that had brought her out here. They seemed so small now, so insignificant. 

Astra spread her wings and took to the sky. Down below, she could see her former party setting up camp. She wanted to go and say goodbye, but she could feel her new higher purpose calling her. Erik would be a mystery, but his party would mourn and move on. Then, one day, when their time came, hopefully on the field of battle, she would be the one to take them to the great beyond. 

White wings appeared amongst the stars, growing larger as they approached, and Astra smiled, her new sisters were coming to welcome her to their ranks. She smiled and headed for them and her new life.