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The Change

Tara awoke, practically naked, underneath a thick bush. She knew she hadn’t the energy to fight on and collapsed at that spot during the engagement. She had no idea how long she had slept. Tara was a muscular, handsome young woman. 33 years old with the strength and heart of a lion. 5 feet 5 inches tall, short brown hair and deep brown eyes that both charmed and raised fear in men and women.

She was confident and self-assured.

She was covered in mud and bl**d. She also noticed a large cut just above her right breast but it was no longer bleeding. Looked like hell. Damn, she was hungry. She felt around in the bushes and found her sword and knife and sighed a huge sigh of relief. She noticed a dead Raman just a few feet from her, rolled him over and took his bow and quiver of arrows.

He also had a small satchel attached to his waist.

Relieving him of it she pulled the drawstring open and pulled out a small piece of stale bread which she consumed like an a****l. But she knew this wouldn’t be enough. “Gawd, my whole body aches,” she moaned to herself. Even with all the training she had, nothing prepares you for a real fight. Swinging her broadsword and chopping up men twice her size is exhausting work.

Hopefully, they defeated the Raman and there will be peace in the valley. But she needed to find her unit. The artillery and cavalry were doing such a fine job in the early moments of the charge, the last thing she was expecting was hand to hand combat. But the enemy had struck their flank in an attempted ambush. The rest of the battle was a blur. Smoke, mud and the stench of death.

She shivered from that knowledge and from the cold.

She pulled a woolen tunic from the Raman and wrapped herself in it, still shivering. All she had left from the battle was her armored skirt, Slowly she got to her feet, legs feeling like stone. The road was to the north and they would have marched west. But, she was by herself and an easy target. Bushwhacking was an option but it’s tiring and slows you down.

She would have to take a chance on the highway.

Walking along the cobblestone road she noticed a white flash in the woods. In an instant, her hands were on the bow. Arrow drawn and cocked, her rippling arms glistening in the morning light as she pulled back the string. Again the flash, the arrow sailed true and struck the rabbit. Happily she ran to her quarry, picked it up and tied it to her waist.

“Sustenance!” She wanted to scream in delight it but that would have brought unwanted attention. Her mood lightened.
She put the bow back over her shoulder and continued. A small farmhouse was just in sight. She recognized it in an instant and felt a sense of unease. It was the dwelling of an enchantress. She was several centuries old and had a reputation for seducing young women. However, many were never to return.

She was on her guard. Hand firmly on the grip of her sword. She had passed the house when an old crone suddenly appeared in front of her.

“What is your business here, young maiden. “

Tara’s body tensed and she felt a moment of panic but her training steadied her.
“I am Tara of Aquilane. Commander of the 22nd Division…”

The crone nodded in recognition and cut her off.

“Your father was a brave and noble man, my dear. “
Tara, sensing she was being misled and caught in a trap, pulled her sword from it’s scabbard.
The crone screeched a bl**d curdling scream, reached up with her hand and launched a fist-sized fireball at Tara. She easily dodged it but found another one coming for her head. She raised her sword for protection but it was too late. It struck with the f***e of an eagle.

Moments later, she found herself completely nude, tied to a small bed. The crone was working over a stove in the small corner of the cottage. In a flash, she was beside Tara and while stirring something in a small pot. “We’ll have to take care of that awful scar. Won’t we sweetie?” Tara struggled against the ropes but to no avail. The crone took a huge spoonful of the mixture and spread it over Tara’s injured breast and the pain was excruciating.

Her body bucked in agony then the pain quickly subsided. She looked down and the huge scar faded to nothing. She looked at the crone, confused. “Just a little something to make you more acceptable for what’s to come,” the crone said with an evil grin.

Tara trembled at that pronouncement. The crone bent down to kiss her on her mouth but Tara was instantly repulsed. “You are far too ugly for me to make love to you!” She bellowed.

The crone stepped back in offence. But something Tara had heard, a myth, a rumour. The crone could change forms but it drew from her powers and weakened her. “Please, old woman, I know you can take the form of a truly beautiful woman. If you do this one thing, I will give you a night of passionate love you will never forget. Many women have offered themselves to me as suitors. I know the touch and feel of a woman.

I know how to please one. Do this one thing for me and I am yours. “
The crone was captivated by her words but also knew the danger. She had taken Tara to steal her life f***e from her to live a few more weeks. Changing form, she could lose much more than that. But, Tara was famous for her beauty. This was one she had to have.

An intense light filled the cabin.

The crone began to glow and within minutes, a beautiful young woman appeared. Tara’s heart instantly melted. She went from uncertainty and terror to love and lust. Thinking quickly she added, “How can I make love to you? Like only a woman can love another woman, with these fetters on my wrists and ankles?” The witch again was troubled, “What if Tara gets the upper hand?” But she was intrigued and released her. Tara got up and sat on her haunches while looking appraisingly at the feast before her.

She took the hand of the sorceress and pulled her near, kissing her lightly on the neck. The woman shivered. Tara turned her around, untied her frock and let it fall to the ground. The familiar wetness, soaked her womanhood. Tara laid back and pulled the young lady on top of her, their mouths meshing, tongues thrashing while the sorceress ground her pussy on Tara’s firm muscular leg.

Tara’s head was spinning but she knew she had to keep her wits about her.

But the scent of this woman, her hair, her skin. It was almost more than she could take. She spun herself around a got on top of the woman. She pinched each nipple hard as the witch screamed in delight. Then took each, in turn, in her mouth while she chewed and sucked as if devouring her prey. The witch threw her head back, still screaming, soaking in the pleasure. Tara kissed her belly, making her way down to her boiling volcano.

Once there, she darted her tongue in and out, teasing, avoiding the hardening, red clitoris staring at her. The witch grabbed her by the back of the head and f***ed her face into her. Tara lapped and slurped like a woman gone mad.

The women motioned for Tara to turn around so that her pussy was over the witch’s mouth. Tara did her bidding. Then her tongue was inside Tara and she found herself totally in the witch’s grasp.

The witch also slipped a moistened finger in her ass and that sent her over the edge. Wave after wave of intense orgasm hit her. She felt her consciousness almost leave but caught herself. She knew she was only minutes away from her goal. Her tonguing continued on the witch’s cinnamon-like pussy and she was arriving at that sweet, sweet nirvana. Grinding her sweet honeyhole against Tara’s lips, tongue and teeth, she growled then screamed in orgasm.

They both collapsed and the witch began to shudder, slowly changing back to the old crone.
But Tara leaned against the headboard of the bed. One arm behind her head, with her firm young breasts, lean hard body and muscular legs, her soft skin glowing. Her luscious body on full display.

“I’m not quite done with you. You’re not going to just leave all of this to waste, are you? Looking down at her shining body then looking at the witch with lascivious desire.

The witch was in awe and completely seduced. She shuddered again and retained her form.
“Now come to me and place your head on my shoulder. ” The witch did as she was ordered.
“Do you have a name?”

The witch knew what was happening. Tara was taking little bits of her strength away with each question.

“I, ah, can’t…”

Tara shushed her and kissed her lightly on her mouth, “How can I be your wife and lover for eternity if I can’t call you by your name?”

Again the witch swooned, “Tara as my wife?” she immediately knew it was a mistake but blurted it out, anyway, “Arathea.

” She felt instantly weaker.

“Arathea, such a pretty name. Arathea, I love you with the heat of a thousand suns. But, I need to know if you feel the same way. “

Arathea knew it was suicide. But she had to have this woman.


“Yes, Arathea?”


Tara, more demanding, “Yes?”

“I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” Tara getting impatient. “Tell me!!!”

The witch, with her breath starting to leave her.

“I saw you grow up. Become a young girl, then mature to be the most beautiful and revered warrior in the realm. “

Tara grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her to the ground. She kissed her deeply. “Tell me what I need to hear. “

Arathea, giving up, “Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I could never have you. Not this old, bent woman”

At that moment, the witch knew it was over.

Her body began to shiver and she hissed in agony. Her eyes trapped in Tara’s. For the first time Tara saw the love the crone had for her and felt true love but pity, as well.

While in Tara’s embrace, the witch was reduced to black ashes. A wind arrived, seemingly from nowhere, and swept the ashes away. Tara rolled onto her back, staring at her empty arms. Tears welled up in her eyes.

She got up, made her way to the door, got dressed and left. Several steps from the cottage she felt a warmth and a light from behind her. She turned to see the cottage in flames. The smoke created an image of the young girl and she looked pleadingly back at Tara.
For the first time since before the battle, Tara felt fear and ran into the night. Her life, changed for eternity.


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